Nyssa stared at the dagger in her palm, its silver blade catching the dim light. The weight of it sent a shiver through her bones.
"You must be willing to die for it."
The words echoed in her mind, a cruel demand disguised as wisdom.
Caelan stepped between her and the Order's leader, his body tense with fury. "You think I would allow this?" His voice was deadly quiet.
The leader remained unfazed. "You misunderstand, Prince. This is not a matter of permission. It is a law written into the very fabric of fate."
Nyssa gripped the dagger tighter. "And what happens if I refuse?"
The leader's silver eyes glowed eerily. "Then the vision will come to pass. Omala will burn. The prince will fall."
A sharp pain twisted in Nyssa's chest. The image of Caelan on his knees, his blood staining the ground, was still fresh in her mind.
But to stop it… she had to die?
Caelan turned to her, his gaze fierce. "Nyssa, don't listen to them." His hands closed over hers, prying the dagger away. "No prophecy is worth your life."
The leader let out a slow sigh. "Love is such a foolish thing."
Nyssa's heart pounded. Was this love? This unwillingness to see him suffer?
She lifted her chin. "There has to be another way."
For the first time, the leader hesitated.
Caelan caught it. "There is, isn't there?"
The masked figure remained silent.
Nyssa pushed forward. "Tell us."
A long pause. Then—a whisper of truth.
"The prophecy is not about your death, Seer."
Nyssa's breath caught. "Then what is it about?"
The leader leaned in, voice barely above a murmur. "Your rebirth."
A cold chill raced down Nyssa's spine.
Caelan's grip on her tightened. "What does that mean?"
The leader stepped back. "That is for you to discover. But be warned—rebirth always comes at a cost."
A heavy silence settled between them.
Then, without another word, the leader turned and disappeared into the shadows. One by one, the masked figures followed, vanishing into the darkness.
Nyssa and Caelan were left standing alone in the abandoned ruins.
She exhaled shakily. "I don't want to die, Caelan."
His hand cupped her face, his gaze fierce and unwavering. "And I won't let you."
But deep down, Nyssa knew—fate had already chosen its price.
And soon, she would have to pay it.