Page 58 of Unravelled
“What do I do?” Mira’s voice wavered, caught between the fear of what she had seen and the quiet comfort of Danlea’s presence.
“I do not know,” Danlea said, her eyes full of sorrows. “I never know. The future is not a set path but a sea, ever-changing. I can show you the waves, the pull of the tides, but only you can decide which way to steer.”
Danlea pointed to Mira's feet. Mira looked down to see a boat rocking gently beneath her.
Its polished wooden hull dipping with the rhythm of unseen waves.
But there was no sea, no horizon, only an endless sky stretching in every direction.
The stars were not above them, they were below, within the waves.
The boat drifted through a sea of constellations, their golden threads weaving intricate, shifting paths. Mira gripped the edges of the vessel as she leaned over the side. The stars pulsed, their glow piercing through dark waters that were not waters at all, but light.
“This…” Mira whispered, voice hushed with awe. “This is what the Navigators must have felt like.”
Danlea sat across from her, the folds of her gown pooling around her feet like mist. She smiled, dipping a single finger into the glowing water beside them.
Ripples spread. The constellations twisted, their threads unweaving and rewinding, into the same patterns.
The boat rocked slightly as Danlea lifted her hand, pointing toward a particular place among the tangle of stars across the waters, a convergence.
Mira’s gaze followed, landing on the glowing knot of threads where many constellations met.
Unlike the others this one did not pulse.
It waited.Mira swallowed, a strange weight settling in her chest. It glowed beneath them, a golden heartbeat beneath the sea of night.
Mira looked across the waters and saw others like it.
They seem uncommon, and this was the closest one.
Mira reached forward, hesitating. The moment her fingers brushed the waters, warmth flooded her. A deep, resounding pull, like the tide changing direction, like she had been caught in a current too strong to fight.
Her voice was barely a breath. “What is it?”
Danlea’s let the boat drift closer, its wooden frame groaning softly as the water of stars lapped at its sides. Then, finally, she spoke.
“This, Mira” she murmured, “is your choice.”
Mira’s fingers hovered over the golden convergence, her pulse matching the slow, steady rhythm of the lines around it.
The warmth from the water seeped into her skin, curling into the marrow of her bones.
It was unlike anything she had ever felt, not just power, not just knowledge, but something more. Something alive.
The boat rocked gently beneath her, carrying them forward, though there was no wind, no current, only motion. Danlea sat in perfect stillness, watching, waiting.
Mira swallowed hard, her voice barely above the whisper of waves against the wooden hull. “What… am I choosing?”
Danlea’s silver eyes reflected the constellations around them, as though the stars themselves bent to her presence. “Your path.” Her voice was as steady as the sea beneath them, as the stars that lit their way. “The choice is yours, which way to steer.”
Mira’s chest tensed, her breath shallow and strained.
Steer. She had spent her whole life moving between both, and even more so since her memories were stolen, grasping not for survival, not for the greater good, but for the simple, radical act of choosing.
Of claiming something for herself. This moment, this felt like her choice entirely.
No one was guiding her hand, no manipulation shaping her path.
It was hers. And it terrified her. Mira tore her gaze away from it, from the unspoken promise tangled within its threads. She turned to Danlea instead.
“What happens if I refuse?” she demanded. Her voice cracked against the silence of the star-filled void .
Danlea did not flinch. She simply tilted her head, unshaken by the venom in Mira’s words. “To let the boat drift is also a choice.”
Beneath them, the golden threads throbbed, causing the boat to sway. The sea of stars whispered. Danlea leaned forward, just slightly. Enough that the space between them lessened, enough that her words came low, careful, deliberate. Then, gently, “This is the bargain you made with them.”
Mira’s breath hitched. The word curled through her mind like a ghost, pressing against something distant, something buried deep. “With who?” she whispered.
“I can not tell you, you will know this in your own time” Danlea's voice was as smooth as water lapping against the sides of their boat. “Soon.”
The stars under them pulsed faster, and she felt the pull of waking. Queen Danlea's form wavered, the delicate strands of her gown unraveling into mist. Her edges blurred, as if the dream itself was pulling her away, strand by strand. Yet her expression remained serene.
Mira’s vision blurred as she hear a whisper, “Wake now, Mira”
The stars folded inward. The sea of light turned dark. Soft mist swallowed the constellations one by one. The boat faded. The warmth receded and Mira fell.
???
She blinked, breath caught in her chest, the scent of lavender grounding her in reality.
Her thoughts stirred sluggishly, but gradually, the room came back into focus.
Someone, gentle yet steady, held her back in silent support.
She lifted her eyes and met Perrin's. Her veiled face hovered close, her white robes a curtain of softness and sanctuary. Mira’s head rested against the Cleric’s shoulder, as if she had been there for hours.
Danlea knelt beside them, her gown pooling like moonlight on the floor. Her milky eyes studied Mira with an intensity.
“Do you understand?” Danlea asked. The question pressed like a tide pulling at Mira. She closed her eyes.
The cracked marble of the Great Hall. Brahn seated where he never should have been. The stars. Sarelle. Ren. The flicker of truth that danced just beyond her reach. And that final golden convergence, waiting for her. Her choice. Not yet made.
Mira opened her eyes. The room was soft with silver candlelight. Her throat ached, but her voice was steady when she finally spoke. “I understand.” .
Danlea nodded. Perrin shifted only slightly beneath her, but her voice was quiet and warm, a hum beneath Mira’s bones.
“Come. The Veiled Night approaches, and you must be ready.”