THE PROPHECY CHILD

CHAPTER 15: Betty

The sun dipped low behind a canopy of whispering trees, casting golden streaks across the narrow path as Clara, Danielle, and Eric wandered into a secluded valley. It was unlike any other place they'd encountered. Nestled between the hills, the village stood quiet and untouched by magic — peaceful in a world filled with chaos.

That stillness wrapped around them like a blanket. Crickets chirped in the distance. A slow wind rustled through tall grasses. The cottages were built from earth-toned bricks and covered in climbing ivy, their thatched roofs crooked but charming. Smoke rose gently from chimneys, and the faint sound of humming drifted through the air — sweet and haunting.

Clara narrowed her eyes. "This... doesn't feel like the magic world at all."

Eric stepped forward, brushing his fingers along a wooden fence. "I think I’ve read about this place," he said thoughtfully. "It’s a hidden village. Some people from Earth escaped here, sacrificing their voices to avoid detection by Latisha’s forces."

Danielle dropped to her knees under a gnarled tree, brushing dust from her leggings. "It's safe. Let’s rest a while." She exhaled deeply, the fatigue from their journey etched in the corners of her eyes.

They sat together in silence, their breathing shallow, shoulders slumped with exhaustion. Birds circled lazily overhead.

"What a strange, absurd place," Danielle muttered, lifting her head and squinting toward a nearby well. Then she suddenly froze. Her finger shot out. "Is that… Betty? Or are my weary eyes playing tricks on me?"

Clara and Eric turned. A girl stood across the square — older now, thinner, with tangled curls hanging past her shoulders. Her eyes widened with fear the moment she saw them.

"Unbelievable," Eric breathed.

Before they could speak, Betty bolted.

Without thinking, Clara leapt to her feet and chased after her, dodging through startled villagers. The world blurred past her in streaks of brown and green. She wanted to summon magic to stop Betty — to reach out and freeze her mid-run — but hesitated. Her power was too strong, too unpredictable. The last thing she wanted was to hurt her.

She ran faster.

Betty turned a corner, but Clara was quicker. She lunged and caught her wrist, both girls tumbling gently to the grass. Betty flailed, her face wild with confusion.

"Why are you so scared? I thought you’d fight everyone!" Clara asked breathlessly, gripping her shoulders.

Betty's lips parted, but no sound emerged. She only shook her head frantically.

Clara’s brows furrowed. "Wait... you can’t speak?"

Betty nodded.

"You’re mute?" Clara asked again. Another nod.

Clara hesitated, heart pounding. Her hand trembled as she raised it to Betty’s chin. She remembered what Dalia once told her: your faith, your instincts, and your reflection were her guides. Slowly, Clara touched Betty’s lips.

A pulse of light flowed from her fingers down Betty’s throat like golden threads weaving through her. Betty gasped. She clutched her neck — and then whispered:

"So good magic still exists."

Clara let out a sigh of awe and exhaustion.

Just then, Danielle caught up, hands on her hips, glaring. Her voice was sharp with restrained anger. "When did you become so calm and timid?"

Betty looked up, puzzled. "When was I ever brave and courageous?"

Her voice, now working, sounded gentle — almost unsure of itself. Clara watched as pain flickered through Danielle’s expression.

Eric stepped in, trying to ease the tension. "What brought you here, Betty?"

Betty sat on a rock nearby, pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders. Her eyes turned distant. "I’ve been here since I was a child. I don’t even know my parents. This village… it’s the only place I’ve ever known."

Eric turned to Clara and Danielle, voice low and thoughtful. "I think I understand. Betty might’ve been cloned from Neathermore — like many of the people here. Maybe they think they’re dead, or maybe they were made to forget."

All around them, villagers began to gather. Men and women, many of them silent, nodded in quiet agreement. Some placed hands on their throats, gesturing their stories. Their eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

Danielle blinked slowly, realization dawning. "This is crazy..."

Betty turned back to Clara, desperation coloring her voice. "Can you restore us? Can you return us to our families like you restored me?"

Clara’s lips tightened. Her gaze dropped to her palms. "Not yet. I don’t have full control over my powers. I’m scared I might hurt someone by mistake. But after this war — after we win — I promise I’ll come back. I’ll help you all. Just… stay hidden and stay safe."

That night, the stars hung like frozen snowflakes in the velvet sky. Clara, Danielle, and Eric stayed with the villagers. Despite the absence of voices, joy bloomed around flickering fires. They danced, clapped, and played haunting melodies on wooden flutes and stringed instruments — songs that vibrated through the soul.

Clara laughed, heart light for the first time in what felt like years. Even Danielle smiled, and Eric found himself humming along.

But the peace didn’t last.

A shrill horn echoed through the valley — deep, ominous, and sharp as a blade. It sliced through the celebration like lightning.

Screams followed.

Villagers scattered, grabbing makeshift weapons. Children were rushed into underground cellars. Clara darted to the doorway of the hut, eyes wide.

"What’s happening?" she asked, breath catching in her throat.

Betty was already helping usher children to safety. Her voice shook. "They’re here. Monsters. From Neathermore. They attack every night. We try to fight, but every day… hundreds of us die. You should stay inside. If they see you, it’s over."

Clara pressed her palm to the windowpane. Outside, dark shapes slithered across the village. Creatures taller than men, hunched and twisted, with spines like ridges of bone and eyes glowing red. They moved fast — too fast — lunging through the air with claws outstretched.

Clara’s stomach clenched.

Men were pulled into the shadows, women screamed, and fires lit up the sky. Despite the courage in their hearts, the villagers stood no chance. The monsters tore through them like paper.

Clara’s hand reached for the door… then froze.

Her chest rose and fell with agony. Her fingers twitched. She felt the storm of power building inside her — but she held back.

What if I hurt them? she thought. What if I lose control?

She stepped back from the window, trembling. Then she clenched her jaw.

Tears rimmed her eyes. The battle raged on. And Clara watched.