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Nothing but the hand.
Every detail is noted in the press of fingerprints and the crook to the middle finger. Somehow filling the image with… pain.
I can’t help but run my finger over it, and the first slither of contact makes me gasp.
“Raven?” Brax murmurs, concern echoing in my ears.
“I’m okay,” I whisper, my gaze locked on the image that’s causing a stir inside me.
Creeping more of my hand over the image, I can feel every callous and imperfect inch of the paper. I hover, my fingertips aligned with those marked, my heart racing with the urge to press my palm against it.
It’s like the decision is taken from me as my hand falls flat against the parchment. Anguish consumes me, and my eyelids fall closed as my lips part.
“What once was mine was taken as yours. What once was pure was tainted with pain. What once was the heavenly divine of the afterlife was broken, tattered, and torn. What once was the Realm of Eternity became the Realm of Shadows. What once was broken will be no more.”
I gasp, yanking my hand back as I blink at Brax.
“Did—”
“I heard it,” he murmurs, and my shoulders relax with relief while my body still trembles from the surprise of the woman’s voice that played in the air.
“I can’t… I… what?” I ramble, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“I’m not going to lie, that sounds like the kind of prophecy shit Eldon would tell me about from one of his visions.”
I nod in agreement before taking a deep breath. “What are we supposed to make of it?” I ask, repeating the words in my head.
“I think it’s a promise of exactly what Sebastian mentioned, it just doesn’t tell us how to make it happen,” Brax offers, reaching around me to turn the page.
The handwriting turns from cursive and elegant to jagged and sharp.
When green arches hold delicate reds, all that is needed is a touch of darkness, a promise of change, and an unwavering belief.
I read it again, and again, and again, before flipping the page, but there’s nothing except blank sheets. One after another, after another.
“What does that mean?” I grumble, flipping back to the start of the binder with no success.
“When green arches hold delicate reds, all that is needed is a touch of darkness, a promise of change, and an unwavering belief.” He reads the passage out loud, offering no bright moment of realization.
“I need a drink,” I murmur, tapping on his arm to release his hold on me. I head to the kitchen with a stomp, swinging the fridge open to grab two bottles of water before turning back toward the couch.
“It’s still amusing that you don’t just use your magic,” Brax states as I throw a bottle toward him. He catches it with ease and I shrug.
“Sometimes, I like the simplicity of doing something mundane. It can help me clear my mind,” I explain, and he looks as bewildered as before, a smirk quirking the corner of his mouth at my expense.
Rolling my eyes, I turn away from him and look out at the afternoon views. The water looks still in the distance, even though the trees on the coast move with the wind.
Maybe stepping outside, getting some fresh air, and soaking in the earth beneath me might help me think. With my mind made up, I move toward the patio doors but pause after taking only two steps.
Backtracking, I frown at Creed’s bedroom door. The confusion only deepens the longer I look.
“Brax?”
“Shadow.”
“Has there always been a green glow coming from Creed’s room?”
I can feel his eyes roll even though my back is to him. “No, why?”
