Title: Prophecy
Author/Seer: Derry
Disclaimer: Winchesters? I don't think I actually mentioned any Winchesters, except the city in England which scarcely counts. But if I did mention any people called Winchester, then I wouldn't claim to own them. Here endeth the disclaimer.
Spoilers: Probably spoilers for just about EVERYTHING, if you read between the lines. Maybe even some speculation about things yet to come - well, such is the nature of prophecy, isn't it?
Rating: It could probably score a K+ since there's not really anything to corrupt children. Confuse them, perhaps. Corrupt them, no.
Author's notes: Okay, I seriously don't know where this came from. I had a vague idea to write a ficlet for Supernatural but I was thinking more along the lines of a light and humorous prank-playing vignette. Then yesterday I found myself musing about how this show hasn't (so far) really delved into the idea of archaic prophecies as shows of the genre often do. And for some reason I then got the Sybilline verses from the first chapter of I, Claudius stuck in my head. And then for the past two days, these little rhyming phrases kept popping into my head (and distracting me at work) and so I've been jotting them down (in between trying to do my job -sigh-). And I confess that I'm minorly freaked because I don't think I've felt the need to write semi-poetical rhyming stuff since I was a teenager (and you can all stop sniggering now!). But this stuff just kept hijacking my brain! Yes, what follows really are the ravings of a madwoman. That aspect is not entirely fabricated. Oh, and BTW, before any scholarly types might feel the need to point it out, I don't for a moment believe that this in any way represents accurate Middle English. It's merely the quasi-poetic mutterings of my strange mind. I think I might have even thrown some limericks in there...
Being
the words of Mary Goodchild
excommunicated and burned at the stake
for heresy and witchcraft
before the Cathedral in Winchester
this
Second day of November in the Year of Our Lord 1483.
In the
countless days a-coming
All things
will end and begin
All is
observed and accounted
And the
World must pay for its sins
Mothers
will burn
Fathers
will weep
Flames
will consume where the Children sleep
None will
know aught
And all be
a-feared
Until the
eyes of one father are cleared
His
children will be spared the damnation
His
children will be spared not at all
He will
see the worst of the darkness
And know
what soon must befall
And
Innocence willingly suffers
Sacrificed
for sins none of theirs
Two souls
bound in pain and forged in the flame
The World
comes as close as it dares
To the
Firstborn, a burden of love in his arms
To the
Younger, a burden of pain in his heart
With their
father, they travel the darkest of roads
The
journey will tear them apart
Seeking
only the shadows and darkness
One will
continue the Fight
Reaching
out for hope and redemption
One will
fall in his search for the Light
A
Trickster's cunning
A
Warrior's heart
True
innocent devotion with a Sinner's smile
A
Scholar's learning
A
Prophet's eyes
The doubt
of the Stricken with the faith of a child
On roads
where the faithless are lost
Faith will
be kindled anew
What was
forgot will then be remembered
One and
One will be again Two
Innocence
drawn from deep water
The guilty
with blood in their eyes
Shape for
the shapeless
Creatures
of Earth
Devils
that fall from the Sky
The
Righteous will hunt for their blood
Evil will
give them its name
All of
their deeds unknown to the world
Which
unknowing, continues the same
Death
comes to the doorway and is turned away
Another
takes Death by the hand
Death
comes to the doorway and chooses to stay
In the
still beating heart of a man
And death
of the Father binds more than life
That death
holds both souls in its thrall
The soul
of the Younger is bound to the Path
The
Firstborn one step from the Fall
The danger
comes not from the Doubt
The peril
comes not from the Fear
True
menace comes from Children and Faith
And
Whispers no other souls hear
Called to
the Legion of Children
Summoned
by eyes of bright flame
None stand
alone
Darkness
calls One of Two
Beckoned
by blood and his name
Sacrifice
must not be made blindly
Such gifts
are for cowards and churls
In the
stead of the One, Two must stand firm
Therein
lies the Fate of the World
The
outcome for all remains clouded
None know
whether Justice will be
The face
of the World after battle is done
Is what
only the victors will see
But all
the Two are must be given
Nothing
held back from the Fight
What
endures through pain, through the Darkness
Must
endure for love, for the Light
The Fate
of the World to be lost or won
In battles
of Blood, Words and Dreams
Brother to
Brother, Father to Son
The
Unbound cannot know what this means