Nyssa
Istart walking again back to BlackFen Edge, even as the snake hooks itself around my wrist and slithers up my arm.
“Even if you hadn’t, it would still be you. Only you would simply be a mortal with extraordinary power,” it says eventually.
“And why is that so secretive that you had to wait five minutes to tell me?”
If snakes could shrug… yeah.
“Look, snakey, is wearing you my destiny? No bullshit, no pauses, no mysterious arseholing riddles. Straight up. Can you do that?”
“The Wraith Crown is your destiny.”
“Well, it doesn’t come much plainer than that, now, does it?” I mutter.
“Killing Aethel simply accelerated the timeline. Both yours and the Devourers.”
“Your former boss, you mean.”
“If you wish.”
“I don’t wish! I don’t wish any of this! I’m aslayer. Not a goddess, not some Devourer killer.”
“A slayer kills those who threaten humanity.”
I grimace. “Okay, smart arse. I hear you.”
Silence.
The sea has gone wrong. The waves don’t smash so much as count. One, two, three. Pause. One, two, three.
“What is happening?” I murmur.
“Tidewraith,” Dreven’s voice replies, appearing next to me. “Sorry to disturb your need for solitude, slayer, but you are needed.”
“Just as things were getting interesting,” I mutter.
“The Harbinger,” the snake hisses and curls up on top of my head.
“Harbinger?” I snap, causing Dreven to tilt his head.
“Tidewraiths appear only when there is something larger coming.”
“You mean the Devourer,” I gulp.
“Not here. Not yet.”
“What is it saying?” Dreven asks, gesturing to the top of my head.
“You can see it?”
He nods.
“It says Tidewraiths are Harbingers. They only appear when something larger is coming.”
Dastian sprints past us, with Voren hot on his heels, making me frown. “Move it or lose it, slayer! Our powers have vanished, and we are about to become part of the ocean.”
“What?” I croak as Dreven frowns and holds out his hand.
