Gloria
The problem with prophecies was not that they foretold the future.
It was that people *believed* them.
Belief was far more dangerous than fate.
By midday, the Obsidian territory felt different, like the land itself was holding its breath. Wolves moved with purpose, but their eyes followed me more than they should have. Whispers slipped through corridors, hushed and reverent, carrying my name like a secret prayer.
Golden Luna.
I hated it.
I stood at the window of the eastern tower, watching patrols rotate through the outer perimeter. Epoch had doubled the guards without argument. He hadn’t said it outright, but I knew what he was thinking.
If rogues knew… the Council would know soon.
And the Council never reacted calmly to things it couldn’t control.
Vanya stirred uneasily
