Vaticinia Caelorum- The Prophecy That Destroyed The Heavens

Master Aeron had spoken with the kind of finality that left no room for questioning. "Rest," he said, "for the dawn will not wait."

He hadn't told them how they'd be leaving. Not where the path would start, or what exactly they were stepping into. Only that they must go. And that they were ready.

Except none of them truly felt ready.

They were taken to the guest chambers—quiet, elegant, oddly specific. The corridor they walked through hummed with the echo of old magic, the kind that didn't need to be loud to be powerful. Serenya noticed the small blue orbs floating along the ceiling, lighting the hall with a soft glow. The floors beneath them shifted colors subtly, like the clouds outside were flowing under their feet.

When they entered the room, it was clear that it had been prepared just for them. Three beds. Just three.

Lyara smiled faintly. "The beds are really soft."

She laid down immediately, her long braid fanned out across the pillow. Riven followed, sinking onto his bed with a tired sigh. His arms were folded under his head, his eyes focused on the wooden ceiling above them.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Seems like everything here is… enchanted."

Serenya didn't say anything at first. She moved slowly to her own bed, letting her fingers trace the embroidery on the blanket. She was tired, bone-tired, but her thoughts were spinning too fast. It was one thing to read about the legends. To dream of magic and quests and great wars. It was another thing to be living inside one.

As a child, she had been enchanted by stories of wielders who descended into the Middle Earth in search of purpose, of secrets buried beneath the stars. Her father used to tell her and Kael those stories every night before bed, his voice full of wonder, his eyes twinkling with mystery. She used to imagine herself as one of those wanderers, cloak flapping in the wind, saving kingdoms and finding meaning.

Now… now those same stories filled her with dread. With too many unanswered questions. With a quiet, gnawing fear of what waited below.

There was silence in the room. Not an awkward silence—but the kind that knows exactly what you're feeling. The kind that understands that no words could possibly undo the weight pressing on your heart.

Serenya stared at the ceiling for a long time before finally whispering, "Do you think I'll be able to do it… whatever they expect from me?"

Her voice cracked mid-sentence. She looked toward them—not as the Infante, not as the girl with lightning in her blood—but just Serenya. The girl who didn't know how to carry everything alone anymore.

Riven sat up first. Lyara crossed the room without a word and sat on the edge of Serenya's bed. Her fingers slipped gently into Serenya's hand.

"We don't know what they expect from you, or from us," Lyara said softly, "but we'll figure it out. Together. That's the only thing I'm sure of."

She smiled, her eyes glassy but steady. "The prophecy doesn't stand a chance with all three of us against it."

Riven came over too, resting a hand lightly on Serenya's shoulder. "We believe in you. And we believe in ourselves. That's enough, Sere. We're going to find out what all of this means. Even if the whole sky is burning."

His voice was firm. Determined. The kind of voice that made you believe the world could still be fixed.

For a few moments, they just sat like that. Three hands woven together.

Then Riven suddenly lit up. "Let's open the bag. The one Vaelina gave me."

Serenya sat up straighter, curiosity washing over her like a wave. "Yes," she said, "let's see what we've been given."

The bag was light in Riven's hands. Soft to the touch. It almost hummed. As he loosened the tie and opened it, a shimmer of golden light poured out, but vanished before it touched the air. Inside were three books—leather-bound, old, beautiful. Each with a different emblem etched on the front.

Riven pulled out the first one—dark blue with silver lines that moved like waves.

"This is mine," Lyara whispered. She took it from his hands like it was sacred. "It's… calling to me."

The next was storm grey with a pattern of arcs and runes that looked like flashes of lightning, overlapping with teleportation sigils. Apparition theory.

Riven clutched it instantly. "This… my father once told me about this book. The Hidden Steps. It was thought to be lost. It has techniques no one remembers anymore."

The third book was thicker than the others. Bound in deep plum leather with golden rings on its spine. The emblem on the cover was a cloud breaking apart.

Serenya's heart skipped. "The History of Aetheria."

Her fingers brushed over the title like it might burn her. But it didn't. It felt cool. Comforting.

All three of them curled into their beds, diving into the pages like their lives depended on it. And maybe, in some way, they did.

Lyara gasped audibly within minutes. "Sere, I'm reading about water-weaving. Not just control—but infusion. There are techniques here that blend intuition and defense. Things I didn't even think were possible."

Her eyes were wide. The book seemed to be responding to her thoughts, its pages turning themselves when she needed it most.

Riven was quiet for a long time before saying, "This book talks about… appariting to Middle Earth. It's real. It's possible. Dangerous, but possible. Is that what Aeron meant?"

He looked over to them both. "Is that how we're going to go?"

Serenya didn't answer right away. She was deep in her own book, her hands trembling as she read the first few chapters. The true origins of Aetheria. The creation of the Skyline. The early wielders. And then…

Mentions of the Vaticinia Caelorum.

Barely a few lines. But they were there. Enough to make her sit upright. Her blood was humming.

"We'll only know in the morning," she finally said. "But… I think you're right, Riv. I think these books are our map now."

Sleep came quietly after that.

As if some spell had blanketed the room in softness. Serenya lay curled on her bed, the history book resting on her chest. Her eyes heavy. Lyara was already dozing, one arm around her book like a child with a beloved toy. Riven stayed up the longest—still flipping through pages, still whispering incantations under his breath.

Then even he gave in.

Silence. Warmth. A moment of peace.

Until—

"Wake up, children."

Vaelina's voice filtered into the room, bright and calm.

"The sun has risen. And your breakfast is ready. You'll need your strength today."

Serenya sat up, blinking at the sunlight spilling in through the crystalline windows. Her stomach twisted. Excitement. Fear. Purpose.

Today… they would leave.

And nothing would ever be the same again.