Chapter 39
The Forgotten Prophecy
ACryptic Revelation
The night was quiet, the air thick with the scent of parchment and candle smoke as Seraphine poured over an ancient text inside the monastery's dimly lit library. The events of the past weeks had left her restless—though the rift had been closed, the world still trembled from its effects. Strange disturbances were being reported across Europe—unnatural storms, creatures from forgotten legends stirring, and whispers of dark omens.
Eldarath's magic was not gone. It was merely dormant, waiting for the right catalyst to awaken again.
Seraphine's fingers traced the delicate script of the prophecy she had discovered—a forgotten passage that had been overlooked for centuries. The words were faded, barely legible, but their meaning struck her like a dagger to the heart.
"And in the blood of the last shall the first be reborn. Through his lineage, the lost city shall rise or be sealed for eternity."
Seraphine's breath hitched.
The prophecy was never about just the fall of Eldarath. It was about what came after.
Alaric's sacrifice had saved the world, but his bloodline was the key to its future. If he had left behind a descendant, their existence could either resurrect Eldarath or prevent its return forever.
A cold chill ran down her spine.
"Alaric may have died, but if he had a child… then that child is the key."
The Search Begins; The moment the realization hit her, Seraphine gathered her companions.
Esmeria, Marek, and Elias sat across from her, their faces grim as they absorbed the weight of the discovery.
"Are you certain?" Marek asked, arms crossed. "We've been searching for a way to stop the cult, and now you're telling us we need to find Alaric's bloodline?"
"Not just find them," Seraphine corrected, "but protect them."
Esmeria frowned. "The Eternal Flame won't just sit back if they discover this. They will hunt Alaric's descendant and use them to bring Eldarath back."
"Exactly," Seraphine agreed. "We have to move quickly."
Elias exhaled sharply. "Do we even have a place to start? Alaric never spoke of having family."
Seraphine held up the old manuscript. "This prophecy was hidden for a reason. Someone didn't want the world to know about it. If we find out who concealed it, we might find our first lead."
Unraveling the Past; Their first destination was an ancient vault beneath the monastery—one that had been sealed off for centuries. If the prophecy had been hidden, it had to have been done by someone who feared its implications.
The vault was cold and damp, the scent of decay and dust filling the air as they descended the winding stone staircase. Marek lit a torch, its flickering light illuminating the intricate carvings on the walls—depictions of Eldarath's rise and fall.
At the center of the chamber lay a massive stone sarcophagus, untouched for generations.
Esmeria stepped forward, her hands glowing with magic as she dispelled the ancient wards guarding it. The seals shattered, the air crackling as a deep hum resonated through the chamber.
Seraphine and Marek pushed the lid aside.
Inside, beneath layers of dust and silk, lay a book bound in silver and emerald. Its cover bore the sigil of the Order of the Veil—a long-forgotten sect dedicated to guarding forbidden knowledge.
Seraphine carefully opened it, her heart pounding as she read the first lines.
"The truth of Alaric's legacy must remain hidden, lest the world be undone."
A Lost Heir; The text chronicled Alaric's final days—his preparations before the fall of Eldarath, the spells he cast to ensure its magic would never fall into the wrong hands. But most importantly, it revealed something the world had never known—
Alaric had a son.
A child born in secrecy, hidden away before the city's fall. His identity was erased, his lineage concealed. Only a handful of trusted allies had known the truth.
Seraphine's pulse quickened.
"If Alaric had a child, then their descendants could still be alive."
Esmeria's voice was hushed. "The prophecy was never lost… it was hidden to protect them."
But then realization dawned on them all.
If they had discovered this…
So could the Eternal Flame.
A Race Against Time; Without hesitation, Seraphine and her allies set out on their new mission.
The book offered little in the way of names, only vague references to an exiled noble family that had disappeared centuries ago. Their journey took them through ancient ruins, crumbling archives, and whispers in the underground magical world.
Everywhere they went, the pieces of the puzzle slowly came together.
A noble family that once ruled in southern France.
A lineage of warriors that fought in secrecy, preserving their bloodline.
And finally—
A name.
Tristan Vael.
A scholar. A mage. A man who had vanished nearly two decades ago, leaving behind only fragmented records.
The last known heir of Alaric.
The Eternal Flame Strikes; Before they could reach their destination, they encountered a devastating sight—
The village where Tristan had last been seen was in flames.
Bodies littered the streets. The air smelled of ash and death.
Seraphine's heart pounded. "No... we're too late."
Marek knelt beside a fallen villager, pressing his fingers to their throat. "Dead. No magic signature left."
Esmeria clenched her fists. "The cult was here."
A sudden rustling made them spin around, weapons drawn.
A lone figure stumbled from the shadows—a woman, bloodied and trembling.
Seraphine caught her as she collapsed. "Who did this?"
The woman's eyes fluttered open, her voice weak.
"They came for him... Tristan... took him... south..."
And then, she was gone.
Seraphine's grip tightened around the woman's lifeless form.
"They have him."
Marek cursed. "If they find out who he is—"
"They won't just find out," Seraphine cut in, her expression darkening. "They'll use him."
A Final Stand; With renewed urgency, they followed the cult's trail.
Through treacherous mountains and hidden pathways, they pursued the Eternal Flame, determined to rescue Tristan before it was too late.
As they neared the cult's stronghold, the sky darkened. The air grew thick with the scent of ancient magic.
Seraphine knew—
The battle for Alaric's legacy had only just begun.
And the fate of Eldarath hung in the balance.