Vaticinia Caelorum- The Prophecy That Destroyed The Heavens

Serenya ran.

The corridors of the sky palace blurred around her—arches splintered, tapestries in flames, marble cracked like brittle bones. Her lungs burned, but not from the sprint. Something deeper. Older.

She reached The Supreme One's Chambers—the sanctuary of her mother, the Queen of the Heavens. Her heart stammered. The door was ajar, and everything inside was wrong.

The chamber, once ethereal and impossibly pristine, now lay in ruin. Gowns of the Gods—woven from celestial mist and the threads of stars—were scattered across the floor, torn and dirtied. The mirrors were shattered. The golden stand that held her mother's ceremonial diadem had toppled over; the crown lay cracked in two.

Serenya stood in the doorway, chest heaving. But her eyes found what she came for.

The closet.

She stepped inside. It was her first time truly entering her mother's private space. It smelled of lavender and charged air, like rain just before a storm. Gowns hung in limp defeat, some sliced cleanly, others burned at the hem. Even the glass boxes holding relics—silver gloves, stormstone earrings, the robes of previous Supreme Mothers—were shattered.

But Serenya stood still.

Her hand brushed the edge of the closet wall, and she closed her eyes.

"If something ever happens... if you feel unsafe, and I am not here... go to my chambers. Behind the closet, there's a doorway. It will only open when you remember me. You'll find me there."

She repeated the words again. And again. Not aloud, but in her mind. Her mother's voice, soft as mist, firm as thunder.

"You'll find me there."

She waited.

The doubt crept in like smoke: What if I made it up? What if I only imagined those words as a frightened child craving comfort?

Then—Click.

A low, groaning shift in the stone behind the gowns.

The back wall shuddered.

And then, slowly, an opening revealed itself. A passage, black as a dead star.

Serenya exhaled.

She wasn't imagining. It was real. Her mother knew this would happen.

She stepped through the narrow gap, the smell of age and quiet pressing in around her. The stone sealed behind her, shutting out what was left of the broken royal chamber.

Darkness.Total.

No floor beneath her feet. No ceiling overhead. Just... nothing.

Then—

A whisper.

"Infante is supposed to be polite, Serenya!" her mother's chiding tone—echoed from a memory.

"I'll always be here, Sere," came Riven's soft, boyish voice.

"I'll teach you, but don't tell Mother," Kael—grinning like a fool.

"Let's play now, little star," her father's laughter from years ago.

"Don't let their voices drown out your own, Sere," Lyara's voice, tight with tears.

Her breath quickened. "Stop it. Stop it."

"It's okay, Sere. It's okay."

Riven's voice again. This time... real? Not real?

The darkness pulsed.

And then—everything stopped.

Light.

Soft. Pale. The soft white glow of the moon mixed with the glow of the clouds.

She was back in her palace. Or... a memory of it. Whole. Unshattered. Peaceful.

She blinked.

Before her—Riven. Fifteen. Younger. Softer. Sitting on the edge of her bed. He was holding her hand. And there she was too. A fifteen-year-old Serenya, hunched over, tear-stained.

She stepped closer. They couldn't see her.

"I'm sure he didn't mean it," Riven was saying. "You're trying."

"Yes, but it's not enough," younger Serenya replied, frustrated. "Why can't I do what he does? Why can't I be as good as Kael?"

There was silence for a moment. Then—

"Maybe the problem," Riven said, looking directly at her, "isn't that you're not good enough. It's that you're trying to be him. But the greatest wielders—of storm, wind, water, anything—they don't become someone else. They find themselves."

Young Serenya didn't speak.

"I believe in you," he added. "You just have to believe in your way."

She looked up at him then. A faint smile on her lips.

"You'll help me then?" she asked.

"Always," he said. That smile—the purest she'd ever seen on him—glowed.

Serenya's chest twisted. Even at 18. That moment had changed everything, even if she hadn't known it then.

And then—

The room dissolved.

And she was standing in white. Pure. Infinite. Cloud and light.

And then there she was.

The Supreme Mother of Aetheria.

Still. Serene. Wearing the same flowing silver-white gown from the duel. Her crown intact. Her expression unreadable.

"Mother?"

The Queen smiled faintly.

"Before you begin," she said, her voice soft but cutting, "know that I cannot answer all your questions. I won't be able to."

Serenya nodded, swallowing the emotion building behind her ribs. "What happened at the palace?"

A long silence. The clouds moved behind them like silent waves.

"My enemies," her mother said finally. "A secret society. One that I once formed myself. A group I thought I could control. I was wrong."

Serenya blinked. "You... formed them?"

"In another life," the Supreme Mother replied. "When I was still naive enough to believe I could change everything without consequence. Now... we pay the price. They've turned against me."

Serenya felt a sick weight settling in her stomach.

"But no one knew," she whispered. "No one knew about a secret society. You've always said Aetheria was—"

"What I said, and what I knew, are not always the same."

Lightning cracked faintly somewhere behind the clouds.

Her mother stepped forward, her eyes finally softening. "Kael is safe. So is your father. The others have gone into hiding. But you—you must leave."

"Leave?" Serenya's voice trembled. "To where?"

"To Middle Earth."

The words hit her like a wind blast to the chest.

"You must go to the world below," the Supreme Mother said. "Take what is most dear to you and protect it. You will find answers there. And truths you will not like. But you must go."

"Why me?" Serenya's voice cracked. "Why, mother?"

Her mother touched her face—warm, strong. "Wish I could say, Sere, but you'll know soon enough."

Her breath caught in her throat.

"I believe in you," the Queen whispered. "More than I ever dared believe in anyone. It has begun."

The clouds rose.

The light faded.

And Serenya gasped.

She was back—in the closet.

She stumbled forward, nearly falling, catching herself on the gown rack. The broken crowns and robes of her mother surrounded her again.

But something had changed.

"Take what is most dear to you…"

Her heart stilled.

She knew exactly what she had to do.