Chapter 8 – The Seer’s Warning
1035 Words
The path to the Seer’s dwelling wound through a part of the forest that Aria hadn’t explored before. It was older here—ancient, even. The trees loomed tall and twisted, their branches clawing at the overcast sky like skeletal fingers. A heavy mist clung to the underbrush, veiling the world in gray and quiet.
Ronan led the way, his steps sure, his eyes alert.
“Are you sure she’ll see us?” Aria asked, brushing a pine bough from her shoulder.
“She’ll know we’re coming before we even knock,” Ronan said. “She always does.”
“How do you know her?”
“She’s helped me before,” he said simply, though his jaw tightened like there was more he wasn’t saying. “She sees truths that others won’t admit exist.”
They came upon a clearing surrounded by stone pillars etched with ancient runes. At the center was a small cottage that looked more grown than built—its walls were woven with vines and moss, its roof blooming with wildflowers despite the cold.
Ronan stopped a few feet from the door. “Let me speak first.”
Before Aria could respond, the door creaked open on its own.
“Come on, both of you,” came a raspy voice from within. “Time is a river, and yours flows faster than most.”
Ronan sighed and gestured for Aria to follow.
Inside, the cottage was dim but not dark. Candles burned on every surface, casting soft gold light. Herbs hung from the beams, and the scent of lavender, sage, and something metallic filled the air. At the back of the room sat the Seer—a woman so old it was impossible to guess her age. Her skin was the color of worn parchment, her silver hair braided with bones and feathers.
Her eyes, though—they were a pale, glowing blue, almost too bright for her face. They pinned Aria like spears the moment she stepped inside.
“So,” the Seer said, tilting her head. “The last daughter of the Eclipse Line walks again.”
Aria swallowed. “You know who I am?”
“I knew who you were before you knew yourself.” The Seer rose slowly, her joints cracking with the effort. “Come. Sit.”
Aria sat on the cushion across from her, her heart thudding. Ronan remained standing, arms crossed.
The Seer reached out and took Aria’s hands in her gnarled ones. The moment their skin touched, Aria felt something jolt through her—like a gust of wind ripping through her soul.
“Your power is awakening,” the Seer murmured. But it is still wild. Untamed. Much like the girl who carries it.”
Aria opened her mouth, but the Seer shook her head.
“Silence. Let me see.”
She closed her eyes, and Aria felt her thoughts being sifted, her memories flickering behind her eyelids like flame.
The Seer’s face grew grim.
“There is darkness chasing you, child. A hunger born of shadow. You marked the day you were born.”
“What kind of darkness?” Aria whispered.
The Seer’s eyes snapped open. “The kind that wears many faces. Some you will recognize. Some will come as those you trust most.”
Aria felt cold crawl down her spine.
“You carry a legacy the world thought extinguished. The blood of wolves, witches, and moon-born warriors flows in your veins. And that blood calls to power—both yours and others.”
“Then I’ll fight,” Aria said, sitting straighter. “I won’t hide anymore.”
The Seer gave a sad smile. “Brave. But foolish.”
She turned her gaze to Ronan. “And you. "You would protect her with your life, wouldn’t you?”
“I will,” he said without hesitation.
“You may have to,” the Seer said gravely. “Because the darkness will test not only her strength, but your bond.”
Aria glanced at him, startled. “What does that mean?”
The Seer turned back to Aria. “There is a prophecy, child. Old and mostly forgotten.”
She reached for a leather-bound book beside her and opened it to a page filled with symbols. She read aloud, her voice like gravel:
> *When the moon’s blood returns to flesh,
And the silver flames of the sky shall thresh,
The market will rise, the chosen fall,
And night shall answer the ancient call.
One of the lights, one of the flames,
One with no pack, no given name.
The key, the lock, the tethered soul—
Beware the one the shadow stole.*
Silence fell like a shroud over the room.
“What does it mean?” Aria asked, her voice barely audible.
“It means you are not alone,” the Seer said. There are others—pieces of a greater puzzle. But it also means someone is coming for you. Someone already taken by the dark.
“Kael,” Aria whispered, the name like poison on her tongue.
The Seer said nothing, which was the enough answer.
“But why me?” Aria pressed. “Why would the shadows care about me?”
“Because you are the tether,” the Seer said. You hold the balance. And if that balance tips… the world will burn.
Aria stared at her hands. Hands that had once trembled with fear. Now they trembled with something else entirely—responsibility.
“But there’s hope,” the Seer added, surprising her. Hope rests in bonds forged through choice, not fate. The moon marks, but the soul decides.
Ronan stepped forward. “What do we do now?”
The Seer pointed toward Aria. “She must master her gifts. Find others. And prepare.”
“For what?” Aria asked.
“For war,” the Seer said, “because the darkness has already begun to move." And the first death will come sooner than you think.”
Aria felt the breath leave her lungs. The weight of destiny pressed against her chest like a boulder. But despite the fear, something inside her hardened.
She wouldn’t run.
Not anymore.
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- Writer
