Chapter Thirteen
As the light of day strengthens and the summer sun begins to blaze down, we clear a space on the outpost floor.
The cracked stone beneath us becomes our makeshift table, where we spread out maps and the prophecy, preparing for the journey ahead.
The dynamics of our newfound “team” are impossible to ignore—Ronyn seems far too pleased to have some other men on his side, Seren looks as though she might bolt at the slightest sound, Kael exudes infuriating smugness, and Therion.
.. well, Therion seems pissed off. Some team we make.
“I’ve always assumed we’d just start from the first paragraph,” I say, running my fingers over the delicate lines of my mother’s handwriting. Her words feel alive under my touch, each stroke of ink a reminder of everything that’s brought me to this moment. I clear my throat and recite:
“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.”
I glance around the group. “It was my Starday three days ago. So, I guess I’m officially in my twenty-fifth summer.
” I take a breath, willing confidence into my voice.
“And I’ve reclaimed my name. Elyssara.” My name on my lips feels like a rebellion against my past. I say it not in secret, not in defiance, but aloud, in the daylight, with them all watching.
I pause, glancing down at the parchment. “The next paragraph?”
Kael’s eyes are already on me, steady and unyielding. “Bless the Stars for your birth, Elyssara,” he says, his tone low but carrying the weight of sincerity. My name on his lips does something traitorous to my chest, heat blooming in my cheeks.
It’s an ancient phrase—spoken only on a child’s naming day among the Starborn. I blink. Why does it feel like a vow?
His hand lifts, brushing gently against my upper arm as he speaks.
Then, light flares.
It’s not subtle. It crackles beneath his fingertips, sparking in the air around us in a golden burst that seems to ripple outward.
Kael jerks his hand back, inhaling sharply at the magic sparking under his touch. He tries to keep his features neutral, but I see the way his eyes flare almost imperceptibly. He’s just as shocked as I am.
Everyone freezes.
Ronyn, of course, is the first to break the silence. “Wow. All that for him touching you? Should I be jealous—or taking notes?” His grin is almost gleeful.
My cheeks flare red again, and Therion huffs an almost imperceptible laugh, but I ignore it.
Kael doesn’t look surprised. His gaze flickers between me and the fading glow around us, his brow furrowing in thought. “It’s your magic,” he says finally, his voice quieter now, as though the words carry a weight only he can feel. “It must be... responding.”
“To what?” I snap, though my voice is barely more than a whisper.
“To you... Your emotions,” he says simply.
“And what were you feeling, El?” Ronyn snorts, wiggling his eyebrows up and down, nudging his chin toward Kael.
I shoot him a fierce glare, trying but failing to not rise to the bait.
I turn back to the group, and Kael’s eyes lock on mine, a mix of curiosity and something far more elusive—reverence, maybe, or familiarity.
Whatever it is, it sends a shiver down my spine, and for a fleeting moment, I forget how to breathe.
“It’s never done that before,” I admit, trying to steady my voice, though I can’t hide my unease.
“Maybe it’s just... getting more active now that I’m in my twenty-fifth summer?
I don’t know.” My fingers fidget with the edge of the parchment, eager to move the conversation along.
“Anyway, let’s move to the next paragraph? ”
I clear my throat, the words etched in my memory spilling out:
“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.”
I glance around, trying to gauge their reactions.
“I think I know where to begin,” Seren says softly, her voice barely cutting through the weight of the moment.
“What do you know, Little Star?” I prompt, my tone gentle but encouraging, hoping to bolster her confidence.
Seren hesitates, her eyes darting around self-consciously.
But then she sits a little straighter, resolve flickering to life in her expression.
“There are legends of a temple beyond the Frael Forest, near Mount Lyssar. It’s said to be protected by an enchantment.
Many think it’s a myth, but some claim to have entered and returned.
.. different. They speak of seeing loved ones long gone to the Stars and facing terrors they can’t describe. It fits the prophecy’s description.”
The room goes still, Seren’s words hanging heavy in the air.
Therion’s constant gaze shifts, sharpening as it settles on Seren. His jaw tightens, and I brace for one of his cutting remarks. But when he speaks, his tone is softer, though still edged with curiosity. “Not bad, little girl. Are you... Starborn?” His eyes narrow in scepticism.
Seren’s eyes sharpen, her anger flaring brighter than I’ve ever seen. “No, I’m not Starborn—thanks for confirming I’m not ‘blessed.’ Just ordinary. Or would you prefer ‘inferior’?”
Therion blinks, visibly taken aback by her sudden boldness. His voice softens, almost apologetic. “I mean no offence... I just thought I could sense magic—something—on you.”
“Well, you don’t. I’m ordinary,” Seren snaps, her voice sharp as a blade. Then she stands, brushing imaginary dust off her linen skirt, and squares her shoulders. “Now, shall we get this blade or what?”
The silence that follows is deafening.
Ronyn, of course, is the first to break it. “Well, I guess we’re going to Mount Lyssar,” he says, slinging his bow over his shoulder with a grin. “Can’t wait to meet these ghosts Seren was talking about. Sounds like a good time.”
Kael nods once, his expression unreadable, though his eyes linger on Seren a moment longer. “Mount Lyssar, then,” he says. “We leave immediately.”
And so, the next verse of the prophecy begins—with us walking straight into it.