The Spell of Us

Prologue

A temple, many centuries ago…

Amidst the whispering petals of an ancient cherry blossom tree, the Oracle’s voice trembled as it wove a prophecy that would shake the very foundations of the world.

“When twilight weaves its veil and the world’s breath falters,

a God of arcane power and purity shall be born,

his mind a darkened mirror of wisdom and cunning.

As darkness ascends,

he must find a counterpart

whose voice weaves the fabric of magic itself.

Their silent spells will breathe life into his shadowed power.

Their fates will entwine, their shared strength a thread that binds

the Fate of all.”

The Oracle’s eyes rolled back into her head, her hands clutching the stone surface until her knuckles whitened as she repeated the prophecy over and over.

The priests stood their ground around the altar, knowing it was wiser not to interfere when the Fates had a message for them.

The Oracle had never spoken a prophecy that hadn’t come to pass, but this time something more violent accompanied her prediction.

Even the eldest priests, who had served through decades of her trances, exchanged uneasy glances.

Whatever spoke through her now did not come softly, and it did not ask to be heard, it demanded it.

The Oracle’s eyes snapped open, irises glowing like molten gold, and she silently pointed toward the temple entrance.

A woman covered in blood came running through the temple, carrying a crying infant in her arms. With her last strength, she placed the babe in the arms of the old Abbot.

“Dear Fates, it is already happening.”