Some time ago, in a quiet village in the middle of autumn, an old widow called for an audience with two men of great stature and intellectuals of philosophy. Her letter was one that intrigued and mystified their minds. So of course, they came within an insignificant amount of time. As they were ushered into the tattered house, they were met by a small, spry, graying woman quick to smile in her knowledgeable ways, willful unclouded sharp eyes, and fierce of mind. All at once the men were enraptured.

The woman went by the name of Cassandra; her true name had been lost long ago. Her love had died early in life, and she never looked for another, though her beauty had been remembered as extravagant elegance. She had been asked once why she would not take another. Her response was to say, “There can be only one true love.”

The men seated themselves on modest wicker chairs with minimal padding that itself frayed and showed signs of significant use. She sat herself across from them.

“I am not one to normally invite strangers or have much of any social encounters. I live my humble life in the quiet peace that this small cottage brings. I welcome only those to whom I See for. I have not Seen for either of you, but because you are the King’s advisors, and thus have say in the future of our world, you are those who must hear me.’

“'Carried on the winds, reverberated through the land, visions in the water—speak of the future of all.'”

The men heard nothing but that of her voice. Sitting on the edge of their wicker chairs they waited. Is she the Prophetess we have heard whispers of, their minds sought desperately to answer this question.

“I have seen the birth of a baby boy not long from now. Yet you must understand. The land knows only its own time, and we are but mortals, our flames only a short spark, our heat the only remnant left behind for the next. The child will be born of purple blood and the light of our people. But he will be but half a man. The rest of him will lie far from here in the dark velvet of the sky. Only he will know Her and She will be the One. Without Her, all will be lost. Together, they will save the soul of the galaxy. When all hope is lost, She will be found. Only one thing will distinguish her from the rest, and only He will know it in the depths of his being. All this must be remembered, long after we are gone. All this must be kept secret for only your descendants to know until they find the time right to tell Him.”

They had soaked in all ominous words, breathless as she prophesized. This was a great amount of power, especially if given to the wrong person.

“Caution is vital,” she continued. “This secret may only be revealed to the most trustworthy of your children. Only one, you may choose. Be he the youngest or the oldest. Do we hold this in agreement?”

In unison, they whispered “Of course.”

“Good. Then this shall be the burden placed upon you and yours. Though the world falls to chaos, the King is coming!”

No words were spoken as the men rode back on the cobbled street.

For two hundred years, the secret was kept. Until a fateful day, a jealous young man allowed evil to overtake him.