Now
“Grandpa? Could you tell me a bed time story?” Said Max, my six year old grandson. He would always ask his grandmother, my deiced wife Anne, this question.

Now that she is gone, I guess it falls to me to tell him a story.

“Once upon a time there lived this servant girl, who had an evil stepmother, and …”
“No grandpa. I don’t want to here Cinderella. That is for girls.” he said with distaste in his tone.
“Then what type of story would you like to hear?” I asked. I had the slightest idea about what type of story to tell him. Anne had the imagination, not me.

“Grandma always told me a story about fighting, war, and honor. Do you know any stories about that?” there was a gleam in his eye. Like he knew something I didn’t.

“Did your grandma ever tell you a story about the six warriors?” I asked. Surely, she didn’t tell him that story.

“Yep. But I never get to hear the end. I always fall asleep.” he sat up in the bed, “This time I wont. I ganna stay up till I hear it all!”

Wow! She did tell him. I bet he never would imagine that this story was lived by me, my wife, and are friends.

“Alright I’ll tell you the story. What names did your grandma use in it?” I might as well know so that I can keep him from guessing they are my friends. I looked up and saw the potted plant drooping, on the windowsill, dead.
You shouldn’t be dead. I must be getting rusty. Come on now, get up.
I slowly came back to life. The little yellow flower blooming with out, Max noticing any thing.

“There was Emily, Ryan, Ben, Jack, Anne, and Kaori. My favorite is Ryan, I mean who wouldn’t want to control fire?” he said.

I guess she thought he wouldn’t put it together.
“Well let see, where should I began. Long ago, a evil witch…”

Then: the prophecy.
“Six will be born
Same day, same time
Different but the same
They will be sworn
To finish the war
The elements will guide them
From inside them
One will hold them all
And lead them through it all
Three girls, three boys
Off to end the shadows”

“Shut it, you witch!” the man in the black hood yelled.

He tightened the noose tight around my neck. It is itchy, and uncomfortable. I guess they don’t want your last moments on this world to be a nice one. At least they could do is not stare at me so evilly, its vary rued. A man stepped out of the crowed of onlookers and unrolled a paper.

“Ahhhh, the mayor, so glad you can come. I thought you would never show.” I taunted. His face redden. I guess it is hard on him to kill his only daughter. “Come on, daddy, tell me what I did wrong so this nice man in the black hood could pull the lever.”

He looked down at the paper and began to read.
“Jane Rosco, you have been accused of Witch Craft, the dark arts, and here by sentenced to death by hanging.”

His voice choked at the last couple of words.
“Ha Ha, thanks for your sympathy father.”
The man in the hood readied his hand on the leaver.
“The time of the darkness has just begun,” I laughed, “And you will suffer, And you will Die. And I hope you can never find the warriors that can save you.”

He pulled the lever. I felt he floor drop from under my feet. I along with it.
The noose around my neck tightened , cutting off my air.
You will all die.
I laughed inside my head as I lost conscious.
Then, I died.