The compass rests ‘neath the watcher’s eye.
In shadowed depths where roots entwine,
The crown reveals the path divine.
Her skin shall glow with threads of light,
Each relic found will burn more bright.
Piece by piece, the Lightborne wakes,
To bend the dark, the veil it breaks.
Where ruins burn and the Flame-heart sleeps,
The dragon stirs in the soul it keeps.
And in the skies where wild winds sing,
Beast and bond form a timeless ring.
The Lightborne and Sky must tread as one,
Their union unlocks what must be undone.
Vengeance shall blaze to balance the scales,
And justice shall rise where all else fails.
When relics awaken and powers combine,
The chains will fall, and the Stars shall align.
Her destiny looms, unknown and untamed,
To balance the world or shatter the frame.”
The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning.
“I’ve read it a thousand times,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “But tonight, for the first time, I feel it. The mark—the prophecy—it’s calling me. And I don’t know how to answer.”
Revryn leans forward, his expression softer now, though his voice remains steady. “You’re not answering it alone, darlin’. You never were.”
Seren nods, her hand still hovering near my shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, Isk—Elyssara,” she corrects gently. “We’re here.”
Ronyn finally speaks, his grin returning, though it’s tempered with something almost reverent. “Yeah. Besides, how hard can it be to save the world and take down a king? Sounds like a regular Tuesday.”
The laughter that follows is shaky but real. I might not have to carry this weight alone.
The Stars have called me home—and this time, I’m ready to answer.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Revryn sitscross-legged on the floor, maps of Dravara scattered around him in a chaotic constellation of parchment and ink. The weathered prophecy lies beside him, its faded lines catching the faint lantern light. Seren, ever the scholar, has barricaded herself behind a fortress of books, her fingers already tracing through pages in search of answers to what the Stars might demand of us next.
Revryn has lived in Virellin his entire life, but his time as a weaponsmith in the Royal Guard has taken him across the kingdom. He sourced steel from the volcanic forges of Vyrhal and traded designs with the artisans of Galreth. If anyone can decipher the locations of the keys or relics in the prophecy, it’s him.
For as long as history has been recorded, maps have been among the most valuable weapons of war. They hold the power to shape battles, conquer empires, and protect borders. And nowhere is this power more desperately guarded than in The Shadow Wastes.
