Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
NISSA
Cillian swings his arm out to stop her. The perfect milky skin on her cheeks goes red as she stumbles backwards, only avoiding falling when she catches herself on a table inside.
“We aren’t here to hurt you,” I call out as she continues her retreat. I step out from behind Cillian, my hands held up in a non-threatening gesture.
The fear on her face contorts to a moment of confusion. Then horror returns to her delicate features. “Nissa,” she breathes out, her eyes frantically darting between Cillian and me.
Both of us go unnaturally still. “You know who I am,” I say as I take a step into the doorway.
“Of course. I would recognize those eyes anywhere.” She grips her forearms and looks to the floor, “may stone and soil steady your steps,” before straightening again, looking between us. The earth fae respect.
“I was hoping to ask you some questions, Celyste,” I speak slowly and softly to not spook her any further. “May we come in?”
“And him?” She tilts her head towards the prince behind me. Cillian has a hand on my lower back in support.
“And him.” The storm is raging at our backs. What sounds like a tree crashes in the distance.
This gets Celyste’s attention too. She finally gestures for us to come inside. Walking carefully backwards, her distrust obvious, she leads us to a room off the hallway and offers us seats.
The inside of the cottage all feels very mortal, or at least what I have learned of it.
Very little evidence of the elements are present: a single plant, one wind chime by the window, a candle glowing on a shelf, and a tiny recirculating water feature in the corner.
Other than that, there’s simple seating, lamps, and a table at the center of the room.
Cillian and I settle next to one another on a couch. I welcome the heat of his skin as his body brushes mine.
Celyste looks down at our wet legs pressed to one another. After a moment she tosses me a blanket. I wrapped it around the two of us.
“What can I do for you, Princess?” She sits nervously on the edge of the cushion, hands tangled in her lap, and back straight.
It doesn’t go unnoticed that she’s only addressing me. I give a quick glance to Cillian and decide to take the lead. “I was hoping you could tell me about the prophecy that calls me a ‘mirrored princess.’”
Her eyes dart back to Cillian and hold. “Why come all this way when you can just ask him?” Her voice is cold.
The thunder above shakes the trinkets on the shelves.
“I’m just here to help Nissa find the answers she is looking for,” he says. His tone is stern, demanding. One of the royals.
She lets out a humorless laugh. “And bring Gaia’s wrath to my doorstep?” She gestures outside to the storms.
“You think this storm is from Gaia too?” My heart sinks into my chest in a downward trajectory to my stomach. This confirms my worst fears. “Please,” I plead, “Is my sister’s death a part of prophecy? Do you know what is causing the storms?”
She studies my face while the wind continues to howl outside the windows. Pity fills her eyes. “Nova may be part of the storms now,” she offers, her tone softer. “But it started with you.”
“Me?” I stare at her, confused.
“I left because of you. The storms are because of you. The answers to all your questions come back to you.”
That can’t be correct. I’ve only been the Princess for a few weeks.
Cillian threads his fingers through mine. “We’re going to need more information than that.” The deep timber of his voice sounds lethal.
“Your family,” she snaps at him, “wanted me to lie to the Fae about what the Goddess wanted. What was prophesied from the beginning! And I wasn’t going to lie to you.” She looks at me now, the look of a mother trying to comfort a child.
“Why would they want it hidden? What does the prophecy say?” I fight the quaver in my voice. I’m not a younging. I’ve come for answers.
Cillian grips my hand tighter, both of us waiting, worried this can only get worse.
“The prophecy that you are to rule,” she states matter-of-factly.
I snap my attention back to her. “Nova was supposed to rule,” I say, finally finding my voice. “Halcya said so at our birth!”
She nods slowly at my outburst. “Yes, but so are you. Halcya may have been ok with disregarding an ancient prophecy but I wanted nothing to do with it. And they wanted me killed for my knowledge. So here I am.” She gestures to the room around her.
I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”
She sighs. “The mirrored princesses.” She stands, moving to a shelf across the room. She pulls out a scroll but the parchment isn’t aged like those in the ancient archives.
“I knew they would try to get rid of all evidence so I copied the prophecy before I ran. If it still exists, you can find the original in the ancient archives or with the High Priestess.”
She rolls out the single piece of parchment in front of us. A manicured nail points to the passage at center of the page.
When twin daughters bloom beneath the veiled skies,
Born of breath and root, where old power lies,
A realm once whole shall split once more,
Two Crowns to rise from ancient lore.
One shall guide the winds that roam,
One shall stir the seeds of home,
Each to thrones the stars foretold,
In mirrored lands both fierce and bold.
Joined by flame, embraced by sea,
Fourbound fates shall come to be,
Yet secrets shield what must remain,
Until the storm reveals the flame.
But shadow waits behind the veil,
To test their will, to see them fail.
Should mirrored daughters heed the call,
Two thrones shall rise, or kingdoms fall.
Blinking, I read the lines over and over.
“It is clear both of you were to rule,” she continues. “I interpreted it to mean Nova would rule Solevara with Caspien, and you would rule Varethiel with Aiden.” My head jerks up at this.
“Aiden?” I blurt out, cutting her off.
“Yes, based on the birth order-”
“Wait- wait, Aiden has the same birthdate as us?” The words rush out of me. My head is spinning. “Did you know that?” I turn towards Cillian.
“No…” We sit there for a moment staring at each other, both of us unsure what to make of this new information.
Cillian’s deep voice fills the silence. “Is there any other context? What did the rest of the text say?”
“Nothing that I felt of importance to record.” He eyes her for a moment as if trying to determine if she is trust worthy. This is simply a hand written document by a former priestess. Without the original we can’t verify the validity of it.
As if prompted by the uncomfortable assessment, she continues, “The Vaylors set Varethiel up with a ruling council before any of you were expected. I’m assuming they had never heard of the prophecy and didn’t realize the implications.
Halcya instructed me to keep the prophecy quiet after the births so the kingdoms wouldn’t panic about the change that would come. ”
She shakes her head, looking down to the floor. “But they never had any intention of you ruling. That was confirmed for me the moment they sent you away. And clearly Gaia realized it too since the storms started soon after.”
I just stare at her, speechless. I had never put together that the storms started after I left. I was so young and lost in my grief of being separated from Nova and Cillian.
“I tried to fight it. I tried, Nissa, I really did,” she implores.
“When I continued to question Halyca and tried to go directly to the Vaylors, I was removed from the Priestess ranks. She made everyone think I was crazy. Once you left, I knew the Vaylors wouldn’t let someone who knew about the prophecy live.
So I copied the important part and ran. I had planned to come back once you were older but…
I was a coward. Then word of your sister’s death came…
” She looks down, tears falling onto her lap. “I knew it didn’t matter.”
Hands fisted at his sides, Cillian continues to study the page. “When did the prophecy surface? Who was the source?”
“I don’t know when it surfaced.” Celyste swipes away tears, gathering herself. “Asteria and Gaia had a hand in the prophecy. I wasn’t far enough into my studies to be sure why the witch Goddess was involved in our politics.”
“My parents knew the whole time.” Cillian grips my hand. “This settles it. You’re not safe in Solevara.” He searches my face with intensity that overflows my heart.
“Halcya met with your mother often back then. It was clear she knew and orchestrated many decisions. Though I can’t imagine your father wasn’t part of it.”
“But this doesn’t explain anything about Nova or help us stop the storms,” I argue. “I can’t fulfill this prophecy, whoever I marry," I wave at the parchment, "since she’s dead. There’s only one of us to rule.”
“The Vaylors”—she spits out the royal name in disgust, glaring at Cillian—"don’t care about stopping the storms. All they are interested in is maintaining their power even if it is at the expense of those they rule.”
“I care about those we rule.” Ignoring the venom she’s directing his way. “We can’t do anything about the fact that Nova isn’t here anymore. So, how do I stop the storms?” Cillian demands.
He still wants to fix it for the Fae, even though the prophecy can’t be completed.
“How can you be sure it is about the prophecy at all if the storms are still happening?” How can you be so sure?” I challenge the female in front of me. She has a lot of opinions but only one thing is confirmed in the words in front of me. That I am to rule. Everything else is just guessing.
“You’re right, I can’t be sure. But if I were to guess why they are still happening and why they followed you here…” She drops her eyes to our linked hands.
A loud boom echoes through the forest. I look out the window and spot a fallen tree. This forest is being as battered and beaten as Castara and the elemental lands.
Is me becoming Caspien’s queen the key to making the destruction stop…? Has the prophecy shifted now that Nova is gone. Do I just need to be on the throne?
My mind whirls as I try to put the pieces together. “We need to go. We’ve learned all we can here.”
When we make it to the hallway, Celyste’s voice follows us. “I really am sorry, Nissa. For every part that I played and everything that has happened to you and your sister as a result of it.”
I turn back to face her. “Do you know what truly happened to her?”
“I don’t,” she states simply.
And I believe her.
The wind whips my hair around me as soon as we step back into the storm. Cillian turns and pushes both hands into my hair. Holding it back, he tilts my head up and looks into my eyes. I wonder if I look as haunted as he does.
“Where to, Nis? Anywhere you want, we’ll go,” he offers thickly.
“We have to go back.” The words are barely audible over the storm. But as soon as they leave my mouth, the wind disappears and the rain slackens. Thunder still rumbles but only in the distance, a low warning.
Cillian jerks his head around in shock.
“I think that answers one question,” I say, not sure whether to laugh or cry. “Gaia agrees. She wants us back in Castara.”
“I won’t just hand you over to Caspien. I can’t.” He is shaking his head, jaw tight. “I won’t.”
“According to Celyste, I was never yours to hand over,” I say.
He looks like I’ve slapped him. “I’m not trying to be cruel.
I just mean that we need to figure out what all of this means.
What the Goddess wants from me. Maybe I’m supposed to marry Aiden?
Who’s to say Caspien is the right choice in this?
Or that I’m now the Goddess’s chosen princess for him?
Nova and I may be the ‘mirrored princesses’ in the prophecy, but everything else is just guesses…
” I finally take a breath, wind filling me.
As he digests my rush of words, I heave a sigh. “My point is that we don’t even know what Gaia is truly angry about or how the prophecy changed with Nova’s death.”
His hands run down my arms like he can't let go. “Lila…”
“No, Cillian.” I place my hand on my chest. I take a step back, breaking the connection between us. “We can’t run. We have to figure it out. We have to go back. You know we do. You of all Fae know how detrimental these storms have been.”
“Why does it have to be you?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “But how can I walk away knowing I could end the suffering of our entire world? Of the entire Fae population. I have to at least try.”