Page 172 of Blade of the Nightking

The missing bone will break the state,

Riven by Seven, carved of fate.

Open flesh, unmake the thread,

Each must yield the first blood shed.

Drink, once you have been judged thrice⁠—

Past and longing claim their price,

Last, the truth your heart would shield.

What lies within shall be revealed.

He who holds the missing limb

Bends life and death to suit his whim.

Keep it sealed, whatever cost,

Lest all the world be lost.”

He'd memorized the prophecy. He must’ve read it a hundred times over to be able to recite it so perfectly.

In one smooth motion and without so much as a warning, he drew the blade across his palm. Blood welled instantly from the gash.

“What are you doing?” I cried, aghast.

He exhaled in annoyance and levelled the knife toward me.

“Open flesh, unmake the thread. Each must yield the first blood shed.” He waited expectantly.

“We're supposed to cut ourselves?” I stared at him. “Are… are you sure?”

He gave me a look that suggested I was rapidly exhausting his patience.

I sidestepped him. “Get that thing away from me,” I said acidly, fixing him with my most venomous glare. “I can do it myself, thanks.”

I drew my own knife from my belt. I'd never cut myself on purpose before, and I balked at the thought of it. Not that I'd ever let him know that.

Clenching my jaw, I dragged the blade across my palm, hissing through my teeth. My skin parted easily, blood staining the steel red. It stung like hell.

I sniffed and straightened, doing my best to appear nonchalant, as though slicing myself open was something I did every day. Rìan watched me with a knowing glint in his eye that suggested he wasn't fooled for a second.

It irritated me. “Now what?”

Without answering, he extended his hand over the mouth of the well. I watched as droplets of blood fell into the darkness below.

“Now you.”

His condescension was rapidly becoming intolerable. Suppressing the urge to roll my eyes, I stepped forward and held my hand over the well. Blood slipped from my fingertips, vanishing into the darkness after his.

I frowned. I didn't feel anything… Was I supposed to? Judging by the crease deepening between Rìan's brows, he'd expected something to happen too.

“Well?”

His wound was already knitting itself closed. Wiping the remaining blood against his trousers, he withdrew the prophecy from his pocket and unfolded it once more. Minutes passed as he stood at the edge of the well, reading and rereading words he already knew by heart.