wiff-Fic: Reading the Future

I was the killer of Kings. 

There was a story to tell a child. My father took me to the crazy man at the edge of our village when I was but nine and one years. I was terrified. My knees rattled together fiercely and my heart beat so hard against my chest I thought it would jump out. I clutched at the hem of my shirt until my knuckles were a strange, dark, purple colour and every bit of blood was drained from my face.  He cast eyes at me--eyes that told of a thousands moons and a million battles. His hair was a mat of bush around his head as though someone has simply pulled a coca back around his head. Still he stared at me for a bit longer, picked up some small bones in one hand and dropped them with a clatter against the floor.  I jerked up though I had been staring at him unashamedly. 


Only then did his eyes left me to peer pensively at the bones on the floor.  


"What? What do you see?" my father asked, shuffling forward.


I daren't move.


"Ah," the old man gasped before hurrying to the far side of the cabin to dig furiously through a bag. When he returned, his eyes had changed. I did not understand what expression he stared at me with. 


I trembled.


He held up a gold coin. "Take this." his voice came to me. I had not seen his lips move for they were covered by his beard. "Are the killer of kings."


I gasped.