Page 146 of Stormvein

“The leaders are going to want to know what happened at Blackstone Ridge.”

“It will keep until tomorrow. Go and rest. I feel you’re going to need it for the days ahead.”

“If you need me?—”

“I will call for you. Go, Nul’shar.”

He hesitates for a second longer, then quietly leaves us alone. Clearing a space on a small table near the hearth, I open the case, and remove the scroll, unrolling and securing it at the corners with small weights to prevent it from recoiling.

“Can you read any of it?”

Ellie leans closer, studying the symbols. “Some of it. But not the entire thing. It’s like I should understand it, but I can’t make out the words.”

Interesting.

I begin translating, reading each line aloud. The prophecy is extensive, covering nearly the entire length of the scroll, but certain passages stand out with new relevance after what happened at Blackstone Ridge.

When shadows lengthen and dawn falters,

The Vein will flow once more.

Ancient power stirs from slumber deep,

In darkness bound but never broken.

I pause. “That could refer to my imprisonment and return.”

She nods.

The tower of silver stands alone,

Where desert winds scour memory to dust.

Waiting for the one who walks between worlds,

Beyond the boundary of our knowing.

“The tower,” she says quietly. “And someone who walks between worlds.”

What is divided seeks to be whole,

What is imprisoned yearns to be free.

The raven’s wings span across the void,

Calling to what cannot yet be named.

As I speak these lines, my familiar stirs from where it’s been resting beneath the skin of my shoulder, its head lifting.

Where shadow leads, storm will follow,

Awakening that which lies dormant in the void.

Silver eyes reflect the changing tide,

When one power falters, another shall rise.

Her hand moves to her face, touching the corner of her eye, where silver flecks have become permanent fixtures.