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“I wish to find a way forward for Endre and me,”Liliana wished.
“I wish that Liliana would choose me above everyone else,”Endre wished.
“My wish is to be known as a great general after the war,”Viktor wished.
“I wish that my true love would make herself known so I can finally settle down,” Vadim wished.
“My wish is for some new pussy to show up at Steel,”Slavian wished.
“Please, Goddess, don’t let my friends die in the coming war,”Drazen wished.
“I wish that Ruslan would allow me to continue my experiments,”Rares wished.
“I wish that Atros would admit how he feels,”Anton wished.
“I wish that Kaztar would see Kazimir’s true side,”Domi wished.
“Goddess, please keep Domi safe in our home during the war. I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to her,”Kaztar wished.
“I wish that we could have peace,”Izidora wished.
“I have nothing to wish for, Goddess. You have granted me all I have asked for in my mate,”Ruslan said.
Closing my mind off from those around me, I opened my heart to my one and only wish.
“I wish for war.”
The High Priestess began chanting, a haunting melody that raised the hairs on my arms. The song speared into me, as if she'd sent a tendril of magic into each of us and pulled our heart’s desires straight from our chests. One by one, hands dropped away from lanterns, allowing them to float away. Reds, blues, greens, purples, and pinks in every shade and hue filled the sky, creating a rainbow of color among the stars.
But one black and one white lantern stood out amongst the colors. They raced toward the heavens, overtaking the onesreleased before them until they towered over us all. The crowd’s attention followed the two as they danced with one another through the sky, soaring higher and higher, seemingly propelled by magic. They peaked, pausing in midair and floating as if they were gazing down upon the world beneath them.
And then, everything fell into place.
The white lantern lit by white flame exploded with brightness, evoking cries of reverence and horror and forcing people to shield their eyes from the blinding light.
But I did not avert my gaze as Izidora’s lantern highlighted every detail in the Iron Realm and beyond, filling the land with white light.
Thoughts around me rang out with curses, but the ones closest to me were filled with realization as the finality of the prophecy settled across each and every noble Fae in attendance. There was no denying that Izidora was the prophesied one, and Ruslan along with her.
It truly was a tragedy that Izidora had wished for peace, because in the coming year, there would, without a doubt, be war.
Her eyes were as wide as the full moon as her focus bounced between the lanterns, Ruslan, and me, and neither of us bothered to hide the truth from her or each other. Ruslan and I locked eyes above her, and a slight dip in his chin told me he understood as well as I did what the blinding moment meant.
The Goddess’s Prophecy was coming to pass, and it was time for everyone to choose a side.
***
The magical history teacher droned on, and three young Night Fae propped their heads up with their hands in an attempt to stay awake. But one by one, they dropped to the table in front of them, their eyes drifting closed while their thoughts drifted to anything but the history of magic. Outside, the sun shone, spilling through the stained glass and onto the teacher’s desk, almost begging him to end the lecture so the younglings could stretch their wings and fly.
With a heavy sigh, he snapped his book shut, startling the three from their slumber. The messy-haired one woke first, rubbing the heels of his palms into his peridot eyes to clear them. Beside him, the emerald-eyed one yawned and performed a lazy overhead stretch, while the one on the end with the neatly-styled hair took his time rising, blinking wearily as the room refocused.
“This is my last day teaching you three before our summer break, and while I know you’d rather be out there learning to fight with swords, the lessons I am teaching you are important,” the teacher scolded. “One day, the lessons you learn in here could save your life. History tends to repeat itself, and moreoften than not, those who rise to power lose it in the same way as they gained it.”
“Yes, sir,” they grumbled in unison, straightening in their seats and blinking to clear the last fog of sleep.
“Good, now, during the Age of Prophecy, many with the sight had near-constant visions, some even dying from lack of sleep due to them. The most prophetic seers had round-the-clock observers waiting to scrawl down anything they said. As for the rest… well, there was so much chaos that many of those slips of paper were discarded as nonsense, never expected to come true. Scholars have tracked events that unfolded exactly as prophesied in the centuries since, and only a few viable candidates remain out of the hundreds of slips still in existence. Many have been tossed out as events unfolded differently or the world changed enough that their predictions were irrelevant. Of those unfulfilled prophecies, magical historians believe only three will ever come to pass: the Goddess’s Prophecy, the Five Brothers, and the Torn Veil.”
The youngling with the peridot eyes interrupted the teacher. “Why only those three?”
