"Prophecy"!, the old man snarled, "fools believe it, a pity even the self appointed wise sages believe the future is certain so long it has been foreseen"
He laughed, a dry throaty laugh that seemed to vibrate from his very core. He paused for a while and rasped with an accompanied cough, spitting out a thick phlegm.
He was truly old, an ancient to be exact but his death as foreseen thousands of years ago was a sham, a useless rambling of fools, ramblings people thought to be words of prophecy.
He alone has the right to doubt the words of the prophet for he alone had lived and seen the desolate era.
