29. TWENTY NINE #3
The female Ecliptuari reached up, her gloved fingers hooking beneath the edge of her silver mask and pulled it off. I felt terror when I saw who was underneath the mask ?
It was Seraphina.
But not the withered, aging woman in this house. This was a younger Seraphina, her skin like polished marble, her China blue eyes burning with a cruel, celestial light.
She leaned in close to Donte, her hand ghosting over his unmarked cheek with a terrifying tenderness. “Little Starling,” she whispered, her voice a low, seductive rasp that made my skin crawl.
“There is a different path for you. The others will be feared, but you… you will be loved.
The male Ecliptuari’s masked face turned toward Torin and Donte, his voice a low, rasping whisper.
“Look at them, Fionn. Your brothers live because you are willing to bear what they cannot…”
Fionn’s eyes flicked to his brothers,
to Torin’s hands as he played in the blood.
to Cillian trying to charm the girl as she lay taking her last breath.
to Donte’s hollow stare.
Then back to his own shaking fingers.
But his attention went to the girl on the floor.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed, the words barely a thread of sound. “I’m so sorry for what I had to do.” He spoke directly to the body on the floor, the life now gone from her eyes”
The Ecliptuari leaned down, whispering into Fionn’s ear like a Serpent. “Do not apologise for allowing the realm to survive Vareth’s curse for a decade. Your hands were marked for this long before you were born.
The Order does not reward innocence, only endurance. Let the fear feed the Hunter. Give into the heart, and it will devour you.”
I reached out, my fingers trembling as they ghosted over his bruised cheek. I wanted to scream into the dead air that he didn’t need to kill the girl. I wanted to tell Cillian to get up and stop, but he was afraid the Ecliptuari would take his brother’s eye.
I wanted to rip Torin away from the blood and stop him being turned into a psychotic fool.
I wanted to rip Seraphina’s fucking throat out with my bare hands as I watched how she and the man they call Sire manipulated the four brothers into becoming the hunters they are today.
Namarelle tugged at me. We must go, your future awaits.
***
Faintness blurred my vision, and I found myself standing on a deeply polished black floor in a vast white room, surrounded by lit torches that shone like the sun.
Through the towering windows, I saw a sky that was not my own.
Two moons hung heavy above the horizon, and a red sun was rising—the red sun of Elora. I recognised it instantly.
The air shimmered with a thicker atmosphere, each breath feeling unfamiliar. Though Namarelle was gone from sight, I could feel her presence.
"Behold your future," she whispered.
When the light subsided, I realised I was naked, wrapped in a silk sheet. In front of me stood a large, ornate gilt mirror, its frame covered in writhing carved constellations. I wanted to turn away, to refuse the truth, but the pull was irresistible.
Intense sadness engulfed me as I began to age until I no longer recognised myself.
Lines etched across my skin like cracks in porcelain, and my hair silvered strand by strand.
My youth dissolved before my eyes, replaced by an older stranger.
All the while, the room glowed red as the Blood Moon of Elora climbed higher, its ancient curse searing through me, burning away what I had been. For a moment I felt connected to it.
Despite my reluctance, I felt drawn to the mirror. The silk sheet clung to me like a shroud, and my fingers trembled against the ruined reflection. All that remained was to see who I bonded with. Suddenly, I sensed their presence as if they stood right behind me.
Now I felt the pressure of Namarelle's hand pulling me off my feet, but I resisted. I had come this far; I needed to see who It was.
"Your fate is inevitable. You made the wrong choice," she warned. “I need to see. I need to know," I insisted.
Namarelle's grip trembled, her voice breaking with strain. "I cannot hold the vision, human."
"No! I’m not finished! This is what I came for," I replied.
For a heartbeat, I seized control. The light flickered, and the force slackened.
Namarelle's eyes widened in shock as I fought to stay present.
Just then, I noticed something flickering at the edge of my vision.
I could have sworn I saw Fionn lurking in the corner of the mirror's frame.
His features were blurred. I blinked, trying to bring him into focus.
Then his figure shifted and another shadow formed behind me.
Cillian's familiar shape emerged. For a moment, shadows danced across his face as the curse seeped into him, contorting his features into an older version just like me. Was I looking at Fionn or Cillian? Or was the curse simply wearing their faces to torment me? I couldn’t understand why both were in the same room.
But then I understood.
I wasn’t seeing one future. I was seeing two.
Darkness began to close in.
And then I met Namarelle’s eyes. She looked hollow, as if dragging me through the vision had drained the last of her strength.
The tunnel of light began to thin, and the world pitched, I spun, my stomach dropping, back toward my body .
"Open your eyes, Tilly."
My lungs found air, and my eyes slammedopen. I was back in the room.
I blinked, trying to put my thoughts together, the pity I had felt for him in the vision turned into fear. I wanted to scream at him that I knew what they’d done to him, but the tightening of his fingers on my skin told me he didn't want my sympathy.
Portraits stared down from the walls, their faces turned to me, their eyes no longer just portraits but witnesses to what was unfolding here. Namarelle stood where she had left me, pale and still clutching the Orb.
"Breathe, Tilly," Seraphina said in her calm but brittle voice.
"The sensation will pass."
Torin interjected excitedly, "What did you see?"
Fionn loomed at the edge of the room with his cold expression. I looked at him and all I could see was the boy trying to shield his brothers from the lash, his face twisted in fear. It made me sick to my stomach, knowing that the boy who suffered so much was the same man planning my death.
I looked at Cillian and felt the same sympathy.
He was a young boy manipulated into submission, a child who had traded his heart to stop his brother losing his eye.
The heartbreaking truth was he stepped forward because of his bond for his older brother.
A wave of exhaustion wash over me, not just tired but utterly emptied.
"I travelled through the light into your world. I saw your world. I saw the moons and the blood moon rising.
There was a cold, white room with a mirror. I saw my future."
I met Cillian's gaze through the blur. The 'charming' tilt of his head was gone, replaced by a predatory stillness. I saw the training in his posture now—the "charm" Seraphina had forced into him like a weapon to lure in girls like me.
Cillian's jaw tightened. "Who was your bond? Was it me? Tilly…tell me. Or did you see my brother’s shadow in that mirror?”
I looked to Cillian and then to Fionn both listened with interest.
“I couldn’t be sure. There were two fates, I replied. “It was hard to understand who I chose”
Seraphina walked towards Fionn, looking at him as if sharing a secret, then at me.
“Child, futures can be bent. That’s why we needed Namarelle, her guidance was important.”
Namarelle interrupted with urgency, speaking in a language I didn't fully grasp. Now that I was back in reality, her voice was quick and urgent, she shook her head with fear as if she was warning me. I wanted to ask her what was wrong but without the Orb I couldn’t communicate.
Seraphina glanced at the others before fixing her gaze on Fionn. Something passed between them, a look heavy enough to silence the room.
My voice came out raw as I looked atCillianstill in shock "Cillian if what she showed me is true, there is two paths.
Deep inside me I was twisting the truth. The path the mirror showed me led to me binding to the wrong person, and that horrified me because I realized now that no matter who I chose, I was choosing a monster created by a torturer.
“Return Tilly to her room. That’s enough for today.” Said Seraphina as the Ecliptuari opened the doors and walked into the room.
Cillian took my arm, gripping it too tightly. What the hell was wrong with him? The pity I had felt for him in the past vision turned to fear. I wanted to scream at him that I knew what they’d done to him, but the tightening of his fingers on my wrist told me he didn't want my sympathy .
"You're seeing the true side of him now, the one who steals hearts and smiles as he steals the soul.
" came the voice, as if trying to twist the knife.
He moved with terrifying speed, dragging me down corridors that seemed to stretch and warp beneath the weight of his anger.
He wanted me away from the Sternlit Halle, away from his brothers. I could feel it.
When we reached my chamber, the charming mask he usually wore was gone.
At the door, he didn’t just stop. He stepped into my space, his shadow stretching up the door and onto the ceiling. His arm shot up beside me, boxing me in with a single movement.
He stared at me like a predator about to pounce.
With his other hand, he yanked the door open with such force that the heavy oak groaned. I was surprised he didn’t rip it from the hinges. My heart raced. He was angry in a way I didn’t understand. It was too sudden.
The scar tightened, the skin around it paling as his jaw clenched.
Before I could slip past, he shoved me hard against the wood. The heat radiating from him was intense, as if the curse was burning it’s through his skin.
"You will never dance for him again," he hissed. It wasn’t a request, it was a demand.
The jealousy in his voice was sickening because it wasn't about love, it was about ownership.
He looked at me exactly the way Seraphina must have looked at him when she was stripping him down and turning him into a charming weapon.
I wanted to duck away from him, climb into my bed and pretend that Cillian hadn't turned into some kind of Celestial monster.
But just like that, he was gone, and the crushing pressure against my chest vanished, leaving me to wonder what just happened.
I paced the room for hours, my wrist still burning where he had held me .
The last thing I thought of before sleep took me was the realization that I was feeling sympathy for my own abductor.