They stumbled through the woods in silence until they felt they were far enough away to be safe from anyone looking for them. Their assumption that anyone was looking for them, however, was unfounded. The few townspeople and commune members who stayed past dinnertime had little to no desire to chase after a potential witch who didn't burn. At one point Arien fell in a patch of brambles, which caught his pants so badly it took Gerald and Rose almost ten minutes to pull him out. In the end his pants ended up being left behind. Rose felt this was fair, since she didn't have any pants either. Finally, exhausted, they huddled in a dense area of pine trees and fell asleep.

The next morning they continued to make their way toward the kingdom's main road through dense pine trees. They had to hunker down for an hour where they'd slept because of a half-hearted attempt by Oren, the Baker, and a few other townspeople to "catch the witch." When Arien's cult got wind that he'd run away and there was a quarter-hearted attempt to find him, which mostly involved a lot of yelling of his name from the edge of the forest, and then giving up when news of breakfast came. This cost them another hour.

Finally, after making good headway for a while they became hungry and thirsty and stopped at a small clearing in the woods by a stream. Arien built them a small fire, Rose settled down, to warm up since autumn was continuing to roll in ahead of schedule, and Gerald, who had fallen down in an attempt to seat himself on a log, rolled back and forth like a turtle on its back until he got enough momentum to flip himself over.

"Did either of you think to bring food?" Gerald asked.

"I wasn't exactly in a position to bring any," said Rose, giving Gerald a piercing look.

"Ahem...right, right...of course not," said Gerald awkwardly.

"I'm guessing you were too busy being a hero to think about practicalities?" he asked Arien, who blushed and nodded.

Grumbling about heroes never thinking about the details of rescue missions, Gerald reached into his cloak and his whole body seemed to disappear. Somehow the cloak kept the shape of a hunched over, seated man. There was a lot of mumbling and muffled crashing as if pots and pans were being flung around, and he re-emerged with a loaf of bread, plates, a spit, and a whole chicken, fully plucked.

"What?" He said, seeing their incredulous looks. "Never seen a magical cloak before?"

They hadn't.

Though they had actually witnessed several instances of magic being performed throughout their lives, they were under the impression that magic wasn't real, and so assumed what they had seen were just strange occurrences which could be explained away by science, or religion (which, let us point out, relies heavily on magic...they just call it "miracles"). Rose's immunity to fire was the first time either of them could definitively say they had no explanation for what happened.

Gerald put the chicken on the spit and split the bread, handing them each a piece. Once he was settled again he looked at Arien, frowning.

"So, where shall we be dropping you?" He asked.

"Dropping me?" Arien looked confused.

"Yes. I assume you have a home?"

"Well, yes, but I don't think Rose can stay there, that's why we were hiding from them."

"Oh, you're who those people were calling for? Sorry, I didn't realize that was your name, I thought they were talking about the Aryan elves*," Gerald said. "Rose wouldn't be staying there, she's coming with me."

At this point, Rose felt it was necessary to say something because their assumptions were getting wildly out of hand and she needed to reign them in.

"First of all," she said, "Let's make something clear. While I appreciate both of your help last night, I really don't know either of you, so I won't be going anywhere with anyone for the long term, thank you very much. I intend to part ways once we get to the main road."

"But I'm your friend!" Arien said just as Gerald said, "But I'm your guardian!"

It was very confusing.

"Who appointed you as my guardian?" She asked Gerald, ignoring Arien's ridiculous exclamation. She didn't have any friends.

"Your parents," Gerald said. "Well, you mother actually," he qualified. "Well, your birth mother actually, not your adoptive mother. Before she died. Your birth mother, not your adoptive mother. Though she's dead too. Sorry, you've got a complicated history with mothers."

"See!" Cried Arien triumphantly, "You do have a mother! Actually, you had two mothers. I was right, everyone has a mother at some point."

Rose, realizing exactly who Arien was, and that he might actually qualify as a friend, glowered silently at him from across the fire. Arien took the hint and found something else to look interested in.

"So you knew my mother? Er...Mothers?" Rose corrected herself.

"Yes. Well, only your birth mother," Gerald said. "I know you were adopted by a family here, but I don't know who they were. I worked for your birth mother, the last Queen."

"The last Queen?" Arien said, "But that would mean that you're hundreds of years old! You don't look any older than fifty."

"I'm thirty-four..." Gerald said. He was not amused.

"I think you'd better explain from the beginning," said Rose.

Gerald launched into an overly long, and extremely dry (which is quite an accomplishment seeing how it was really a fascinating story) explanation of everything which happened leading up to, and on, the day of Rose's birth, and what little he knew about her last almost seventeen years on earth. Apparently, her birthday was not in April, like she had been told, but in October.

"That's amazing!" Said Arien, completely enraptured.

"It's obviously a load of crap," replied Rose, rolling her eyes at Arien's gullibility. "Do you honestly expect me to believe that a Dark Lord, trapped in some celestial prison, was released ("Only partially," Gerald interjected) by a song, and impregnated my mother. Then wizards used magic to create a wormhole to send me to the future to avert the apocalypse after my mother had second thoughts? I may have a history of causing trouble, but I don't do it on purpose. I don't know why people keep thinking I'm some god's child!"

"Hold on," Gerald said. "Who said you were a god's child?"

"Oren, the commune leader. He told me there was something in The Book of D'Lorde which made him think I was the Child of D'Lorde. He tried to exorcize me to prove it, and when he couldn't he called me a witch and tried to kill me."

"Did you say, The Book of D'Lorde?" Gerald asked slowly.

"Yes, it's our faith. Well, their faith I guess. I was always a bit on the fence," said Rose.

"Figures it would reappear now," Gerald said to himself, rubbing his brow. "That book is always causing trouble."

Gerald sighed the sigh of someone who felt like they had to do everything themselves, when in reality they actually have to do fairly little in the scheme of things, and mumbled, "Fate, you owe me one."

He magically raised a burning log from the fire and without any warning tossed it at Rose. She automatically threw up her hands and turned away her face as Arien yelled. Then there was silence. Nothing hit her. She opened one eye, then the other. The burning log was hovering inches from her face. Arien seemed to be frozen mid-lunge, mouth open, eyes wide. Gerald was frozen too, casually about to bite a piece of chicken, looking completely unconcerned. There was no smell and no sound. Just stillness.

Then she noticed someone else sitting across from her. A mirror image of herself. She cocked her head and the young woman cocked hers in response. She had the same long, dark hair, same sallow skin, same rose-bud lips. Unlike Rose, this young woman had empty pits where her eyes should've been. Her twin smiled at her and she looked...beautiful.

"Hello, Rose." The girl spoke with Rose's voice, but there was something different about it. Her words held an intoxicating melody where Rose's voice was flat and dry.

"My name is Onyx," her twin said.

"Onyx?" Rose tried out the name. It stirred something within her. A word which seemed to hold the answer to everything and nothing all at the same time.

"Onyx," she repeated to herself nodding.

Rose looked at the other girl and felt an overwhelming desire to lose herself in the endless darkness of her eyes, giving up on this measly and disappointing existence called life. The urges she fought her whole life - to do bad things - to bite, maim, smash, and burn rushed at her a thousand fold. This was who she was, this was who she needed to be. Onyx was her. Her darkness. The part of herself who she walled off against the world. All this time she had been incomplete, but now all she had to do was reach out and grasp the now outstretched hand of this twin self and she would finally be whole.

She reached out and the universe silently screamed as the seal on The Dark Lord's prison chipped a little more. But just as their fingers brushed, the sound of a child's cries broke the silence, and Rose heard the familiar crackling of flames. The smell of smoke filled her nostrils and she clutched her chest as unexpected tears filled her eyes, and a sob arose unbidden to her lips. She snatched her hand away. Onyx was gone and time moved once more.

Arien and Gerald shivered as reality solidified, and it was all Rose could do to move the still burning log out of the way as Arien tackled her to the ground.

"Ugh, get off of me!" She said, pushing him away.

"But the log..." Arien said, confused. "Where did it go? And why are you crying?"

Gerald smirked and pulled another piece of chicken off the spit. The glance he gave her as he ate was a knowing one.

Rose quickly wiped her cheeks and sat back on her log.

"I'm not crying," she lied. "And I moved the log so you wouldn't get burned. Stop being so heroic and be reasonable for once will you?"

"I don't know what you mean," Arien said in a sulking tone.

"Obviously, if I didn't burn before in a huge bonfire, then a fiery log isn't exactly going to hurt me," she said.

"Oh..." said Arien. This made sense, so he brushed himself off and sat back down.

Rose turned to Gerald, "So what do we do now?"

"We see what The Prophecies say."

"What are The Prophecies?" Rose and Arien chorused.

"The Prophecies of Geraldo The Foreshadower," Gerald said - as if this should make sense to them.

If they both hadn't grown up in cults, or rather, in their specific cults, they would have known exactly what he was talking about. By this time so many copies of Geraldo's prophecies had been printed that it was almost impossible to not know them. They were generally considered ridiculous nonsense in public, but in private they were consulted daily.

In fact, they were actually used as scripture for several other cults in the area, but cults being well, cults, none of them encouraged outside socializing lest their converts be converted by someone else with better messaging.

Rose and Arien looked at him blankly.

He put down his chicken and launched into the tale of his great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-uncle twice removed.

"...his very last prophecy before he died was Prophecy 729:

Destruction seeds a royal womb.
D'Lorde of Chaos's flower blooms.
Fire shall everything consume.
When Onyx is born on the Harvest moon.

My Sighted nephew, his name is Gerald.
A future savior, he shall herald.
When the world is in greatest peril.
By mentoring those in poor apparel.

Time is the answer.

"Hey, I guess that means I can stay!" said Arien excitedly.

"What? Where are you getting that?" asked Gerald.

"Right at the end - 'Those in poor apparel!' 'Those' is plural, and it's clearly referring to Rose and I."

"Me," Gerald corrected his grammar.

"Not you," Arien drawled, "I mean, your clothes could do with a wash, but you're not poorly clothed. These, however," he plucked at his red wool robe, "count as poor apparel I think."

Gerald rubbed his temples looking tired and extremely put out.

"Fine," he said, "You can come too."

Arien looked positively thrilled. "Just like a teenage boy," Rose thought. They were always ready to go galavanting off on adventures. That was all well and good when it didn't end with you being destined to destroy the universe. The prophecy clearly described her, and she was beginning to think that her commune had been duped into worshiping evil-incarnate. It probably served them right after they tried to kill her. It looked like she was going to be stuck with both Gerald and Arien, and Rose was beginning to think she had terrible luck.**

"So what does "Time is the answer," mean?" She asked, grabbing some chicken before Gerald ate it all.

"Well, I assume it refers to the fact that we escaped by being moved through time to the future," Gerald said. He rummaged back in his coat and came out with a small black book which he started to flip through.

"You assume?" Rose asked. "If all of this already happened then how exactly are you supposed to help me keep from destroying the world now? Are there other prophecies which pertain to us?"

"How the heck should I know?" Gerald growled.

"How the...what? You're the one with the book, and you're SUPPOSED to be my mentor! How are you supposed to mentor me if you've no idea what to do?" She cried.

"It's not like I memorized the book. I also didn't exactly sign up for this job," he cried. "It's not like I wanted to be stuck living seven centuries in the future. I definitely have no desire to 'mentor' anybody, much less The Dark Lord's progeny. I wasn't even supposed to be named Gerald. But here I am, saddled with a fate I never asked for, in a time I don't understand, surrounded by people I don't like, and I'm out of Firewine. So excuse me if I'm not at the top of my game," Gerald yelled.

Rose crossed her arms, and Arien did his best to remain still to avoid being yelled at.

"Look," said Gerald, who felt slightly guilty about taking all of his frustration out on her, "young people think us adults have all of this stuff figured out, but I'll let you in on a little secret. We don't. It's all a lie. No one has anything figured out. We're all just making it up as we go along, and anyone who tells you differently is either lying or can see the future."

Rose peered intently at him and decided he wasn't lying about any of it. Either he believed what he was saying was the truth, or it really was (it's all true), which was disappointing on multiple levels. At least they had a book which purported to tell the future.

"Fine," growled Rose, "Then we may as well get a move on because we're not going to solve this sitting here."

She was right, so they finished lunch, packed up, and kept moving with intermittent arguing, and sullen silences. This was how they came upon the road.

It would probably be good to note that having grown up in cults surrounding a town which had maybe made approximately a hands-width of progress (if we're being generous) in seven hundred years leads to a radically sheltered life. Rose and Arien had seen vehicles around town before, but they'd never seen them move.*** Being raised in cultures which also didn't encourage curiosity, they assumed them to be some sort of odd town decoration scheme. They also assumed that the car zooming toward them on the road would stop. They were, of course, wrong.

Thankfully Gerald was there, though if he'd been lost in his own melancholy for two more seconds he would have been too late. He grabbed them at the last second by their dress ropes, and narrowly pulled them back to safety as a 1961 Red Ferrari blew past them.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Yelled Gerald.

"We were...walking...What...was that?" Rose coughed out, choking on the dust blown up in the wake of the car. Arien tripped as Gerald pulled them back and rolled backward into the brush. He was too engrossed in trying to extract himself as painlessly as possible from a briar bush to respond.

"It was a CAR! You do know what a car is right?" Gerald yelled.

"You mean those things around town that sit on the streets?" Arien said, rubbing the multiple scratches he had on his legs.

"They move?" Rose said.

"What... OF COURSE THEY MOVE! What else would they be for?" Gerald was about to lose his mind.

They didn't get a chance to answer because the Ferrari which had almost killed them reversed, sped backward, and screeched to a halt in front of them, sending another cloud of dust into their lungs.

"Hello," Fate said when the dust cleared. "Isn't this a nice coincidence?"

Gerald groaned - there were no coincidences when Fate was involved.

"Hello," said Rose.

"What kind of car is that?" Said Arien, uncovering a growing interest in things which had wheels and moved extremely fast.

"My face is up here," she said, seeing his eyes lustfully caressing the curves of her Ferrari.

"What?" Arien said as Gerald said, "WAIT A MINUTE!" He whirled on Arien.

"You can see her?!" Gerald asked, pointing to Fate.

"Uhhh, yeah..." said Arien, "Can't you?"

"Of course I can, but I have magic and Second Sight! Rose can obviously see her because she's The Dark Lord's get, but you? You are just some nobody who wasn't supposed to be here in the first place," Gerald exclaimed.

"The prophecy said I was," Arien argued.

"Oh, he's supposed to be here all right," said Fate. "Otherwise he wouldn't be. Clearly," she added. "He's not a nobody, he's definitely somebody."

"See?" said Arien, "I told you so." (He had)

Gerald had a strong urge to strangle him.

"Who are you?" Rose asked Fate, at the same time Gerald said, "Who is he?" Pointing to Arien.

"Goodness me, so many questions," said Fate. "I'm Fate, and I'm here to give you all a lift. I owed Gerald a favor and an elemental always pays her debts. I'm taking you to see the Wizard, I think you'll find he has some answers to your questions. Hop in."

__________________________
Next time on The Dark Heir...
Lorred D'Kay kills a salesman...
And starts a pyramid scheme...
And builds an army...
_________________________

*
The Aryan are a race of elves who live in the southern forests. They are known for their translucently pale skin, and their propensity to hate everyone. There was a period of time where they were bent on conquering the kingdom, approximately five hundred years before the reign of King Henry the Vain, but they quickly gave up when they realized killing everyone who wasn't like them meant they had to do ALL the jobs. They weren't keen on this since they were used to trading (if begrudgingly) with outsiders for much of their food, clothing, and home products. So much of their own knowledge about how to make things had been lost over two centuries of a service-heavy economy (also their enormous wealth from precious gems and metals which their government mined with criminal (slave) labor) that when it came time for their people to figure out who was going to do what type of hard labor, the elves revolted against the imperialistic government party and vowed to hence-forth live a life of peaceful existence. They still hated everyone, they just wouldn't kill them because of it.

**
Luck, like Fate, had a penchant for taking longer than intended vacations. Unfortunately, unlike Fate, he (for he preferred the pronouns he/him) had fallen asleep for so long he'd become fossilized and had truly become elemental - as in infused in the earth's elements.

***
Fun fact: Things which were of the Industrial Age really didn't work in the land around the castle. It's been postulated that the amount of magic which was used on the day of Rose's birth was so great that it seeped into the ground and caused anything mechanical to go haywire. Other theories have included a curse, a time warp, aliens, fairies, and a cult of nuns who go around removing necessary mechanical parts in a devious scheme of their own devising.