32. Separation of Paths
Separation of Paths
Triona
A path lay before me, stretching out in two distinct directions.
To my left, a shadowy road, twisted and gnarled, leading through a dense forest where the trees loom like dark figures.
The air is thick with an oppressive fog, and I can hear distant cries—a sense of danger, of death in every rustling leaf.
The path feels cold and unwelcoming, but necessary to save what calls me from within.
To my right, the path is bathed in a soft, golden light. Clear and wide, bordered by flowers in full bloom, with birds soaring overhead. This path is warm and filled with potential—yet it is obscured by a mist that warns something is hidden.
Both paths are shrouded in mystery, but one whispers of hope, while the other of destruction, and I’m not entirely certain the answer is obvious.
More images flash before my eyes, overwhelming all of my senses, until a voice calls out to me.
“Decide, Raven Queen,” the voice calls from the shadows, echoing softly in my mind. “But be warned that the path that seems impossible may be for the right of the whole. Living for all is the only choice, for living for one will end in destruction.”
It continues, “The items you seek are a power unyielding, a convergence of forces far beyond the understanding of mortal minds. To unite them is to awaken long slumbering foes who would see your purpose undone. You must choose to sunder your paths, for only apart can the whole be preserved.”
My heart pounds as the image fades, leaving me standing in front of Amelia and Mannie, shaking.
“Sweet mercy and a six-day hangover,” Bran mutters, his voice shaky as his eyes focus, pulling me from my thoughts.
I glance around, noticing unease on every face, mirroring my own. But it’s Finn’s face I can’t ignore. His brow furrows, lips tight. His eyes are darker, distant, as if he’s seen something unspeakable.
I’m about to ask when his gaze flickers to me. Something unreadable flashes across his features before he schools his expression, a familiar mask sliding into place. “What is it?” I ask, my voice small.
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “It was just a lot,” he replies, voice steady but rough. His calm delivery would convince anyone else, but I know him too well. Still, his performance is impeccable.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his tone soft, tender.
I nod, though the tightness in my chest lingers. His concern feels genuine, yet I can’t shake the sense he’s carrying something too heavy to share.
“I believe so,” I whisper, though the weight between us remains. Finn studies me for a moment longer before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to my lips.
When he pulls back, his eyes search mine, and his voice is steady but full of conviction. “You will be okay,” he reassures me. The tension in his shoulders doesn’t ease, but his warmth lingers, grounding me.
The group exchange glances, unease still thick in the air. Bran’s bravado falters, and even Callan’s usual gruffness is replaced with a rare quiet. It’s Casey who finally speaks, his voice steady despite the tension. “If what I just saw is any sign that what they say is to be trusted… ”
Amelia’s eyes soften at the question, her shoulders relaxing just slightly.
“You need to get past your grievances between one another.” Amelia looks between Callan and Finn, and then Bran and Casey.
“If you remain at odds, you’ve no chance.
And second… prepare. There’s a storm coming, and it’ll test every one of you. ”
Mannie turns toward Callan. “The blade of eternal light, forged in Gorias, holds the essence of fire itself, said to banish even the darkest shadow. Only a warrior of unyielding courage can wield it.”
Bran and Casey exchange glances. Mannie continues, “The Cauldron of Plenty, resting in Murias, provides not just sustenance, but rejuvenation. It is a vessel of life, granting strength to those in need. Its discovery depends on unity and unwavering loyalty.”
Finally, Mannie looks at Finn. “The Spear of Lugh, kept in Findias. It is said that no battle fought with it will end in defeat. It chooses its bearer only in the presence of profound purpose.”
I look at each one of the men I trust the most with a fondness. “You all saw your task then—that we must now part ways?”
They nod, tension lingering in their stances, but resolve flickers beneath the unease.
“Triona, will you share all that you saw?” Mannie presses.
I nod and begin. “Casey and Bran must journey together, their task bound to the unity and loyalty required to claim the Cauldron of Plenty. It’s not a simple prize to be taken.
It demands qualities that the two of you possess.
Casey’s steadfast loyalty and grounded strength balance Bran’s quick thinking and adaptability. ”
I continue. “Meanwhile, Callan, Finn, and I will travel toward the Hill of Tara to awaken The Stone of Fál, as its roar will determine the course of all that follows. These paths are intertwined, yet separate, demanding that we trust not only in ourselves but in the bonds that tie us together.”
Casey shifts uncomfortably, glancing at me. “I’m not too fond of leavin’ ye.” His tone is clipped, his jaw tight as though he’s holding back. I offer him a small smile, trying to ease the tension.
Bran crosses his arms, his expression hardening. “You’re stuck with me, Casey, so let’s just hope we don’t kill each other on the way.” His voice carries a sharp edge, barely masking his frustration.
“What’s with the two of you?” I ask, suspicion creeping into my tone. They lock eyes briefly, tension thick between them, but neither answer .
Bran mutters under his breath, his voice flat and laced with irritation, “Nothing.”
Casey’s shoulders stiffen, and he exhales sharply through his nose. “Aye, nothin’ to it,” he states, his tone brusque, refusing to meet my gaze.
Mannie steps forward, his expression solemn.
“The path ahead will be fraught with trials that reach beyond the limits of flesh and spirit. Each step you take will unravel truths that may shatter even the strongest of hearts. Forces older than memory, darker than shadow, will rise to oppose you, fearing what you might become.”
Finn’s grip on my hand tightens, his gaze flickering between Mannie and me. “If that’s the case, then she willnae face it alone. None of us will let that happen.”
Bran smirks, though his eyes carry a flicker of concern. “Aye, we’re in this together. On that, I can agree.”
Deidre speaks from her position in the room.
“Strength will come not just from the bonds you’ve already formed, but from those yet to be made—alliances forged in adversity and friendships built through trials.
Trust that these connections will guide you when the path grows darkest. Trust in one another. ”
Mannie nods. “Together, united by bonds forged in fire, in blood, and some even in silence; you may yet find the power to prevail over the forces that seek to undo you.”
Finn
I’m resolved to make good on my promise to mend things with Callan, especially in light of all we’ve uncovered in these past days. There is too much at stake for us to remain divided, and any further delay would only deepen the rift.
The revelations from Mannie and Amelia have laid bare what we may come to face.
Alone, we will falter, but together, we may yet succeed.
It is a humbling realisation, one that steels my determination.
If Callan and I cannot reconcile, it will be more than just our bond that suffers; it could spell ruin for us all.
I find Callan in the stables. The soft, rhythmic sound of a brush moving over a horse’s coat greets me as I step inside.
As I watch him now, I notice something I’ve been too blind to see since coming home: how different he looks and acts. There’s a hardness about him, anger simmering beneath the surface that has only intensified in my absence. I should have considered that before I did what I did.
The unease from earlier still lingers in the air. At last, I clear my throat. “Have you calmed down enough to talk like civilised humans? Or do I need to brace for another fight?”
Callan stiffens but doesn’t turn. “Depends,” he mutters, his tone clipped. “Have ye come to tell me it was all in jest?” He finally looks at me, his gaze sharp but less volatile than it was before. “My sister, Finn? Ye’ve got a rare nerve, I’ll grant ye that.”
I square my shoulders, keeping my voice steady. “Go on, Callan. Get it all out. I’ll take yer anger. I’ll take it because I know I deserve some of it.”
The tension thickens between us. I gesture toward the open doors. “If ye’d rather settle this with fists, let us step outside. Perhaps that will help you find reason?”
Callan’s eyes narrow, his fists already clenched, and he gives a sharp nod in return. “Aye, Finn. Perhaps that’s exactly what I need.”
We step into the night; the chill doing little to quell the heat of our unresolved words.
The brittle leaves beneath our boots crunch in the stillness as we move away from the stable, the open air before us becoming an unspoken battleground.
Callan halts, turning to face me fully. His expression is a tempest of anger, frustration, and something deeper—a worry he cannot quite mask.
“D’ye even understand what it means if ye muck this up?” he asks, his voice low but laden with emotion.
“Aye,” I say firmly, my gaze unwavering. “More than you might think. I’ve thought of little else, Callan.”
Without a word, we strip off our shirts, down to our trousers, each movement deliberate and tense.
“Why risk everything for her? She is my blood, and if ye hurt her, there’s no forgiveness. ”
“I willnae harm her, Cal,” I affirm, voice calm and controlled. “That ye’d even suggest I could be so lowly cuts deep. You know me better than that. ”