Chapter Seven
The laughter fades, leaving a stillness too fragile to disturb. My family—the only people I’ve trusted with any piece of myself—sits around me, their faces lit by the soft glow of the lanterns. It’s not just curiosity I see—it’s something deeper. Something raw.
They’re waiting. For answers. For the truth. For the pieces of my life I’ve guarded like a fortress in my heart for all this time.
I grip the edges of my cloak, my fingers trembling. For so long, I’ve hidden this part of myself—even from the people who mean the most to me. But I can’t anymore. The mark won’t let me. The prophecy won’t. I won’t.
Slowly, I remove my cloak and pull at my tunic, exposing my collarbone, my shoulder, and finally, the etched Lightborne mark that revealed itself tonight, almost blinding everyone in The Tannery.
I’ve seen it only once before, in the heat of chaos and pain—as if the mark responds to my distress, rising against the chains that seek to bind it.
Perhaps the magic thrumming through my veins isn’t just a force but a living thing, a spark of defiance pushing back against its submissive bond.
Even now, as its faint shimmer dances across my skin, I feel it—a pull deep in my chest, like a fire begging to be unleashed.
It’s mine. And yet, it feels like it belongs to something far greater than me.
The mark is faint, not presently glowing, but its intricate lines almost imperceptibly shimmer with a silvery-gold hue that seems alive. The Stars stretch over my chest, the faint lines that connect the constellation glimmering softly from star to star.
The lantern light flickers across my skin, dancing with the Stars that have kept me in the shadows.
Seren gasps softly, her hand covering her mouth. She steps closer, her delicate hand hovering near the edge of the mark as if afraid to touch it. When her fingers finally brush my skin, her voice is barely a whisper. “It’s beautiful, Elyssara,” she breathes.
My name on her lips steals the breath from my lungs. For the first time, she knows me. It’s no longer a curse or a burden—but something sacred. A quiet vow between family.
Ronyn sits up straighter, his usual bravado slipping as he stares.
Revryn doesn’t speak, his gaze fixed on the mark as if it holds every answer he’s ever sought.
Finally, he exhales, his voice low and steady.
“Darlin’, I’ve always known you were something extraordinary.
I just didn’t know the Stars would make it so. .. literal.”
“This is why they came for me,” I say quietly. “Why they killed my parents. Why I’ve been running ever since.”
I reach into my boot, pulling out the piece of parchment I’ve carried for so long it feels like an extension of my soul. The edges are frayed, the ink faded, but the words are still legible—still seared into my memory. I could recite them without looking.
“My mother gave me this the night she died,” I continue, unfolding the parchment with careful hands. “She said... she said it was my destiny. My vow. My purpose,” I say, voice thick and weighed down from years of holding all of this alone.
I pause, the weight of that night pressing down on me like it always does. I glance at Revryn, his steady presence anchoring me, then at Seren and Ronyn, whose wide eyes remind me why I’m doing this.
“She said these words would guide me when the time came. That I’d know when to act.” My fingers trace the edges of the parchment. “I’ve been waiting twenty summers to feel ready. But I never have. And now... now, I don’t think I can wait any longer.”
I place the parchment on the floor between us, letting them see it for themselves. The prophecy, penned in my mother’s elegant hand, gleams faintly beneath the lantern light:
“In the twenty-fifth summer beneath Lireal’s Eye,
The Lightborne shall rise where the Stars deny.
Bound to the Sky, yet free from the flame,
She carries the light—and an unspoken name.
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.
On starlit peaks where the heavens sigh,
The compass rests ‘neath the watcher’s eye.
In shadowed depths where roots entwine,
The crown reveals the path divine.
Her skin shall glow with threads of light,
Each relic found will burn more bright.
Piece by piece, the Lightborne wakes,
To bend the dark, the veil it breaks.
Where ruins burn and the Flame-heart sleeps,
The dragon stirs in the soul it keeps.
And in the skies where wild winds sing,
Beast and bond form a timeless ring.
The Lightborne and Sky must tread as one,
Their union unlocks what must be undone.
Vengeance shall blaze to balance the scales,
And justice shall rise where all else fails.
When relics awaken and powers combine,
The chains will fall, and the Stars shall align.
Her destiny looms, unknown and untamed,
To balance the world or shatter the frame.”
The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning.
“I’ve read it a thousand times,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “But tonight, for the first time, I feel it. The mark—the prophecy—it’s calling me. And I don’t know how to answer.”
Revryn leans forward, his expression softer now, though his voice remains steady. “You’re not answering it alone, darlin’. You never were.”
Seren nods, her hand still hovering near my shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, Isk—Elyssara,” she corrects gently. “We’re here.”
Ronyn finally speaks, his grin returning, though it’s tempered with something almost reverent. “Yeah. Besides, how hard can it be to save the world and take down a king? Sounds like a regular Tuesday.”
The laughter that follows is shaky but real. I might not have to carry this weight alone.
The Stars have called me home—and this time, I’m ready to answer.