The Prophecy of the Gems by Flavia Bujor Page B

winding path and plunged into the darkness. He walked on and on without stopping, oblivious to his surroundings, arriving at last in a moonlit clearing. Spying a lake, he went to its edge and sat contemplating his face in its clear water. This face of his — what did it represent if he did not have a name? Alone with his thoughts, he sat there for a long time, his sword lying by his side.
    Suddenly, his reflection was disturbed, and from the lake rose a beautiful creature like a mermaid, with a woman’s body and two tails of equal size covered in golden scales. Her features were delicate, her blue eyes glinted with gold, and her skin was almost too white, too flawless. Her black hair, tumbling in heavy, silken curls to her shoulders, did not seem wet from the waters of the lake from which she had just emerged. In her slender hands she held a golden casket encrusted with pearls.
    “Mortal!” she said fearlessly. “You have dared to approach the Lake of Torments! Only those who suffer may gaze at their reflection in its waters; all others drown themselves, having sought here a consolation they did not deserve. My sisters and I are the guardians and mistresses of the lake. We show ourselves rarely, and only to those worthy of us. I have come to speak to you, mortal, for I must give you something that belongs to you.”
    “You are mistaken. I possess only my body, my soul — nothing else belongs to me… I am nothing, and do not even have a name. I am called the Nameless One.”
    “I know your identity, your past, and even some of your future. There are many who know as much as Ido, without knowing you. But even if you were to ask me, I would not reveal to you the name you received at birth, for that is not my mission. The only thing I have the right to give you is this casket. It was entrusted to us, to my sisters and me, many years ago, and we promised to give it to a particular person, destined to appear at the lake in the fullness of time. That person is you, mortal. Guard carefully the contents of this casket. That was the wish of those who gave it into our hands.”
    The Nameless One seized the object. Without a sound, the mermaid with the jet-black locks sank back into the depths of the lake. Dumbfounded, but curious, the young man slowly opened the casket, holding his breath, his heart pounding wildly.
    In an instant he violently snapped it shut, his intense disappointment shaking him to the core.
    The casket was empty.
    The Thirteenth Councillor did not often fly into a rage. This time, however, he was in an indescribable fury; hewas shaking and his features were distorted with anger. When he shouted, his voice echoed through the rooms of the palace of the Council of Twelve.
    “What?” he roared. “You tell me that the entire city of Nathyrnn has escaped? Do you take me for an imbecile?”
    The image of a Knight of the Order, quaking with fright, appeared on a large, thin plaque of gold floating in the air.
    “Uh… Yes, everyone has escaped,” confessed the man in a voice that was barely audible.
    “And how do you explain that?” bellowed the Thirteenth Councillor. “Are you going to tell me, perhaps, that you just happened to be asleep when they escaped?”
    “Well, actually — yes,” stammered the Knight of the Order, confused and ashamed.
    “You dare to lie to me? Do you not know the fate that awaits you? Death! And dishonour! In the public square!”
    “But I assure you, I am not lying.”
    “Give me the border of the dukedom of Divulyon — at once!”
    The image faded instantly, replaced by the face of another Knight of the Order.
    “Commander-in-Chief of the Knights of the Order guarding the border of Divulyon, at your service!” he barked.
    “Commander,” snarled the Thirteenth Councillor, beside himself with rage, “did you arrest a large number of fugitives a few hours ago?”
    “The thing is…” replied the commander, suddenly humble and hesitant.
    “What happened?” cried the