I stiffen. “It was just—”
“A coincidence?” His voice is quiet, but there’s no gentlenessin it. “You don’t believe that.”
My chest tightens. My pulse thunders. My thoughts scatter, trying to find something solid to hold.
“Then what do they think I am?” I whisper.
Valen’s gaze darkens. “A threat.”
The word hits like a strike to the chest. I flinch.
I stare at him, my mind refusing to accept what he’s saying. “No, it’s not possible.I’m nobody!”
But Valen doesn’t back down. His voice lowers, each word like iron.
“The prophecy speaks of more than just standing against the Shadow Forces, Amara. It speaks of a reckoning.”
I shift uneasily in the bed, restless energy surging through me.
“The Spiritborn is not simply a warrior or a savior—she is the fulcrum on which the fate of the realm will turn.”
My breath catches. “What does that mean?”
“It means you are not just meant to fight,” Valen says, his voice low and clear. “The prophecy does not say whether you will save the world or doom it—only that you will decide its fate.”
I shake my head. “That’s not possible. I’m not—I can’t—”
“You don’t have to believe it,” Valen cuts in. “The Shadow Forces already do. That’s why they came for you. And that’s why they won’t stop.”
My chest tightens, a sharp ache blooming beneath my sternum. “You’re saying . . . they’re afraid of me?”
He doesn’t blink. “They’re afraid of what you might become.”
Valen’s gaze holds mine—unflinching, like he’s watching my fear take shape.
“The Prophecy speaks of trials,” he says. “A path forged in fire, shadow, and sacrifice. You will be tested. Broken. Reforged.”
A beat.
“And in the end . . . you will either rise—”
His pause is deafening.
“—or you will fall.”
A cold shiver runs through me. “And if I fall?”
Valen’s expression hardens. “Then the darkness will not need to destroy you. It will claim you as its own. The Prophecy does not say how you will succeed. Only that you must.”
I shake my head, leaning away from him against the pillows, as if distance might somehow undo his words. “No. No, this—this isn’t real.”
But Valen presses forward, his voice iron now.
“The ancient texts speak plainly. Of fire. Of shadow. Of sacrifice. The Spiritborn is not merely a warrior. She is acatalyst. The world as it stands cannot survive the darkness that’s coming. You will eitherend the darkness—orbecome part of it.”
I wrap my arms around myself, like I can hold in what’s cracking beneath the surface. My hands are trembling, my skin’s gone cold.
“No,” I whisper. “Stop—”
