Turning back to Seren, I crouch so we’re eye to eye. “Little Star,” I begin gently, using the nickname that’s always soothed her—the same nickname my mother gave me. “I’ve been preparing you for this for years—I’ve always hoped you’d come with me when the time came. You are more ready than you realize. Your strength isn’t in blades or bows.” I press my fingers to her heart. “It’s here.” Then to her temple. “And here.” I wipe the tear from her cheek with my thumb and squeeze her shoulder, letting my words settle into the space between us.
Her voice is a whisper, her hope fragile but growing. “Wh—What do you mean?”
“What have I asked you to read about over all these years?” I probe.
“Ah...” Her brow furrows as she searches for an answer. “Well, a lot of damn temples, that’s for sure,” she says, a wobbly smile tugging at her lips.
“And what else?” I prod gently, coaxing her along.
“Mountains, peaks, forests, villages, hunting... magic, of course. And the constellations,” she rattles off the topics I’ve urged her to study.
“Good,” I say, my voice steady but warm. I reach into my pack, pulling out the parchment that holds the prophecy. Its edges are worn from years of careful handling, the ink slightly faded but still clear. “Now, Little Star, read the prophecy.”
Her fingers tremble as she takes the parchment, her eyes scanning the words at a speed only Seren could manage. She doesn’t speak as she reads, her expression shifting from apprehension to dawning realization.
“I’ve been reading about the prophecy,” she breathes, awe lacing her tone. Her eyes meet mine, her earlier fear replaced by something far stronger. “The locations, the keys... how we’ll survive!” Realization dawns on her.
“That’s right,” I say, pride swelling in my chest. I watch as her back straightens, her shoulders squaring. The resolve blooming on her face is unmistakable. She’s beginning to see her place in this—her gifts, her value.
“Not all wars are won with steel, Little Star,” I say softly. “We have to be clever, too.”
She nods, her fingers tightening around the parchment. The flicker of confidence in her eyes has become a steady flame, and I know now that she’s ready. Or as ready as any of us can be.
“That reminds me,” I unloop the leather on my satchel and pull out a single lunafleur to hold it in her line of sight. Lunafleur blooms exist only on dining tables of nobility behind The Lightborne Barrier in Virellin for just two months during the summer. “It’s just like you,” I say, pushing back her unruly curls and tucking the purple bloom behind her ear. “Beautiful. Sweet. Vibrant. And it hates the cold.”
“Oh my flaming Stars!” She squeals, reaching her fingertips tothe petals and gently smoothing her hair behind them. “It’s magnificent,” she breathes, then her eyes settle on me. “I can do this. I can guide us through this prophecy,” her voice strengthened with resolve.
“I’m counting on it,” I say with a wink.
“Great, now she’s smarter and braver than me. Thanks, El. Way to raise the bar before we’ve even started.” Ronyn, of course, swoops in to turn a beautiful moment into exasperation.
I can’t help but let a smile tug at my lips. These people are my family. Wildly different paths have somehow converged here, and together we’re about to leave behind the only thing we know better than anything else: the slums. This moment will mark both a beginning and an ending, and the weight of that is not lost on me.
I scan the loft, ensuring that we are somewhat organized—packs, water skins, bedrolls, food—but my gaze catches on Revryn. He’s standing at the edge of the room, his eyes already on me, steady and unwavering. But something is off.
I glance around, suddenly noticing the absence of his belongings. My chest tightens. “Why aren’t you packed?”
He shifts slightly, his gaze dropping to the floor for the first time. “Darlin’,” he says softly, “I can’t come with ya.”
The words hit me like a blow. “What?” My voice is sharp with disbelief. “Why not?”
“The Royal Guard will know something is amiss as soon as I leave,” he says softly, his voice laced with a weariness I’ve rarely heard. “They may still respect me, but they sure as hell don’t trust me. I never leave the slums, and they know it. And...” His gaze finally lifts to mine, his expression solemn. “I’m too old for this journey. You need to forge this path on your own.”
“But—” My throat tightens, the words tangling on the way out. “But, Revryn, I need you.”
“No,” he says firmly, stepping closer. “You don’t. You never did. You’ve always had what you needed to survive—your strength, your grit, your heart. You’ve been more ready for this than you realize, Elyssara.”
Tears prick at my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. “I’m not ready. I—I can’t do this without you.”
“Yes, you can,” he says, his tone soft but unyielding. “You’re the best fighter I’ve ever trained—better than any Royal Guard I ever served beside. Too smart for your own good. And dammit, you’re more beautiful than all the Stars in the sky. This is your destiny, darlin’. Yours to fulfill.”
“But I don’t want to do it without you,” I whisper, the words escaping as a plea, a whimper, a truth.
Revryn places his hands on my shoulders, his grip firm and steady. “I’ve taught you everything I know. You carry it with you, in every strike, in every step. And when you’re standing on the other side of this, victorious, I’ll be right here, waiting for you to come home.”
The dam breaks, a single tear slipping free as I lean into his touch. His words fill the cracks in my resolve, bittersweet and steadying.
“Now, go on,” he says gently, his hands falling away. “You’ve got a world to save.”
