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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #1997998
During the 15th year of The Great Rain a prophecy is about to be fulfilled at Star Keep...
The Hanging Rock
by Matthew Orobko



         On the 7th day, of the 6th month, of the 15th year of The Great Rain, High Priest Guymon Forde trudged through the thick mud and wet grass with the babe in his arms. The child’s screams as the rain came down in drenching sheets was frequently taken over by the crashing thunder and violent shaking of the trees from the wind. Forde tried to give what comfort he could to the babe, who had come into this world not even an hour ago, as he made his way through the Forest of Light towards his destination, The Hanging Rock.

         The child had been born sickly and he knew what it was that the ancient traditions of the Reiker family would have of him. Lord Reiker had come to him, as the clock struck the 2nd hour, drunk and disheveled to his solar where Forde had been planning the day’s preparations for the The Great Rain’s damages. “My sons are born…”, Lord Reiker had told him through red, tired eyes, “The midwife was correct in her prediction. Twins. The prophecy lies fulfilled.”

         High Priest Forde had stood up from his scrolls, arms outstretched in congratulations but before he had been able to say anything, Lord Reiker collapsed into tears and sorrow. Forde knelt down, offering what com fort he could, “My Lord, it sounds as if this should be a time of celebration… What has happened?”.

         “One was born sickly.”, Reiker was able to choke out.

         High Priest Forde said nothing. He knew instantly of his duties and what must be done. For generations the Reikers of Star Keep had kept with the old ways. To ensure prosperity and to continue the powerful hold the house held over the kingdom only the strong must live. All others were to be discarded. Thrown, into the Blood Sea from the cliffs of The Hanging Rock. Forde had yet to act on this ancient law for he knew that it was always the High Priests of House Reiker that were made to carry on the tradition. Forde quietly walked out of his solar and told his guard to send for the healer to tend to Lord Reiker. “Make sure the healer gives him something for the night. He will not sleep unassisted”, Forde had told his guard.

         It was when he stepped into Lord and Lady Reiker’s bedchambers that the full magnitude of the situation was on him. Lady Reiker laid lifeless amongst blood soaked sheets. The midwife was brushing fresh tears off her face. Forde stepped slowly to the bed, ignoring a baby’s monstrous cries. The midwife looked up at him, giving him full courtesies as she bowed, despite the situation, “High Priest.”. Forde gave a curt nod and leaned in, touching the brow of the dead Lady Reiker. So…, he thought, the prophecy was right. The two towers born during The Great Rain would bring a death but, ultimately, peace to the kingdom. He looked over to where the babes had been placed. Side by side on a bed of straw propped up on a wooden side table. One of the boys was silent, looking hearty with a rose glow about him sleeping soundly. Wisps of blonde hair stood atop his head as he slumbered. The other was screaming and wailing without end. His flesh was a pale, white colour and he was thin. Unhealthily thin. His right foot was a deformed mass that resembled more of an animal’s hoof than it did a child’s foot. Forde looked upon them both. Damn the prophecy!, he thought to himself as he snatched the lesser of the babe off the straw bed and stormed out of the bedchambers towards the castle courtyard, into The Great Rain.

         High Priest Forde stood at the northern edge of the Forest of Light as he looked up at the carved staircase reaching up towards The Hanging Rock. He began slowly ascending, the child still screaming for comfort in his arms. He would have to navigate the stairway slowly for it was harrowing even without the aid of the monstrous rains. One foot in front of the other he slowly creeped up the rock face, he was beginning to hear the waves of the Blood Sea crashing into the base of the rocky shore to the east. As he braved through the rain drops hammering his face, his thoughts went to that of unfair irony that almost brought a crooked smile to his slick face, How cruel, the Gods! For centuries the kingdom has been teased with the Prophecy of the Two Towers. One born of a womb and one born of dead wood. What with its promises of peace and prosperity amongst the lands and THIS is how it is given to us??!! Two twin boys, yes, but the death of the Lady Reiker and one born sickly and deformed? The Gods must be looking down upon us, laughing. Laughing at our misery.

         A massive crack of thunder gave way to a tremendous flash of lighting in the night sky so startling, High Priest Forde had almost lost his balance on the stairway. Yet still, he persevered. It was something he must do. He had been trained since he was only a child by his mentor High Priest Tomas Moore who told him of the Reiker laws and traditions and had prayed every night since then that he would not have to carry the worst of them out. Yet, here he was. Carrying out the duties of a Reiker High Priest. “DAMN THEIR LAWS! DAMN THEIR TRADITIONS!”, he cursed out loud and was answered by another boom of thunder.

         Finally, High Priest Forde had reached the top with the child still screaming. He used his woven sleeve to wipe the mixed rain and sweat from his brow and continued on down the winding path to The Hanging Rock. The twists and turns disoriented him under the rain and flashing sky but he finally broke through the rock and came to the overhang. The endless Blood Sea stretched out before him, seemingly going on forever as he approached the ledge of the rock, waves crashing with the beat of war drums. He passed the dead oak tree that had taken root at the ledge and stood massive, reaching up towards the black sky as if it were asking for mercy from the sights it had seen these many years.

         For all the stoic beauty The Hanging Rock and given it was a site of horrible, dreadful occurrences. Lionel Reiker, Lord Reiker’s uncle had hung himself from that very tree twenty years ago, Forde reflected. Dylla and Mason Kempt, children visiting from another kingdom, had accidentally fallen off the ledge of the rock while the were exploring, killing both. The Hanging Rock had also been the staging ground for the assassination of Mandel Reiker 650 years ago. Mandel’s high councillor and captain of his guard had conspired under the great oak to kill the Lord and take Star Keep for themselves.

         It was said that The Hanging Rock was an haunted place born of misery, dread and sorrow and now High Priest Guymon Forde was about to add to the long list of awful things that have taken place on this very plateau. He approached the edge of rock and lifted his arms, outstretched towards the sea. He look a look up into the black night sky and then at the child. He did not know if tears were streaming down his cheeks or if is was the pelting rain but he suddenly felt an overwhelming sadness permeate through his soul, penetrating his rain soaked robes. He pulled the babe back into his arms and cradled him. And what of your brother?, he thought. Is he to never know of you? Is Lord Reiker expected to raise him as a great warrior bred of honor and loyalty and never knowing the fate of his unfortunate twin soul?

         Just then, a bolt of lightning struck the dead great oak tree and split it down the center. The impact was enough to make Forde stumble, falling backwards and hitting the rocky earth hard. The pain shot through the back of head down towards his spine and lower half. It was so blinding that it took him a few seconds before he noticed the calm that had surrounded him. The rain stopped. The thundering waves had ceased. There was not a sound to be heard up on The Hanging Rock. Even the child had stopped crying. He braced himself as he stood up, clutching onto a rock that jutted out from the plateau for support. He rubbed the back of his head and felt wetness. Rain or blood? It did not matter. The smell of burned wood filled his nostrils as he turned around and saw the great oak. The blackened, charred edges of the two sections it now lay in were smoking. He looked up at the sky and saw the stars begin to peer out from the dark clouds as they parted and floated away. “The Great Rain has ended.” he said aloud to nobody. He had been waiting 15 years for that thought to enter him. He looked down at the sickly babe laying comfortably in his swaddle of blankets and for this first time since his birth, he was calm. His face was serene as he slept soundly. Forde bent down with a grunt and picked the child up. He rocked it gently back and forth.

         He looked at the charred oak tree and then back at the child. It was clear to him now. Everything had been muddled in his head this night but finally, like the clouds pulling back to reveal the stars, the fog of the prophecy had lifted. Two Towers. Born during The Great Rain. One born of a womb. The other… The other born of… Dead wood. Slowly, High Priest Forde shambled towards the dead oak and placed the sleeping child in the V shaped notch the lightning strike had caused. Still, not a sound from the child. He smiled to himself and bundled the babe tightly. He looked up at the clear night sky and then out towards the Blood Sea. Calmly, serenely the High Priest stepped out to the edge and lept off…

         The two would bring peace and prosperity to the kingdom, his final thoughts rolled through his head as he approached the shallow waters and jagged rocks below, but first there would be a death…


© Copyright 2014 Matthew Orobko (mattyorobko at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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