The Prophecy

New York | The Crypt

A summoning from a Titan who bore banners and medals from Houses near and far. He had many maps, and they dated back as far as the beginning of my lifetime. A Giant had given me a location; the path was alluring. I wanted to shine a light on precisely what I’d be stepping into, for there was never just one path. With a kind invitation that honored my schedule, my hands were steady as I gathered my stationery. While I had been formally trained in live mapping, a meeting with a Titan would require a demonstration of mapping on a verbal chessboard. It was a skill I had privately trained.

Clouds covered the sky as I emerged from the underground, in the same square-toe Mary Jane block heels I could run in. Hair half up, in my best summer vest, and proper dummer trousers. Prada spectacles. Full armor. Stationery in hand. On a quiet street in midtown, I stepped into a crypt, where a Titan sat. As I was welcomed, I was granted the sight of the first sign planted on American soil. Below sat a book of origins. Some Houses had Clocks, others had Etched Marble, and others had Murals. I had been granted the respect of a formal table—an old-school tradition. As I waited, I peered out the window at the view below before looking up. I had spoken with a number of the Houses, but never before had I faced a Titan.

Long before I was beckoned through the Gates, a Titan spoke of a prophecy— the fate of a historic artist, who had brought Realism to the Realm. The blueprints belonged to the House at which he sat. There, the story was passed down through generations with the art of whispers. When it was spoken, an alarm was set. As the Fates would have it, when it rang, the Guard would change. Before his departure, a last line from the Village would be welcomed. All to bear the original House Codes, except for one. A Protégé of both the Old World and the New World would be selected and brought into a pure line of House Code Protégés. The seat was to be trained by Tutors and Mentors who wore both of his banners; she would learn many specialties and would be prepped for both paths. The first line under the New Guard would remain of Original House Codes, but the Protège would be comprised of three Houses before premiering. The Vision came to fruition in the hands of a young girl from the West, who would run many miles across departments with original blueprints and live maps in hand. Premiering in the land the House called home. When her name drifted in with the wind, he had decided it was time to meet the person who had carried his vision to life.

It was proper form to let the highest rank open,

“I’m a big fan of your work.”

Respects were to be given, and I voiced that of an honor. For a simple request of time from a Titan was not one to be disregarded. Introductions were conducted in the language of banners and medals. He had walked the path parallel to the line I had been trained by, and I had been seated where the paths crossed.

Let the game begin.

Spoken in the language of prophecies, a shared map on a verbal chessboard was to be built. My goal was not to win or lose, it was to reach a respectable stalemate. Pawns moved first, expendable pieces sacrificed as needed. Mapping with a Titan was a task that not only required training and wit, but also chess pieces to bring to the table. Pieces were earned over time with wins and losses. While his maps were expansive, mine were timely. Many had sought the mind behind the routes of my medals. Across the table sat straight shooters, one of Great Legend and one of Legacy, and pieces were placed accordingly. As the demonstration concluded, he tested where he could set me on the board, and new prophecies emerged—those of equal Chance.

"You have Great potential. However, there is a choice to be made. For there are many specialties, but only two paths. Regardless of what table you sit at, at some point, you will have to choose. It does not have to be right now. Take your time, for the choice is yours."

He spoke of a truth in many realms; the patron was King. The unspoken truth was that if the patrons were King, the product was Queen. I bore the mark of an Ace, and it was worn behind an ear. The light had been shown, and one day, I was to select who it was I would serve. The Troops or The Village? The King or the Queen?

"How tied are you to New York? Would you be willing to go to Paris?"

I had followed a Universal Law my dad had taught me on Sunday mornings, when the board remained the same and the pieces were given. Every win is earned. While I had certainly dreamed of Paris many times, and many had reached the heights of Icons with time in Paris, it was rather unprecedented for the option to be whispered so early.

“You are young, you have time.”

We shook hands before my departure and he told me to give him a call when my choice had been made—the favor of a Titan. I walked onto the city street to the sun, having broken through the clouds. And I thought of the first person I believed when they told me I could do it. As I made my way home, I reviewed the map in my head from every angle. It was time to step into the Pit. A Great had given a Location, a Titan had flashed a Light, and I was ready to see with my own eyes.

The Time? That would be of my choosing.

Written with Honey