The sun glowed brightly over the city of Bracitti on Rein. An older gentleman slowly navigated through the crowded market in the small marketplace. He carried with him a tightly woven basket in one hand and in the other a faded white ash staff. His hands wrapped tightly about both objects like a withered vine, he slowly made his way through the bustling street. His eyes were a glowing brown and if you looked deeply into them, you could see the spark of something else; something not of this world. His graying mustache and combed hair sends out a dignified message, while the many wrinkles on his face forced the message of respect. His brown cloak enveloped most of his old body, with the exception of his worn sandals. And though he looked to be well past his eighties, he was not at all hunched over. More over he was like a stick, and as he walked, he sort of shuffled, as if to slow himself down. His name was Petrock, or Petrock the soothsayer.  Not many people took notice to the aged man as he walked along, completely engrossed in his own thoughts. On this particular day Petrock was charged by a client and his wife to tell the future of their only child, Jack. They were humble people, and Petrock had almost refused to tell this Child’s future. Truth be told, He never liked children. He had always thought them to be a nuisance. Sometimes he would start a conversation with himself on the subject. He would try and persuade his other half that children were an abomination and they should be put a stop too. But in the end, he would realize that, not only would humans die off, but he himself had been a child too. This fact always made him grumble, and he would think about something else. However, the child, this child was different from most of the children. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he knew that the child was deeply intertwined with fate; at least that’s what he told the Novex’s. He also knew that its father was captain of the governor’s guard, and he didn’t feel like entering the governor’s dungeon for such a petty denial. Petrock finally consented to their pleads and took the child, telling them that he would need too keep the boy over-night, to find the boy’s true future. They left, feeling that their son was in capable hands. After they had left, Petrock began the journey from the main markets of Bracitti, to his house on the hills looking to the east. Petrock had always loved looking west, so this was a peeve for him but he rarely thought about the sun rise because he was rarely awake for the sunrise! However, he knew the mystical powers of the east and always remembered to cover his prized possessions with magic clothe from the west. When he reached his house, it was nearly nightfall. That night Petrock had brought from the town several things. Some cheese, crackers, a bottle of brandy, and of course the boy. After watching the sun set, the “ritual” began.
Petrock’s ritual consisted of him cooking himself a lovely dinner, and getting himself immensely drunk. To be honest, Petrock neither cared, nor wanted to find the child future. He had never even tried to tell a child’s future! And tonight was no different. After he had finished his meal, he began to drink. The more he drank, the more he began to talk to the boy. After the emptying the bottle, Petrock picked himself up and staggered into his bedroom. He soon returned with a rolled up parchment, and a talisman. After he plopped himself down, he opened the parchment on the table beside the boy. The paper was covered in astrological signs, and predictions. Petrock became serious then, or as serious as a drunken man can get. Putting on the amulet, he began to mutter gibberish over the parchment. Usually the parchment would start to glow, but Petrock had just mumbled at the magical paper, so it remained inert. Petrock grumbled dark curses at the paper, but continued without the papers consent. He picked up is empty brandy bottle and set it side down. He then looked at the boy. He had cried twice during the time that Petrock had taken charge of him. He’s eye were a bluish black, and his pale pink skin gave the feeling that something special was in store for the boy. Petrock gave the boy a drunken wink, and then he spun the bottle fiercely. The house went silent as the bottle began to spin. As slowed down, Petrock began to chant his prediction.
“Dragon, Dragon, Dragon!”
He soon lost his enthusiasm though, and soon began muttering curses at the bottle and its lengthy spin. But the bottle persisted to spin, causing Petrock’s undivided wrath; finally his hand slammed down on the bottle, stopping it at half spin on the Dragon symbol. And with that Petrock decided that the boy had the astrological sign of the dragon. Chuckling to himself, he began to rummage through his pockets for another flask. That’s when he noticed the bottle again! Petrock sat silent for a minute, then he tried to stop the bottle once more. He yelped in pain as the bottle burned his outstretched fingers. Petrock was a sensible man, and realized that there was something about this boy that the gods wanted. As the bottle spun faster sparks began to come off its exterior until it had become a full-blown flame, engulfing the bottle! Naturally Petrock was amazed, but to his credit he had been a magician for quite a while, and was quite used to the abnormal. As the fire grew, small flares began lifting from the main branch of the inferno. They steadily formed into a giant looking glass made entirely out blue fire! As he stared into the mirror, a figure appeared. She was one of the most beautiful sights Petrock had ever seen. Her long hair was a fiery red; her eyes were a cool cucumber green and her skin had the perfect tan. Her only turnoff was the ram horns growing from her head. Then she spoke. Her voice was like a clear southern rose.
“Hello Petrock; you’ve sure grown since the last time we met.”
Petrock smiled briefly, showing a fairly good set of teeth for a man of his age, then bowed low saying,
“Good evening your majesty Kalena. I presume you have motive for interrupting the child’s future?”
“Silence mortal!” she interrupted coldly. Petrock blinked, and then she continued, “I’m here to tell you, to show you his fate. This boy will change the world. It is up to you and whoever trains him on this issue. He’ll need your help, and anyone else you can find that can help. But enough of this, I’ll begin with his early life.”
Throughout the rest of night Petrock was shown what this boy could be. In the early morning hours Petrock woke to find that the mirror was gone, and of the flames only burn marks in the parchment were left. Petrock then noticed that the bottle, now charred, had stopped on a sign. Standing up, Petrock stared at the sign.
“The Durzur, a Magical Dragon that’s a friend, yet enemy to all humanity.”
Petrock blinked at this discovery, then with a chuckle, gathered up all the child’s possessions and returned him to the parents saying that the boy’s future seemed very bright.