THE PROPHECY CHILD

CHAPTER 13: The Temple

After a few hours of rest beneath the soft rustle of wind-kissed trees, the children gathered their strength and prepared to continue their journey. The forest around them whispered secrets with every breeze, thick vines swaying lazily as if watching them pass. Shafts of golden light pierced through the treetops, painting the earth in warm patches of sunlight.

According to the map, they were just a few kilometers away from the temple. Hope flickered in their hearts like candlelight.

Dalia stood tall before them, her cloak swaying gently in the breeze, her silver hair shimmering faintly in the sunlight. Her expression was grave, yet her eyes brimmed with warmth.

"I can't go with you any farther," she said, her voice calm but firm. "If I do, it will be easier for Diana to trace your steps."

Clara’s eyebrows pinched in concern. Eric shifted beside her, glancing at Dalia with uncertainty.

Dalia continued, "And Clara... be cautious with your powers. You haven’t mastered them, and that makes you vulnerable. But if the moment demands it—if your life depends on it—trust your reflection. Trust your mind. Trust your faith. They are your greatest teachers now."

Danielle stood quietly, her arms folded. She looked at Dalia, her eyes glistening with guilt.

"All of you must stick together," Dalia added, stepping back slowly. "No complaints. This is a strange world. As I was cloned, others could be too. Be wise. Be alert."

Clara nodded solemnly. "Thank you, Dalia. We'll see you again."

Danielle took a step forward. Her voice wavered. "I'm sorry... for what I said earlier."

Dalia smiled softly, her expression forgiving. "Farewell, children."

With a shimmer of golden light, she vanished.

Strong and refreshed, Clara, Danielle, and Eric stepped onto the winding path. The earth crunched beneath their boots as they walked. The air grew warmer. A strange stillness hung in the atmosphere.

"Four days until the full moon," Clara whispered, scanning the trees. "We have to make it."

But hope dimmed as they reached a fork in the road. The path split into seven winding routes, each leading into thick, thorny brush.

Clara groaned and clutched her head. "We’re already behind time. Can’t this world have mercy on us?"

Eric frowned, examining the paths. "What now?"

Danielle pointed to the map in Clara's hands. "What does it say?"

Clara spread it open. Her voice was tense. "There are no dimensions—just one curve. Simple and straight... But look around—this isn’t simple, and definitely not straight."

Danielle let out a chuckle and plopped to the ground. "Then we follow the bush."

Clara stared at her for a second, her brow furrowing. Then her eyes lit up. "Wait. You’re right. The only path that's curved and straight... is the bush."

Eric blinked, realization dawning. "That actually makes sense."

Danielle gave a mock bow. "Wow. You're welcome."

With renewed determination, they pushed through the thick brush. Thorns scratched their clothes, leaves clung to their hair, but the terrain began to change.

And then...

The temple rose before them.

Golden spires gleamed in the sunlight. Tall statues of ancient Nirabeth rulers stood like silent guardians, carved with such detail they seemed to breathe. Murals glowed faintly along the walls, capturing scenes of glory and ruin. The air pulsed with an ancient power that stirred the soul.

Meanwhile, not far from the temple, a group of shadowy figures stood on a cliff overlooking the valley. Diana narrowed her eyes. Her soldiers stood at attention behind her.

"That’s the temple," one of her men muttered.

"If they’re not inside, we’ll wait a day. If they are—we’ll strike," Diana said, her smirk cold and cruel.

Wings unfolded from their backs—shadowy, webbed extensions—and they took to the sky.

High above the clouds, Dalia hovered alone. She saw them and knew the truth: Clara and her friends were already inside. If Diana got there before the tablet chose Clara, all hope would vanish.

She soared toward them, wind tearing through her cloak.

Diana's eyes widened as Dalia appeared, radiant in golden light, standing firm before them.

Diana scowled. "Dalia? No... No, you were dead. We killed you."

Dalia laughed, her voice ringing with power. "How foolish of you to think I could be killed so easily."

Diana's expression shifted—shock, then realization. "Then Andrielle... is alive too."

"Why does that scare you so much, Diana?" Dalia asked, tilting her head with quiet menace.

Diana gritted her teeth. "Because it means this prophecy is real. And you—you’re here to stall us."

"Clever girl," Dalia smirked. Her eyes narrowed. "But not clever enough."

Their hands flared with magic. Sparks danced in the air. And in a flash, they clashed—magic exploding in a violent shockwave, shaking the heavens.

Meanwhile, Clara and the others stepped reverently into the golden sanctuary. The halls shimmered with celestial light, casting their reflections along the polished marble floor. Runes glowed faintly on the walls. The scent of incense lingered in the air, mixed with the faint warmth of sunlight pouring through colored glass.

They arrived at the heart of the temple. There, resting between the hands of a statue of a long-forgotten queen, was the golden tablet.

Clara’s breath caught. Her feet slowed. Doubt shadowed her face.

"Clara," Eric said, watching her. "You’re trembling."

She snapped out of her daze. "Sorry... What did you say?"

"I called your name three times," Eric said softly, stepping closer. "Look... I know you’re scared. You think if this tablet chooses you, all the responsibility will crush you. But if you are the prophecy child... then you’re powerful enough to save the world."

Clara lowered her eyes. Her fingers twitched at her sides.

"And if you’re not," Eric added, his voice calm, "then we’ll just go home. Together."

Danielle stepped forward. Her eyes met Clara’s. "Clara, what you should fear... is not being able to save the world."

Those words struck Clara like a wave.

She stared ahead. Slowly, she nodded. "If I’m the prophecy child... then there's still hope."

She looked at the pearl on her left palm, then at the golden tablet.

"It’s time," she whispered.

She stepped forward. Her hand hovered over the tablet, fingers trembling.

Silence.

And then—

Light erupted.

Blinding, pure, and overwhelming.

It surged across the land in a wave of brilliance. The trees outside glowed with reflected light. Far away, Queen Latesha looked up from her dark throne, eyes wide.

"The prophecy child..." she muttered, rising slowly.

Queen Andrielle smiled in her hidden sanctuary, tears in her eyes. "My child has come."

Dalia and Diana, locked in midair combat, froze as the light swept over them.

Diana’s mouth parted in shock. Her eyes blazed with rage. "You were stalling us!"

Dalia grinned. "Yes. And I succeeded."

Diana let out a snarl and darted toward the temple like a meteor.

Inside, the tablet slowly opened. Etched in glowing gold, the prophecy shimmered:

"And she shall yet come, and she shall exceed the power of the Gods and Goddesses, becoming the ultimate who shall save the world from the coming destruction."

Clara’s heart thundered. But there was no more fear.

There was only purpose.

A sudden sound cracked from the temple entrance. Heavy footsteps. Weapons drawn.

Eric turned sharply. "They’re here."

Clara didn’t flinch. She turned, eyes blazing with new light.

"Let’s face them," she said, stepping forward.

And behind her, the light of the prophecy burned brighter than ever.