Ava's POV
I never liked prophecies.
They never really felt like warnings to me. More like threats dressed in poetic metaphors. Because every time someone uttered a prophecy in hushed tones, it wasn’t to give hope—it was to prepare you for the weight of inevitability. And now, standing at the edge of the Cradle of Echoes, the place where the glyphs were born and where the Mirror's voice echoed loudest, I knew that prophecy wasn’t meant to be fulfilled.
It was meant to be *survived.*
Behind me, Kaelis tightened the straps of her satchel. Damon stood to my left, arms crossed, silent. Since our confrontation with Cireon and the Council, we had barely spoken. Not out of anger, but caution. The kind that brews when you know one wrong word could shatter everything.
"This is the last place sh
