BEARER OF ECHOES
They called me Oracle. Prophet. Madwoman.
But I was only a voice—one chosen to speak what others feared to hear. My name has been forgotten, erased from the stones and stories. That was always the way. The bearer remembers, and then the bearer is no more. But the flame, the darkness—they linger.
It happened five hundred years ago, though time folds strangely for those like me. I remember the day clearly. The sky outside was dark with ash. Smoke curled into the temple like fingers reaching to silence the truth. The fires crackled low, and even the elders dared not breathe too loudly.
The vision had come like lightning in my mind—burning, blinding. For days, I couldn't speak. I couldn't sleep. I drank nothing, ate nothing. The fire inside was too loud.
When the time came, I stood before them—nobles, warriors, elders of flame and fang—and opened my mouth. What came forth wasn't mine. It never was.
The flame shall be born among the forgotten, her name buried beneath dust and time.
The darkness, old as blood, will seek her—not to destroy, but to claim.
If he bends, the throne will rise in fire.
If he breaks, the kingdom will fall in ash.
One must choose, and the other must burn.
Together, they will unmake the curse... or become it.
The silence that followed was the kind that settles into bone. They didn't understand—not fully. But fear is often stronger than understanding.
They wrote it down. Hid it deep. Whispered about it only in the most desperate moments. But I remember every word. Because I still bear the echo of that fire.
Now, even through the veil of time, I feel it again. The tremble in the mountain. The stirring in the dark. The human girl has stepped into the realm of the demons and the prince—he's already moved closer to the edge than they know.
They think this is lust. Curiosity. Rebellion.
But I know better.
I see the shape of fate like a flame curling toward dry timber. It's only a matter of time. The story is moving, shifting, becoming.
They are changing everything.
And the ending will not be written in ink.
It will be written in fire.