Page 2 of The Beginning (Covert Moon, #1)
Kalana peered into the billowing fog where Mikelle directed her words. At first she saw nothing but swirling vapor, but gradually a shape began to emerge—the vague outline of a figure, tall and still. Her breath caught. Was this one of the mysterious beings from her interrupted vision?
"Tell me who you are." Mikelle's voice had sharpened, taking on an edge that made Kalana's skin prickle with unease. "Why are you here? You have no business in this sacred place."
The anger in her tone struck Kalana in its fierceness, so unlike the Mikelle she knew.
In all her years of witnessing visions, she had never heard such hostility from a seer in communion with the Aumahnee.
This was a place of peace and revelation, not confrontation.
What could she be seeing that would provoke such a response?
Worried whispers began to spread around the circle again. Kalana lifted her hand once more, though she shared their concern. Something was very wrong here.
Then Mikelle turned toward her, and she saw that her eyes still blazed with that brilliant gold fire.
The telling eyes meant she remained in the hands of the Aumahnee, despite her harsh words.
When she spoke again, her voice had transformed—no longer angry, but carrying the distinctive cadence of divine revelation.
Even young Berin recognized the change, her quill scratching across parchment as she began to record.
The words that flowed through Mikelle came in the formal speech of prophecy, each syllable precisely articulated:
"In a time of great turmoil, in a land mundane,
Peace will prevail when ruled by one name.
Through strife and war, across realms and ages,
Peace will come, its path unseen by mages.
The day is done. Let three become one."
The final words echoed through the grove like a bell tolling, seeming to resonate in the very stones beneath their feet. Then Mikelle pressed both hands to her forehead and spoke once more, her voice heavy with exhaustion:
"It is finished. The seeing is complete."
Silence descended over the gathering like a shroud. Even the fire seemed to burn more quietly, as though it too waited to understand what had just occurred.
Mikelle blinked once, twice, and the gold fire faded from her eyes. She looked around with growing confusion, then understanding dawned. The expression of horror that washed over her features made Kalana's heart clench.
"What have I done?" she whispered, her voice breaking. "I broke the circle. I abandoned the sacred unity."
Her knees buckled. Kalana was close enough to catch her before she fell, and three other seers rushed to her aid. Together they carried Mikelle back to the fire, laying her gently on the soft grass within the circle's embrace. Kalana knelt beside her, taking her cold hand in both of hers.
The other seers gathered close, their faces etched with worry and confusion. Fear spread among them like ripples on a dark pond, and Kalana felt it seeping into her own heart despite her efforts to remain calm.
Stop this, she commanded herself. There is nothing to fear here.
This was clearly still a divine vision, even if it had unfolded in an unprecedented manner.
Just because the Aumahnee had shared their sight through the unified circle for hundreds of years didn't mean they were bound to continue doing so forever.
The divine ones were not constrained by mortal expectations or traditions.
She looked up at the anxious faces surrounding her, seeing her own uncertainty reflected in their eyes.
"It is not our place to question how the Aumahnee choose to share their wisdom with us," she said firmly.
"We have witnessed something extraordinary tonight, not something to fear.
Let us wait and see what understanding comes. "
Mikelle's eyes fluttered open, immediately seeking hers. "Kalana, I'm sorry," she whispered, her hand tightening around the head seer’s. "I didn't mean to?—"
"There is nothing to forgive," she interrupted, putting gentle steel in her voice.
She needed to eliminate any doubt about this, both for Mikelle's sake and for the stability of their order.
"The Aumahnee share their sight as they will, not as we expect them to.
They are not bound by our traditions, however ancient and sacred they may be. "
She accompanied her words with a reassuring smile, and after a moment of searching her face, Mikelle relaxed. Her desperate grip on her hand gentled.
"What did you see?" she asked. "Can you share it with us?"
She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "Yes. I remember it clearly."
"Please, sit if you can manage it."
She helped Mikelle to a seated position, then gestured for the other seers to return to their places around the circle. The fire had burned lower but still provided warm, steady light. Some of her seers continued to wring their hands or murmur quiet prayers, their distress evident.
This wouldn't do. They needed to hear Mikelle's account and restore some sense of order to their sacred space. She needed to guide them back from fear to understanding, to help them see this as revelation rather than catastrophe.
Once everyone had settled, Mikelle began her account.
She described the figures in the mist—two of them, she was certain, though neither human nor divine.
Their faces had remained hidden, their gender and race impossible to determine.
What was clear was their otherness, their fundamental difference from anything in the natural or supernatural realms the seers understood.
"They were strangers in the truest sense," Mikelle said, her voice growing stronger as she spoke.
"Beings from beyond our world, our understanding.
The first carried a weapon—not just a sword, but something that seemed to cut through reality itself.
The second..." She paused, pressing fingers to her temples.
"The second was offering something. A choice, perhaps, or a gift.
I couldn't see what, but the weight of it was enormous. "
She recounted the prophecy she had spoken, the words flowing from her with the same precision they had carried in her vision state. Young Berin looked up from her parchment and nodded to confirm she had recorded everything accurately.
"Thank you, Mikelle." Kalana's voice carried across the circle with quiet authority.
"You have served both the vision and our order with honor tonight.
The revelation has been preserved, and though we could not share the sight with you as is our usual blessing, we have been given the wisdom through your voice. For this, we are grateful."
She looked around the circle, noting the gradual relaxation in her seers' postures as familiar ritual restored their sense of stability. This had been unprecedented, yes, but not destructive. Perhaps even necessary.
Perhaps this is how the Aumahnee mean to prepare us for change, she mused. Perhaps they are showing me who will lead when my time in this circle ends.
"Let us close the circle," she said.
At her quiet words, all the seers rose. Mikelle stood with them, steadier now, and they arranged themselves around the fire pit.
Together they extended their hands toward the flames, calling down the gentle rain that would end their ceremony.
Water fell from the clear night sky in silver drops, hissing against the burning wood until only glowing coals remained, then cooling even those to ash and memory.
The sweet smoke of the quickening herbs lingered in the air like incense, a reminder of the sacred space they had shared.
Kalana looked around the circle one final time. Tonight had shaken them all, herself included, but they had weathered it together. She would remain watchful for other signs of change, but she would not allow her seers to be crippled by fear of the unknown.
"So we are shown," she said, infusing her voice with warmth and confidence.
Around the circle, fourteen voices responded in perfect unison: "So shall it be."
As the seers began to disperse, returning to their separate paths through the forest, Kalana remained beside the cooling fire. The prophecy echoed in her mind: Peace will prevail when ruled by one name... Let three become one.
Whatever was coming, whatever those mysterious strangers represented, the Aumahnee had seen fit to warn them.
She would be ready.