The Chosen One knelt bare at the lake of hell, awaiting the oracle of fate. “Oh great Oracle” he yelled out, “I have found treasures, climbed mountains, fought beasts, and made my way to the freezing pits of hell with nothing but a hero’s soul. I have completed tasks of great strength, wisdom, and courage, and the final Oracle I must seek is you. I, Archerion, son of nobody, child of all, fated slayer of the dark lord, humbly wish to receive your blessing and the final part of the prophecy, so I may learn how I am to defeat thy enemies.” The ice covering the lake shattered and rose up into the air, swirling around and around until the shards resembled a nude woman who could only be accurately portrayed in the stained glass windows of a church. The beautiful woman floated down to the surface of the lake, and walked across to the kneeling hero. Her form was sharp and jagged, yet when she laid her palm on his head it felt as soft as a sheep’s wool. “Greetings young child.” She said, lI can see from the scars on your heart that you have endured much more than fights with beasts and betrayers. You have undergone pain that even you refuse to accept. I shall grant your request, though I think it is best if I tell you the full prophecy first.” She took her hand off the young hero’s head, and put her hands together as though she was praying. “Rise child, listen to my words and look into my eyes.” The hero did as he was told. “When a godly betrayer has risen to power, a small child shall be born In darkness hour. They shall be son to none, and child of all, and begin their quest when their villages falls. They shall seek out wisdom, courage, and might, and journey far to a land of no light. Kept heated by nothing but hero’s flame, they shall seek out fate and speak false name. Then fate shall correct a small mistake, and then true form, heroine shall take. Finally clad in a garb of light, the dark lord shall be slain by not man, but knight.” The hero stood with a confused and mildy annoyed expression. “Lady Fate, I thank you for letting me see the prophecy in it’s complete form, but I feel there may be some mistake.” “How so, young one?” “Well it speaks of a heroine, but I am not a heroine. I didn’t speak a false name, and I don’t think the rhymes helped with comprehension.” The Oracle chuckled a bit. “I’m sorry child, but the prophecy was written by me and my siblings at the dawn of time. I swear on my life that they are correct. I am sorry about the rhymes though. I thought they made it sound mystic