Prophecy

--Authors note--
The same as last time applies, this is my story and mine alone. Any resemblence to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Please remember that plagurism is not only illegal but just wrong. I worked very hard on this story over the last few years and even though it is still rough around the edges it is mine. I hope that all of you that enjoy this will review so that I can know to continue to post. Also if you have any ideas, suggestions or quams with the story please let me know so that I can continue to make it better. Thank you all.
Also, check out my friends story The Book of Seven also posted here in the Originals section by A Whole New View.
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White


Chapter one:
Coffee, anyone?

3:30 am
Lubbock, Texas
January 1, 2017

My fingers flew across the keyboard, flying so fast that the computer buffer was having trouble keeping up with me. I just kept going and going. It was midnight and I felt great! With my old friend, inspiration, I could write for hours.
And that’s exactly what I did. When I looked at the clock next I almost choked. 3:30 am, which only gave me 4 hours before I had to be up for work. Now, most people would lie down and try to get as much sleep as possible, then get up even more exhausted and go to work anyway. Ha! No, not me. I just needed to visit my other old friend, Mr. Caffeine.
My writers block did nothing but let me sit staring at a half finished story about a couple in the 80’s without making progress for half an hour. I got up and walked into the living room, trying hard to be quiet and not disturb my roommate, conveniently passed out in front of the T.V., right between the kitchen and me.
My place wasn’t bad, but it was on what most people would call a bad part of town. Nothing bad ever really happened though, except for the corrupt owner and the massive bug problem, but that was no real big issue in my life. Right now, it was a two-bed room, one bathroom, living room, kitchen roof over my head. And that’s all I needed. Sometimes, nothing made me happier than to walk through the door to my apartment and sit on my couch with my roomy, and just watch something on the boob tube. I don’t know how I know that phrase.
My roommate wasn’t a bad guy, hard worker and always there when I needed him. Come to think of it… I don’t even know what he does for a living… not that it really bothers me; the rent is always on time. He must make quite a bit though, if I can’t make it, or have kinda forgotten it… heh, he always helps. I just wish he’d buy his own damn coffee some days because it always seems that when I need it most… it’s gone!
The door to the cabinet opened with a whine and my roommate turned over and grunted, but I didn’t think anything more of it. I lifted the can out and popped the lid off. I almost threw the can across the room. Empty; of course he had used the last of the coffee and hadn’t bought anymore. I set the can on the counter and reached back to a hidden panel that housed a secret pouch of coffee for emergencies like this. It popped off with a slight click and I pulled out the bag, hoping the rustling noise wasn’t enough to alert him that I was up to something. I pulled the pouch open… this time I did throw the can across the room.
My roommate woke with a start and I saw a flash as he pulled a long military issue knife out from under his pillow. “PUT IT DOWN!” he yelled at me. I set the bag down on the counter and his eyes glazed a bit. “That’s my doughnut.” He said, half consciously, and then fell back on the pillow, out like a light. The first thought that went through my head was: We have doughnuts? The second was: Hey, I wonder if Dunkin’ Doughnuts is open at this hour. Hey, I’m a growing girl; I need my daily supply of caffeine, nicotine and sugar. The perfect diet, I know. I swear if anyone invented a coffee flavored doughnut that had nicotine already in it… they would be richer than Bill Gates.
I finally gave up on the coffee and opened the front door, then just sat in the frame and watched the moon. It shone brighter than I had ever seen it before, like a giant sun lamp. My lungs filled with the night air and I stretched out a bit, before turning to head inside, but my heel brushed against something strange and I turned and looked down. A large brown box was sitting on my front porch. I leaned down and picked it up and shook it a bit, hearing a rumbling noise, but I had no idea what was inside.
The address on the top read: To Arianna. The name hit me hard for some reason, like something asleep trying to awaken, but nothing really happened. No aligning of the planets, no talking animals, no Hillary Clinton… ok I was still sane.
I thought that it had just been sent to the wrong house, but the address on the package was written on perfectly in old style print. The detail was amazing and very close to Old English print. I decided to take it to the post office tomorrow and try to fix… wait, there was no return address… and who the hell makes a delivery at 4 in the morning?!
Well, since there was no point in taking it to the post office, I decided to… well, take a peek. The blade of my knife cut through the tape as though it wasn’t even there. I felt a great deal of anticipation as I lifted the flaps off the contents, like a child opening a present from Santa. What, I can’t still believe? Well excuse me for trying to keep a little of my childhood!
I looked at the top of a dark black, plastic lid. That was just weird. It took me a minute, but I lifted the largest canister of coffee out that I had ever seen in my life. I almost squealed in glee, but that wouldn’t have been lady-like… so I just jumped up and down a bit. Just a bit.
I raced to the coffee pot and ripped open the drawer to find the can opener. It seemed like it took an hour and a half to find it, but find it I did and I clamped it on the can as fast as I could. Ok, so I’m addicted to coffee, what’s so wrong with that? It could be worse. I had to search for a minute to find the filters, but I threw one in and tossed in four scoops of the best smelling premium blend coffee I had ever found. Can it have brewed any slower if it had tried? Probably…
As it slowly brewed I picked up the box and turned to throw it into the trash, but something inside caught my eye. A small white Post-It was stuck to a folded piece of cloth. I picked it up and read it slowly.

Dear Aryia,
You asked me to return this to you when the time is right. It is past that time and I keep my promise to you. You know it better than I and you need it more. The time is near; I hope your training is coming along well.
Yours truly,
R.X.


The Signature looked very, very familiar to me, kinda like the signature of your father. I tossed the note to the side and wrapped my fingers around one of the strangest materials that I had ever felt before. I lifted it out and watched as the long black material fell to the floor while still in my arms. My fingers caressed the material slowly and I stared in amazement at the long black trench. The beauty of it made me stare while turning it over and over in my hands.
I had never seen it before, but somehow it felt very, very familiar to me. I searched it for the zipper or buttons, but there were no holes in it at all. It was a solid black piece of something or other.
I placed it on the table as a small ding signaled that the coffee was through and my roommate sat up so fast I thought his head would pop off, looked straight at me and said in a very exuberant voice: “Coffee, anyone?!”