Page 147 of Stormvein

From the ashes of shadow, the storm shall rise,

Not as conqueror but as keeper of what was lost.

The vessel transforms with power unlooked for,

The stranger becomes that which was foretold.

“Vessel,” she repeats.

The order built on fear shall face its trial thrice:

Once against shadow, once against memory,

And finally against that which they never foresaw.

Their foundations tremble not with war but with change.

“Three trials.”

“Maybe River Crossing is the first one?”

“The second trial mentions memory … and the third …”

“Something they never foresaw.” Her head lifts, eyes meeting mine. “My power? Our powers combined?”

Two forces never meant to meet shall intertwine,

Their union defies the patterns of ages past.

What seems an ending is merely transformation,

The circle breaks where none thought it could bend.

The final lines settle into the silence between us.

“It’s all here. Everything that’s happened. It’s all laid out like a script we’ve been following.”

“Prophecies can be interpreted many different ways,” I say. “It’s possible we’re seeing connections that aren’t really there.”

“Are we?” She moves away from the table. “The tower, the crossing between worlds, silver eyes, shadow and storm working together. How many coincidences does it take before it stops being a coincidence?”

She’s right, and we both know it. The prophecy is too specific, too accurate to be mere coincidence. But that raises questions that are even more troubling than the ones we started with.

“If this was all foretold. If everything we’ve done was predicted, then what does that make us? Are we making choices, or are we playing out something already decided?”

“I don’t know.” I take a breath, and then give voice to the truth I’ve been holding close. “But there is one thing I’m certain of.”

“What?”

“What I feel for you isn’t written in any prophecy. The connection between us may have been sparked by magic, but it’s grown into something that belongs to us alone.”

She stares at me for a long moment. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because prophecies predict events, not emotions. They can’t manufacture love or trust or the thousand small moments that build intimacy between two people.” I move closer to her. “The prophecy might have brought us together, but it didn’t create what exists between us now.”

I take a deep breath, coming to a decision.

“There’s something else you should know.”