The Prophesy (Anazar Supplement)

[edit] General

The Prophesy has been handed down orally for thousands of years. It is present in the oral traditions of nearly each of the scattered races, and remains virtually unchanged throughout. The unbelievable level of constancy throughout culture and time has led scholars to believe that the Prophesy must be rooted in truth.

[edit] Recitations of the Prophesy

Several common renditions of the Prophesy follow:

An Ancient Human Version:

The Wheel of the Fates turns in the sky;
The Earliest Mixture separates, and whirls;
From the darkness the Comrades appear.
Bathed in the luminescence of the Gods,
They are, do, are undone.

From the spinning cosmos, the world;
From the spinning hate comes new hope;
For the Gods of Rebirth die young,
With their Followers still yet unborn.
The shape of their Destiny wrought.

From the North come the Barbarians,
Draped with fire and steel, majestic.
From the South the Merchants, icy and cold.
The East wind blows fury, fiery breath;
Hope is from the West, Land of Beginnings.

Toward the Sun, stand the Masses, joyous beginning.
Toward the North they hold wary arms.
Broad buttresses, apathy, they show the South.
From behind comes the West, now strolling, now darting,
And now it's upon them; the time; the end.

Too late they turn, facing Angels;
Too late do their frigid tears bathe the unkept world.
The Stars above weep, the Sun weeps, the Earth weeps, the People weep.
While the tears flow, the Zephyr breeze comes, brings Spring.
The Tears heal the Tears of the World, and all is remade.

The Wheel of the Fates turns in the sky.

Traditional Elven Recitation:

The Wheel of the Fates turns in the sky;
The Deepening Darkness separates, and whirls;
From the darkness the Scions appear.
Cloaked in the lightning of Angels,
They are, do, are undone.

From the spinning cosmos, the world;
From the spinning fear comes new hope;
For the Angels of Creation die young,
With their Prophets still yet unborn.
The shape of the Destiny wrought.

From the North come the Foreigners,
Draped with fire and steel, incandescent.
From the South the Zealots, icy and cold.
The East wind blows zephyrs, spring's breath;
Hope is from the West, Land of Renewal.

Toward the Sun, stand the Angels, greeting Spring.
Toward the North they hold sharpened blades.
Broad buttresses, shields, they show the South.
From behind comes the West, now strolling, now darting,
And now it's upon them; the time; the end.

Too late they turn, facing Demons;
Too late do their frigid tears bathe the filth of the world.
The Stars above weep, the Sun weeps, the Earth weeps, the People weep.
While the tears flow, the Zephyr breeze does, brings Spring.
The Tears heal the Tears of the World, and all is remade.

The Wheel of the Fates turns in the sky.

[edit] The Adaptation of the Prophesy

The Prophesy often mutates in minor but significant ways, and the alteration of even single words (such as barbarian to foreigner) can drastically change its message. Some scholars believe that the Prophesy does not tell of a single world-altering event, but instead is a motif that runs cyclically throughout the entirety of existence. If that is indeed the case, then each minor alteration of the prophesy tells anew of the bravery, loyalty, compassion, and sacrifice of many true heroes. This repeated fulfillment of the Prophesy by subtle changes to reflect specific circumstances is referred to by experts as the Adaptation (or the Adaptation of the Prophesy).

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