A Bored Lich

Reflected in the eye's red and yellow iris was a face of visible disgust. 'What the hell is it?' he thought.

A line spread down the middle of the eye, which opened into rows and rows of dagger-like teeth. "What the hell is it?" it echoed, again and again, each time getting softer and slower as more voices seemed to join in.

The mouth twitched towards Ignus. "He is the Mumbling Prophet," Ignus's voice spilled from his mouth, followed by echoes of distant voices like before. The Mumbling Prophet could not only read Wilhelm's, but everyone's.

It spoke to them through their thoughts.

The mouth shifted towards Citrus. "He is Wilhelm."

"Hi," Wilhelm said. "A-are you close with the goddess?"

The mouth slowly closed, reforming the eye for a moment before it melted to the ground. "Greetings young hero," Wilhelm stiffened as he recognized the voice of the Goddess, which originated from an eyeless, mouthless face poking out of the mass. "The world is in danger, and only you can save us all from annihilation."

A coral-like limb reached out towards Wilhelm's face and he stepped back.

Jets of seafoam erupted out of the tubular projections. The Goddess's gentle voice was drowned out with dozens of fervent screeches. The rest of the coral-like limbs yanked sections of coral away. "Lies. Lies. Lies! Horrible, dangerous, euphoric lies!" Wilhelm grimaced, finding familiarity with each voice. They started with people he had known earliest, continuing past his family, his town, to the monastery, to Isaac, to his friends, all the way to Citrus and Ignus.

As Citrus's and Ignus's voices faded, the limbs froze. Then, there was quiet. "Hello, I am the Mumbling Prophet," a singular, deep voice greeted from within the coral mass. "My deepest apologies for the strange greeting. It takes a moment to find myself whenever I get visitors, even more time to find my visitors. You have a very irregular constellation, which is why it took longer to look through."

Wilhelm blinked. "Constellations? So'¦" his voice trailed off as he let out a sigh. 'I expected an old man with maybe a crystal ball or some kind of vague prophecy,' he thought. 'What the hell do I do with this?' No amount of training could protect him from one crack in his patience, which had been tested time and time again throughout the day. He knew he had messed up as soon as the thought passed through his head.

"An old man with a crystal ball," dozens of voices echoed the dreaded thought. With a loud snap, the Mumbling Prophet grew three times in size. Light flickered and grass wilted as clouds of ash bounced into the garden. Wilhelm fell to his knees, feeling the foul air dive into his lungs.

"I am a seer of the future as well as a record of the past," the Mumbling Prophet exclaimed. "I see nations that have crumbled away as well as the cities yet to be built on top of their ashes. I am cursed to know and understand most everything: all the good in the world, all the darkest evil, and all the mind-rending lunacy in between."

"I can't help my thoughts," Wilhelm wanted to say, but coughed instead. He called upon his life essence and the necklace around his neck tightened, suppressing his internal energy. Darkness ate away the edges of his fading sight. He collapsed.

The Mumbling Prophet continued: "I know of many wrinkled faces who dwell within their weathered shacks and fill their twisted minds with delusions of foresight. The future is not so simple, boy!"

The golden weave returned to its former state, and Wilhelm gulped down lungfuls of fresh air. "I'm sorry," he said. "I can filter my words but not my mind."

"An arrogance you developed while trapped within the War Monks' monastery no doubt," the Mumbling Prophet said. "You would do well to face the real world and know what it is to suffer, boy."

Suffer. It was like that word ignited a fire within Wilhelm. His shaking hands ripped up tufts of dead grass as they curled into fists. Sparks of charged aura crackled around his blue hair, fighting the enchantment around his neck. He slowly propped himself up to a knee.

"I need to know what it is to suffer?" dozens of voices cried out Wilhelm's thoughts for him. "Shut your mouth."

"There is your infamous ferocity," the Mumbling Prophet muttered, unflinching before the power crackling around Wilhelm. "You have been through many challenges already, and lost many, many people who mean a great deal to you, as every hero has'¦" his voice trailed off. "That pain is a taste of what is to come. I meant to warn you, not disregard your past. Now release your aura. It will do you no good to try to intimidate a seer of the future."

Wilhelm stood up, then took a breath, dispersing the aura. "A taste of things to come," he echoed. "And you also know of the past?"

"Yes." Wilhelm chewed on his lip, holding the question in his mind. "Speak."

Wilhelm sighed and rubbed at his neck. "When I awakened as the hero, it seemed as if the entire world came knocking at my door. I was offered so many gifts that I didn't know what to do with myself. Everyone wanted to take the legendary hero for themselves. No one cared about trampling a small town to do it. All of that happened because someone figured out my location, then shared it with the world. It all started with the prophecy you revealed to the world."

"I have no interest in causing you suffering," the Mumbling Prophet said. "However, I am but one within this world of many."

"But you can see all possibilities, can't you?"

"The only limits seers have are other seers," the Mumbling Prophet explained. "And how long they can stay sane at one time. I draw close to my limit."

Wilhelm sighed. "Figures," he muttered. Despite the nausea the sight caused him, it was as if his gaze was glued to the coral's many faces and limbs. The longer they talked, the more thoughts were dug out of his subconscious. 'I should ask about Doevm,' his mind processed one of his loose thoughts.

"I should ask about Doevm," the Mumbling Prophet read the thought, but not with dozens of faint voices like he had previously. Instead it was a single, familiar voice. Despite the vague familiarity it had, he couldn't match it to a face. He found his gaze wandering towards the stone throne.

His neck cracked as his focus was snapped back towards the Mumbling Prophet. He tried to look again to no avail, and a sinking sensation pulled at his gut. "Is this Doevm why I was summoned here?" he asked.

"That is unnecessary," the Mumbling Prophet said, his voice growing fainter, and nearer to the tubular projections. Wilhelm had to step closer. "Things have broken, things which cannot be mended. Your home was just the beginning. Fate is destined to be broken. I have seen it."

"I see everything," the Mumbling Prophet's voice melded into different pitches and echoes. "I see. I see. Come closer."

Wilhelm stepped forward before he knew it.

Coral limbs interlocked with each other to form a spiked railing, which Wilhelm grabbed onto. Stabbing pains embedded into his palms and blood dripped down, but the pain didn't seem to register in his mind. The coral mass stretched in all directions, creating a gaping hole, in the center of which opened a sparkling star-scape.

Wilhelm blinked and winced and struggled. He blinked again and his struggle stopped. Pain was there. His body was there. His mind was opened up like a book.

"The regime is dying, and a new head must take their place after they are slain."

"The regime is dying," Wilhelm repeated, the star-scape before him reflected in his wide eyes. "And a new head must take their place after they are slain."

"The gods have grown tired of their game," they both said in unison. "They have perverted its intended function. They have grown arrogant, and do not see the calamity drawing near."

Wilhelm blinked and tightened his grip on the railing, using the pain to keep his mind steady. The sinking sensation in his gut had spread throughout his entire body. "What do you mean?" he asked. "What game? Is something going to happen to the Goddess? Is that what you're trying to say, because I don't understand all this vague talk. Just point me in the right direction and-"

A ripple spread through the center of the star-scape, pushing the countless stars to the edges of the portal. Within the pitch blackness that followed, two, blue flames ignited. Wilhelm felt eyes upon him. "I know you have visions in the dark, fleeting as they are frustrating and joyous," the Mumbling Prophet blurted out.

"I didn't come here for them," Wilhelm countered.

"Yes, you have. I see the visions too," the Mumbling Prophet insisted as if he had entered a trance and couldn't hear anything else. "They are what makes the darkness so comforting."

"That's not what I'¦" Wilhelm's voice trailed off, and he went quiet. He knew exactly what he had wanted to ask of the Mumbling Prophet, and he knew full well that it wasn't about a vaguely familiar name.

"No one believes you have visions, not even your masters," the Mumbling Prophet continued to scour through Wilhelm's past. "No one believes how irregular you are because you are supposed to be the noble hero of legend.. It haunts you and gives joy to you and eats you and toys with you."