The moment everything changes.
Not because they chose it, but because the Stars already have. Because the prophecy doesn’t hand new destinies out like a cosmic street merchant—it demands recompense for its generosity.
And it’s time to collect.
It always does. Just never when they’re ready for it.
“Enough,” Kael growls, voice low and grave. “We’re here for information to reclaim Elyssara’s throne, not for court gossip.”
The others startle, but no one corrects him. They only stare, unmoving. They’ve been doing that more and more. But then again, he’s been snapping more and more, too.
Tendrils of whisper-soft light brush against his mind, inquisitive, reaching.Elyssara. But this fragment of Decay living inside of him needs to be contained. Held close. Imprisoned within him. For Kael will be no infestation. No burden on his Starbound. His family.
He pushes her away, eyes darting to Elyssara’s. She pulls back—just slightly, but real.Hurt.And he feels it, sharp and immediate. Another thing slipping beyond his control.
His chest tightens.
Fuck.Get it together.
Before they start to see what lurks beneath his grief.
He clears his throat, rolling his neck.
“Elandor, we need information?—”
But Elandor is already moving, rifling through papers on his desk.
“I have prepared a file for you, Your Highness. Just… one… moment,” he mumbles under his breath, hands plucking at parchment.
But Seren doesn’t wait. “Lara,” she shouts uncharacteristically. “Do you know of her?”
She schools her features into a look of neutrality, but her pulse races at her neck, her chest rises and falls too fast.
Elandor’s head lifts from the mountain of tomes and scrolls stacked high and precarious on his desk. “Lara, Lara, Lara,” he repeats, testing the words on his tongue. “No, dear. I don’t believe I do. Which means there is no record of her that exists in Nymeris—I’m privy to every tome, scroll, and ledger here. May I ask why?”
Kael swallows frustration at the derailment. It rises hot and sharp in his chest. His hand balls into a fist under the table. He’s not sure why, but it happens anyway.
Teddy’s eyes clock the movement.
Fuck. They’re noticing.
Seren pushes up from her chair, leaning on the table, her posture measured and precise. “Because I believe she’s also a witch.”
The room stills.
No one breathes.
The words hover in the air.
“You’re a dreamer,” Jax mumbles, condescending and aggrieved.
Rubi lets out a puff of air, but brask is never far from her lips.
Elandor stands a little straighter, his eyes never moving from Seren.
“It doesn’t mean she doesn’t exist… it means we have no records of it. However, we have Shades on every continent of the Known Realms, and there have been no reports of witches in years. Decades, even.”
But Seren doesn’t falter. “And yet I walk among you.”
