The shadow figure came to me in a dream.
“One day, you will be called,“ he told me, his voice resonating off the walls of my skull “You will know when that day comes.”
And then he was gone, and I awoke.
But that day never seemed to arrive. I waited, then resigned myself to the idea that the call would never come. I took a job to pay the bills, and it turned into a career. I met a girl, took her for my wife, and before long she gave birth to two beautiful children, a boy and a girl. Needing more room to raise my new family, I put down a payment on a small house in a good neighbourhood in the suburbs.
Months passed, then years. The children grew, and went off to their schools. My son loved soccer, although he wasn’t co-ordinated enough to play it well. My daughter developed a crush on something called a Jonas brother. There were three of them, and she loved one, dearly. I couldn’t tell which, they looked the same to me.
And so did my life go on, and I completely forgot the mysterious shadowed figure. It all seemed like just a dream.
Until one morning I woke up and looked out the window to find the sky had turned blood red.
I wandered downstairs, trying to remember where I had put my sword.