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The route to that is tricky,

As my grasp is firm and tight.

To shake me, some run, some hide,

And well, some die.

Most attempts prove futile,

And many just give up.

But those with determination rarely stay stuck.

What am I?”

Thicket clawed through her mind, searching for any pieces of useful information, any easy clues that could give her someplace to start, but it was still so jumbled. She couldn’t even think of a single word that might describe the subject of the riddle.

She ran over it in her mind again and again and again.

Everyone is born with me, and many die with me.

What could that be? A heart?

But some manage to escape.

How did one manage to escape a heart?

She crossed that idea out.

Word after word after word. They all came, and they all went, none of them even coming close to fitting the riddle.

The Tricker of Thoughts stayed dubiously quiet, those sharp canines gleaming viciously, as though just waiting for her to fail so it could sink them into her flesh.

A sob almost exploded past her lips.

She was so close.

So close.

Yet at the very end, she would fail, just like every other Vogeli who had tried desperately to prevent the prophecy from fulfilling—and ended up fostering it instead.

Because of that, Lavender would pay with her life.

No matter how hard they tried, none of them had been able to escape their wretched fates.

To shake me, some run, some hide,

And well, some die.

Thicket froze, mind racing.

Most attempts prove futile,

And many just give up.

But those with determination rarely stay stuck.

Instead of asking a spider, of all things, to change your fate, Marcellus had said, maybe you should focus on making sure you are capable of changing it yourself.