King of the Murgos

'Why is it that all of this seems to have happened before?'
'All of what?'
'Everything. There are Angaraks in Arendia trying to stir up trouble - just as there were when we were following Zedar. There are intrigues and assassinations in Tolnedra - the same as last time. We ran into a monster - a dragon this time instead of the Algroths - but it's still pretty close to the same sort of thing. It seems almost as if we were repeating everything that happened when we were tying to find the Orb. We've even been running into the same people - Delvor, that customs man, even Jeebers.'
'You know, that's a very interesting question Garion.' Belgarath pondered for a moment, absently taking a drink from his tankard. 'If you think about it in a certain way, though, it does sort of make sense.'
'I don't quite follow you.'
'We're on our way to another meeting between the Child of Light and the Child of Dark,' Belgarath explained. That meeting is going to be a repetition of an event that's been happening over and over again since the beginning of time. Since it's the same event, it stands to reason that the circumstances leading up to it should also be similar.' He thought about it a moment longer. 'Actually, he continued, 'they'd almost have to be, wouldn't they?'
'That's a little deep for me, I'm afraid.'
'There are two Prophecies - two sides of the same thing. Something happened an unimaginably long time ago to separate them.'
'Yes. I understand that.'
'When they got separated, things sort of stopped.'

Zith sulked in her bottle, still greatly offended.
'Really, dear, ' Sadi assured her, 'it's all right. Don't you trust me?'
There was a snippy little hiss from inside the bottle.
'That's a very naughty thing to say, Zith,' Sadi gently reproved her. 'I did everything I could to keep him from disturbing you.' He looked apologetically at Agachak. 'I really don't know where she picks up such language, Holy One.' he declared. He turned his attention back to the bottle. 'Please, dear, don't be nasty.'
Another spiteful little hiss came from the bottle.
'Now that's going entirely too far, Zith. You come out of there at once.'

She sat on a pile of fragrant hay and bounced tentatively a few times.
'And this will make wonderful beds. I hope we can find a place like this every night.'
Garion walked over to the door and looked out, not trusting himself to answer. He had grown up on a farm not really all that much different from this one, and the thought of a band of marauding soldiers swooping down on Faldor's farm, burning and killing, filled him with a vast outrage. A sudden image rose in his mind. The shadowy faces of the dead Murgos hanging on those stakes might very well have been the faces of his childhood friends, and that thought shook him to the very core of his being. The dead here had been Murgos, but they had also been farmers, and he felt a sudden kinship with them. The savagery that had befallen them began to take on the aspect of a personal affront

from The Lives of Belgarion the Great (Introduction, Vol. IV)