Everyone freezes.
Ronyn, of course, is the first to break the silence. “Wow. All that forhimtouching you? Should I be jealous—or taking notes?” His grin is almost gleeful.
My cheeks flare red again, and Therion huffs an almost imperceptible laugh, but I ignore it.
Kael doesn’t look surprised. His gaze flickers between me and the fading glow around us, his brow furrowing in thought. “It’s your magic,” he says finally, his voice quieter now, as though the words carry a weight only he can feel. “It must be...responding.”
“To what?” I snap, though my voice is barely more than a whisper.
“To you... Your emotions,” he says simply.
“And what were you feeling, El?” Ronyn snorts, wiggling his eyebrows up and down, nudging his chin toward Kael.
I shoot him a fierce glare, trying but failing to not rise to the bait. I turn back to the group, and Kael’s eyes lock on mine, a mix of curiosity and something far more elusive—reverence, maybe, or familiarity. Whatever it is, it sends a shiver down my spine, and for a fleeting moment, I forget how to breathe.
“It’s never done that before,” I admit, trying to steady my voice, though I can’t hide my unease. “Maybe it’s just... getting more active now that I’m in my twenty-fifth summer? I don’t know.” My fingers fidget with the edge of the parchment, eager to move the conversation along. “Anyway, let’s move to the next paragraph?”
I clear my throat, the words etched in my memory spilling out:
“Five keys await to unbind her light,
Where shadow and star must share the night.
Beneath the temple where fears take form,
The blade ignites and the veil is torn.”
I glance around, trying to gauge their reactions.
“I think I know where to begin,” Seren says softly, her voice barely cutting through the weight of the moment.
“What do you know, Little Star?” I prompt, my tone gentle but encouraging, hoping to bolster her confidence.
Seren hesitates, her eyes darting around self-consciously. But then she sits a little straighter, resolve flickering to life in her expression. “There are legends of a temple beyond the Frael Forest, near Mount Lyssar. It’s said to be protected by an enchantment. Many think it’s a myth, but some claim to have entered and returned...different. They speak of seeing loved ones long gone to the Stars and facing terrors they can’t describe. It fits the prophecy’s description.”
The room goes still, Seren’s words hanging heavy in the air.
Therion’s constant gaze shifts, sharpening as it settles on Seren. His jaw tightens, and I brace for one of his cutting remarks. But when he speaks, his tone is softer, though still edged with curiosity. “Not bad, little girl. Are you... Starborn?” His eyes narrow in scepticism.
Seren’s eyes sharpen, her anger flaring brighter than I’ve ever seen. “No, I’m not Starborn—thanks for confirming I’m not ‘blessed.’ Just ordinary. Or would you prefer ‘inferior’?”
Therion blinks, visibly taken aback by her sudden boldness. His voice softens, almost apologetic. “I mean no offence... I just thought I could sense magic—something—on you.”
“Well, you don’t. I’m ordinary,” Seren snaps, her voice sharp as a blade. Then she stands, brushing imaginary dust off her linen skirt, and squares her shoulders. “Now, shall we get this blade or what?”
The silence that follows is deafening.
Ronyn, of course, is the first to break it. “Well, I guess we’re going to Mount Lyssar,” he says, slinging his bow over his shoulder with a grin. “Can’t wait to meet these ghosts Seren was talking about. Sounds like a good time.”
Kael nods once, his expression unreadable, though his eyes linger on Seren a moment longer. “Mount Lyssar, then,” he says. “We leave immediately.”
And so, the next verse of the prophecy begins—with us walking straight into it.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
There is onlyone way to get to Lyssar Temple, and that is through the Frael Forest and over Mount Lyssar. Kael and Therion estimate it’ll take at least two weeks on foot if we move fast and rest little. That path leaves us vulnerable and exposed to jagged terrain, unknown beasts, the Royal Guard, and the volatile temper of the elements.
We’ve barely eaten, have next to no supplies, and only one water skin between us—we need horses. Horses in the slums are a rarity—I’ve never ridden one, only seen the towering beasts that the Royal Guard trample through our streets.
