Son of light...

Finally, the seemingly bloodless lips moved: "Are you Hyaun-Banskeid-Roman-Ra-Roido-adh-Chor-Shari - warrior Hyauns, son of Roido from the Shari clan?"

Roman blinked. “Yes, I am.”

“My name is Solrhan, I am a disciple of the venerable oracle Soghul of Tulga and I bring you a message!” A hand, as transparent as the skin around his bright blue eyes, parted the fine, white material of the cloak and held out a letter to him. It bore the unmistakable, black seal of Tulga. “It is a message that is only meant for you, Banskeid Roman. No one else is allowed to read it or know anything about its content, except you. You know what I'm talking about? ”

Roman nodded and held out his hand. The folded paper touched his palm as light as a feather, but his hand began to tremble, heavy as if under a steel load. The thoughts were racing in his head. Why did he of all people get a message from the oracle? He was just a simple warrior, as insignificant a person as a small human being in the universe of great powers could possibly be. Only important men received the venerable Soghul's attention. Or at least that's how he heard it. So why him? And what might the contents hold in store for him? Good or bad? Roman's heart sank, and he felt sick again.

“If you allow me, I will withdraw now. I'll be leaving in a moment. Farewell, Banskeid Roman, ”said the messenger with a bow and walked past him.

Roman watched the billowing cloak, his discomfort clearly written on his pale face. For a while he remained undecided. Suddenly a shudder ran through his body and he regained control of his mind long after the messenger was gone. He hurried out quickly with the letter in hand. In the courtyard of the fortress he gasped for fresh air until he was completely recovered. He looked around. Nobody was in sight, but Roman wanted to make sure not to be disturbed while he was reading the letter, so he avoided the washhouse and climbed the west wall of the chorten, although it was uncomfortably cold. When he got to the top and had a quick look into the snow-covered distance, it occurred to him that the oracle might have been wrong. He quickly looked at the wrinkled letter in his hand. He turned it over and smoothed it out. But there was still his name in the same curved handwriting of the oracle.

With clenched teeth, he broke the seal and unfolded the paper. As he read the first few lines, and the power of prophecy drew him under its spell, he did not notice how the wind continued to grow and gray clouds were gathering over the hills. In an instant they had swallowed the light of the sun.

It was only when Roman had finished that he realized that he was shivering from the cold and that he felt goosebumps all over his body, not just because of the promising snow. His stomach heaved and his legs were gnawed by the exhaustion of the past few months. He would have gladly just sat down and rested, but that was now utterly impossible.

Again he stared at the letter in his clammy fingers. He couldn't and didn't want to believe what he had just read. It was a disaster.

It began to drizzle and the wind whistled uncomfortably in his face, but he read the letter a second time:

“Roman Shari,

I, Soghul of Tulga, have been appointed for this message by Al Nor,

the guardian of the future to

see for you what is only for your eyes!

So hear the gift that the future gives you:

you will see things that you will doubt.

At this moment, remember!

Traditions and old rules are broken to

save others.

The flower has to thrive and die in

order to put its seeds into the earth

so that it can bloom again.

Remember!

The ways of divine spirits are wondrous.

The black winter leads the black snow

like the dark brother the gloomy army

inexorably over the land of Hy.

The light is enveloped,

and only a fight can free it again

or extinguish it forever.

Prince against Prince,

the battle of Setna.

Those who think differently will emerge from the people of the Hy

and decide instead of fate

whether the light will shine further and be even greater than before,

or whether it will be gloomy forever.

Peace is its only purpose,

the Son of Light,

Raen.

Future

ally Soghul of Tulga. ”