"There will come a soldier who carries a mighty sword. He will tear your city down. Oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord. Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, lord, He will tear your city down Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, lord."

A strange figure stood on a hill, singing down to one of the common homes in town. A clay-bricked mud home with straw for a roof. With a twinkle of a star, it disappeared.

"There will come a poet whose weapon is his word. He will slay you with his tongue. Oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord. Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, lord, He will slay you with His tongue. Oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord."

The figure sang, standing over a crib with a shining star. Then it disappeared into the night.

"There will come a ruler whose brow is laid in thorn. Smeared with oil like David's boy. Oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord. Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, lord. Smeared with oil like David's boy. Oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord."

It sang, looking over gleaming metal to a baby laying in a metal basket of some sorts.

7 years later

A young boy was sitting on the castle floor, playing with his many favorites and singing a strange song. "There will come a poet whose weapon is his word."

"Edgar! Stop singing that awful song at once!" the king demanded, spitting with rage.

"Yes father. I'm sorry father." The boy muttered, not sorry at all. "You know it's just been stuck in my head and I thought if I sang it it would finally go away!" He huffed. "Well it's not my fault anyways so there." He stuck out his tongue in a rude manner.

"I should have you thrown into the cells for that to teach you manners but I'll be nice." The king challengingly lifted his head, nodding and smirking when he got no response back, not even a smartass response.

"Sir! Sir! Urgent news sir!" The servant came running into the room. "Prophecy! Song! Poet!" He panted, gasping for air as he doubled over, hands on his knees.

"What is it? Speak properly Edith!" He demanded, standing up and walking over to the servant.

"There will come a soldier who carries a mighty sword. He will tear your city down. Oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord. Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, lord, He will tear your city down Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, lord. There will come a poet whose weapon is his word. He will slay you with his tongue. Oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord. Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, lord, He will slay you with His tongue. Oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord. There will come a ruler whose brow is laid in thorn. Smeared with oil like David's boy. Oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord. Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, lord. Smeared with oil like David's boy. Oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord. The three who know one of these verses will take on the role of their line. So that means Edgar is the...." That was all he said before he passed out and fell to the floor, knocked out cold.

"It can't be. Edgar, you can't be the poet in this prophecy! You've been singing the wrong verse! You will be the king!" He declared, feeling anger and shame because his son, the prince no less! Was to be a commoner. A poet! Not even a king in this great destiny! "Do you understand?!" He shouted.

"Yes father."

A/N: song is Soldier, Poet, King by the Oh Hellos