Epilogue Fate’s Design
Vereandi
U rer sat on the edge of the well. The threads that wound around her fingertips dipped into the water that swirled at the old crone’s touch.
Beneath Urer’s wrinkled fingers, images danced across the water.
There was a burning palace, blood on the cliffs of Safír, and swirling dark mist that wove around gates made of black stone covered in ice.
“The Queen’s plan is playing out,” Urer said.
Vereandi glanced up from where she sat on one of Yggdrasil ’s mighty roots. Under her fingers, the new runes she had carved into the bark burned with the power of the gods. Although Vereandi missed her sleepers, it was awfully fun anticipating their next move.
“It’s exciting!” she squealed.
“It will be what it will be,” was the crone’s only reply.
Both the old woman and the young girl looked up from their respective places as the third woman strolled across the clearing.
Her fiery red hair drifted in a nonexistent breeze.
When she reached the well, she looked up into the lofty branches that circled higher than the eye could see.
Time and time again, she maneuvered something hidden within her hands that rattled with each flick of her fingers.
Vereandi could no longer stand the silence.
“What will happen to them, Skuld? Can they change what is to come?”
“We shall see.” Skuld unclenched her fist, revealing several carved stones. Runes of power, luck, destiny, wisdom, revival, anguish, and death were etched into them. Skuld rattled them once more before examining their lines.
“They are challenging Fate’s design.”