Page 95 of The Midnight Death Match

They all shake their heads, expressions puzzled.

I look again—and the runes blaze to life under my fingers, golden lines of fire that seem to burn themselves into my vision.

The words pulse with meaning, with power, with the weight of prophecy. But when I look at my sisters, I see only confusion in their eyes. They’re staring at the shield with the polite attention of people humoring a beloved relative’s eccentricity.

“You really don’t see them,” I whisper.

“See what?” Runa asks, her voice small.

I step back, breath shallow. “The words. The message. They’re right there, blazing like fire, and you… you can’t see them.”

“Eira,” Brynja says gently, “there’s nothing there but the carving.”

But the runes burn brighter as I stare at them, as if responding to my attention.

“I’m the only one,” I whisper.

The realization hits like a physical blow. Secret Keeper. Not by choice, but by blood. By purpose. Whatever burden our mother carried, whatever knowledge she possessed, it didn’t pass to all of us equally. It chose me.

Just like everything else.

The weight of that settles on my shoulders all over again—heavier now because I understand how alone I am in carrying it. My sisters can see the shield, can touch it, can appreciate its beauty. But the deeper truth, the hidden meaning, the responsibility is mine alone.

“Eira?” Torvi’s voice is concerned. “You look pale.”

I force a smile, though it feels like cracking glass. “I’m fine. Just… tired.”

“Maybe you should rest,” Helga suggests. “We’ve all been through a lot lately.”

They file out one by one, each offering a gentle touch or reassuring word. But their comfort feels distant, filtered through the gulf of what I can’t share with them. They see their sister, strange and sometimes distant, but they don’t see the weight I carry. They don’t see the words that burn like brands across their mother’s shield.

When I’m alone again, I sink onto my bed and stare at the shield. The runes are still there, still blazing, still demanding answers I don’t have.

The Secret Keeper’s Shield.

It protects the bearer of the secrets.

The bearer protects those entrusted to her.

If you can read these words,

You are her.

You have been entrusted with much.

Your blood carries the necessary magic.

Follow it, protect those in your care.

Be brave, be strong.

You have no other choice.

Everyone depends on it.

What if some things are meant to be broken, meant to be borne alone?

I touch the surface of the shield, feeling the warmth pulse beneath my fingers. The metal responds to my touch like a living thing, recognizing something in my blood that it finds in no one else.