Rose Nia Galma's Prophecy

      “Yes, I promise to tell her. Bye Mrs. Creed, hope you feel better.”
            Lucwick shut the door, finally outside and away from that talkative old bat. To make matters worse it was storming. Any sense of cheery, helpful pretense vanished as he glared up at the night sky. Rain poured down, lightening flashed and thunder cracked against the black sky as if it mocked him, smiling at his loathing. The only thing keeping Lucwick dry a little bit of overhang. If he moved so much as an inch he would be instantly drenched.
     Lucwick thoroughly disliked riding in the rain. He hated the feeling of every inch of him being soaked through, the wind buffeting the rain and whipping his hair around him so it got in his eyes and face and the crack of thunder and lightning flashing every few seconds.
     Sighing, he put the hood of his cloak up and took a step out into the rain. Running towards Mrs. Creed’s stable barn, he threw it open, lightning illuminated the inside. It was old and musty smelling but neat nonetheless. The tools hung in organized rows and the floor was swept clean of hay.
      His mare, Destiny gave a low whinny and he walked towards her, hating the feeling and the sound of the squelching water in his boots.
      “Looks like you’re going to have to get wet too,” he murmured to her. Leading her to the opening of the door, he gave one last defiant glare at the storming night and once again stepped into the rain, leaping on to Destiny’s back. He kicked her into a gallop, wanting to get home as soon as possible.
      Lucwick was training to become a healer under the tutelage of the village healer. Nia Galma, but most just called her Grandmeer. Grandmeer and Mrs. Creed lived far out from the village on opposite sides. Lucwick dearly hoped that Grandmeer would have tea and soup waiting for him when he got back. She had an uncanny ability to accurately predict when someone was coming.
     Finally, after hours of being pounded by rain, Lucwick could make out the lights of their house. So she waited up for me, he thought, happily imagining the warm hearty taste of the soup and hot tea.
     Lucwick jumped off of Destiny and led her into their barn, which was far less tidy than Mrs. Creed’s, and put Destiny in her stall, throwing the saddle and bags off to the side before he gave her a thorough rubdown and put a blanket over her. Satisfied with that, he cheerfully ran into the house, shaking the water out of his hair.
            “Mrs. Creed sends her gratitude for the ointment and she’ll be sure to pay you next week with some of her chickens,” Lucwick said absentmindedly, busy watching the water pour out as he wrung his cloak and hung it up on the wooden peg next to the door.
            Too weary to notice she hadn’t answered, he looked towards the table where an empty plate and cup stood. Puzzled he looked at the fireplace where a kettle and cauldron hung, both boiling. That wasn’t like Grandmeer, she never let anything burn.
            Lucwick turned and saw Grandmeer sitting in her rocking chair she’d gotten for healing Mr. Floeeza’s son of the Hell Fever.
            “Grandmeer,” Lucwick asked in alarm rushing to her side.
            “Grandmeer what’s wrong?” She was sitting upright, arms resting on the sides, but her face was blank, eyes staring straight ahead at nothing, not moving.
            Lucwick put his hand on her forehead, she felt cold. He took out his mirror from his pocket, did his best to dry it using her shawl and held it up to her mouth, sighing gratefully when it gently fogged up.
            “Grandmeer, it’s me, Lucwick, are you alright?” he asked again, getting no response.
            He bit his lip. There was only one thing he could think of to do, but he’d never done it before. Lucwick had only been apprenticing for a couple of months, he knew the idea behind it but had never done it before, he’d had only watched as Grandmeer had done it. He knew he wasn’t prepared at all for what he was about to do but he had no other choice.
            Taking a deep breath he placed both of his hands on either side of her wrinkled cheeks. Closing his eyes, he lowered his face. He concentrated on her, imagining he could see right through her to that shining aura that existed in everyone, everyone that was alive that is.
            Opening his eyes he blew a stray piece of his hair out of his face in frustration. Nothing, lowering his head again he screwed up his eyes in concentration. Hearing the patter of rain on the roof and the lightning and thunder subside. He could feel her pulse and his pulse both beating at the same speed, feel her wrinkled, rouch skin beneath his. He needed to see her soul; it would tell him what was wrong. He’d seen her do it so many times before but it took years of training and great healing power to do it. He opened his eyes in frustration and for one glorious second he thought he saw something flicker around the edges and then Grandmeer Nia Galma gasped as though she’d just broken the surface from being underwater.
            “Grandmeer! Grandmeer can you hear me? It’s Lucwick, are you alright? Say something!” he pleaded.
            “On a day of utmost peace and happiness,” Lucwick blinked in surprise. Her voice usually a pleasant, almost gravelly sound, had turned low and hoarse as if she’d been speaking for hours.
            “A rose bush shall appear where His tree once stood. It shall bear two of the most beautiful flowers one has ever seen, yet two of the most deadliest.
            “That night, a tempest shall roar, bringing destruction with her, and two sisters shall be born. One shall save use her thorns for evil, one shall save us all.” She blinked as if awakening from a deep thought and was surprised to find Lucwick kneeling there staring at her paleface, mouth hanging open.
            “Oh, hello dear, did I drift off? I was making you soup and tea and- Oh dear!” she exclaimed and got up to attend to the boiling pots.
            “I’m afraid I’ve gone and burnt the soup. I’ll give you some bread and cheese and give this to the pigs tomorrow,” Grandmeer babbled, grabbing a plate and knife from a cupboard and replacing the bowl with them.
            “Lucwick dear are you alright?” she asked with concern as she noticed Lucwick hadn’t moved from his position near the chair.
            “Come, let’s get you out of those wet clothes you must be cold,” she said, gently pressing upward on his arm.
            Snapping his mouth shut, he got up and walked to the table and mechanically started to eat the bread and cheese she placed before him, watching her out of the corner of his eye as she moved about, telling him of the happenings since he’d left.
            “Oh, and the Proctor family down the road need a tonic for their baby, apparently catching sick again poor thing.”
            He nodded absently, thinking over what had just happened. She had prophesied he realized with a shock. That explained her predicting of people coming home. He’d never known she could prophecy, he wondered if she knew. Looking at her he guessed not. Lucwick decided to do the only thing he could do under the present situation, he forgot about it and continued to listen to her pleasant chatter.