Rhivahnoe Book 1 Wrestling with Prophecy
an excerpt

This hallway was looking familiar. The stone floor was cold under her bare feet. She took in her surroundings with scrutiny, noting how familiar it was all feeling. It had to be that odd castle again—the one she had been visiting in her dreams recently. Every time she found herself here, the place felt more and more familiar.
Ancient and ornate artifacts decorated the walls. Everything from old swords, shields, gauntlets, spears, tapestries and ancient portraits of royalty long-gone hung in silent majesty. Every ten feet an ornate sconce held a burning torch that flared to life as soon as she got in range. It threw light that reflected merrily off of ornate vases, mirrors and frames and the occasional suit of armor. The flickering flames illuminated tapestries, casting ghostly shadows, almost making them seem alive as they gently and soundlessly swayed on some unseen current of air.
Elora gave a small sigh of frustration. This dream seemed to get more and more real every time as she was getting her bearings and paused to stare at a particular tapestry that always seemed to catch her attention.
It appeared to be only a piece of a much larger tapestry by the way the edges looked unfinished and frayed, but it was a life-sized portrait of a woman warrior who wore gold armor that was adorned with a silver rampant gryphon on the chest plate. In her right hand, she held a short sword. In her left, she was holding a spiraled, gold scepter that she held high over her head. Her dark eyes looking heavenward and her dark hair flying in some unseen wind, her mouth was open in a great cry as if she were trying to rally others to her cause.
Elora found herself studying it again, as if looking very hard for some kind of detail she may have missed from before. She noticed that the warrior was not alone as there appeared to be some kind of ancient battle going on in the background.
Elora found herself yanked from her reverie as an unnatural flash of light caught the corner of her eye. She turned just in time to see what looked like some strange orb of light turn the corner at the end of the hall, twinkling and dancing, it’s flashing dance of light seeming to laugh, or maybe to mock, beckoning.
Elora was moving her feet toward it, faster and faster, chasing it down the corridor, always just out of her reach. This was something new. She willed herself to go faster, but no matter how hard she tried, the orb remained just out of reach.
They turned another corner and with a strange surge of elation, Elora could see that the orb was trapped between her and the dead end where a tall, ornate mirror hung. The orb still did not slow down, continuing its merry chase, still twinkling and glinting at her and went straight into the mirror, where it suddenly became stationery just beyond the glass. Elora watched with fascination as the orb grew and stretched and seemed to take on a new shape.
Elora’s own reflection disappeared and a woman was now reflected there in the mirror. This woman was richly dressed in a gold and white gown. Her blue eyes had a jewel-like quality to them. Her platinum blond hair was blowing about her in some ethereal wind and she still retained the glow that the orb had shown.
She didn’t say anything, but stared down at Elora with an almost curious look to her regal face. She wordlessly searched Elora’s eyes as if looking for some spark of recognition, but found none. Elora was gazing back upon her with open curiosity. This woman was obviously some kind of royalty, or some high-ranking official of some kind. She looked very familiar, but still, the spark of recognition eluded her. The woman looked as if she wanted to speak, but still, no words came.
Elora suddenly realized that she was dressed in her night-things and pulled her little robe around herself as tight as she could, as if warding off a chill. She decided to voice her questions now, but before she could find her tongue to speak, the apparition had vanished to reveal only her own reflection staring back at her, only there was something different. She wasn’t in her usual night-things anymore, but her day wear. Her usually long, dark hair was short. Those were her green eyes, she was sure, but at the same time, they weren’t quite her eyes. She raised a hand to reach out to touch the mirror, as did her reflection, but just before their fingers met, a long, drawn out cry could be heard echoing throughout the halls, and the next thing she knew, she found herself suddenly falling forward through the mirror, feeling as if she had been subjected to terribly cold water and found with her next gasp that she was sitting up in a tangle of blankets on her own floor beside her own bed at home again.
Elora quickly got her bearings again and gently began to pick herself up again with a sigh. She rubbed her temples as she struggled to hang onto the last vestiges of her dream, but as usual, she found the visions slipping away. Her hand strayed to her throat to feel for the medallion she wore around her neck and was surprised to find that it was ice-cold to her touch and yet it sat warmly against her skin.
She gave a deep sigh of weariness mixed with frustration. She tried to catalog her other feelings and couldn’t explain to herself why her emotions were suddenly high. It was as if she were experiencing a sense of loss. She sighed again as if to catch her breath.
“Elora, are you alright?” a groggy and muffled voice asked through the door.
“I’m okay,” Elora replied as she crawled back into bed again. “Just dreaming again.”
“Are you sure?” the voice asked now. “You were making strange noises.”
“Well, whatever it was, I’m fine now,” Elora replied as she pulled the covers up over her head.
“Good night, then,” the voice replied and the shuffling of feet could be heard going away from the door.
“Good night, Ma’am,” she replied into her pillow. She tossed and turned to try and get comfortable again, but sleep wasn’t returning and wouldn’t be anytime soon. No matter what she did, she found that she was no longer tired.
With another sigh of frustration she reached for her candle on her bedside table and stepped out to the kitchen to find a live ember to light it with. Once she had a good flame, she returned to her room, locked the door and sat down in front of the vanity mirror she used in the mornings.
The last vision in her dream was one she could not get out of her head. It was her reflection, yet it was not. Her reflection had short hair. Those were here eyes staring back, but there was something different. The facial features seemed almost masculine. Elora stared harder, almost as if trying to will the image in the mirror to change. She lifted her hand and reached out to touch the glass, but the cold surface was all that met her fingers.
She sighed again and picked up the candle. She set it back down on the bedside table before blowing it back out again. She climbed back into bed and tried to let tired and fatigue take back over again, but it was slow in coming. The next thing she knew, the cock was crowing and there was movement in the kitchen as Ma and Pa were getting ready for another day.
She slowly fell out of bed this time, taking in breakfast smells. There were eggs, bacon and sweetened flat cakes along with coffee and cornbread already baking.
Elora slowly pulled on her stockings and her pants. She took her time in tucking in her shirt and then lingered even more as she pulled on her boots. She took another glance in the mirror, took a moment to fix her hair into a simple ponytail at the nape of her neck and smoothed out the little wisps. She sighed again at her reflection before leaving the room.
“Good morning,” Elora greeted with a yawn. She swung the door to make sure it closed and jumped nearly three feet as the latch caught and the whole door closed with a resounding SLAM!
“I’m awake!” she yelped. She looked the door over and was horrified to find that the hinges had come out of alignment and that the knob was sitting at an odd angle. She was not aware that she had given the door that powerful of a shove. That was the second door in three days.
“Elora! Are you alright?” Pa asked. He came to see what had happened. She was standing there with a pained look on her face.
“I’m sorry, I—” she began.
“Again?” he sighed. “Well, don’t worry about it. I’ll fix it. Go get some breakfast.”
Elora headed over to the kitchen table and very gingerly pulled out a chair and sat in it as if it were made of straw and could collapse under her mere weight. She gingerly picked at things that were already spread over the table, helping herself to the bacon and went to scoop the eggs onto her plate. She gave the spoon with the eggs on it a little shake to dislodge the eggs stuck to it and froze as the spoon hit the dish with a smack! followed by an instantaneous crack!
Elora had her eyes shut tight and she very slowly opened them again to see that the spoon had hit the plate hard enough to where it had split the plate in two. As if the spoon were made of fine spun glass, she carefully put the spoon back with the eggs, folded her hands, put them in her lap and stared down at them. This was also the third plate in so many days. Ma had stopped in what she was doing with the cornbread and simply stared.
“I don’t understand it,” Elora murmured. “I’m not doing anything different.” She reached up to the medallion around her neck and began to absent-mindedly fiddle with it, rubbing it with force beneath her thumb until she jerked away with a bloody thumb that was instantly seeking relief in her mouth.
“Ow,” she said dully. Ma was still staring.
“Elora, I think it’s time you had a visit with Brother Preasl at the church today,” Pa said gently. Ma’s eyes went wide.
“Do you think it necessary?” she asked, fear evident in her face. Elora was puzzled.
“I take her myself,” he said with finality. Elora suddenly felt frightened. Why in the world would she need to see Brother Preasl? It wasn’t confession time. Was this freak thing with her not knowing her own strength some kind of illness? Would it be an omen of bad crops or bad weather, or something?
Elora carefully picked her way around her broken plate and finished her breakfast in silence. Pa was ready to go. Ma handed him his bundle containing his lunch, a canteen of water, his lantern for entering the mine and he reached for his pickax. With an odd look on his face, he set it back down again between Elora and himself and leaned the handle towards her.
“See if you can lift it,” he said. Elora looked at him. With the way things had been going over the last few days, it was possible that she could snap the handle like a toothpick. She reached both hands out until they lightly held the handle. She stared hard at it, silently willing it not to break beneath her touch. Pa gave her an encouraging nod.
Elora took a deep breath to steady herself and gently lifted the heavy mining tool and brought it to rest across her shoulders, making it look as if it were feather-light as she did so. Both Pa and Ma were staring hard. Ma looked terrified and Pa looked happily surprised as she unseated the pickaxe and gently lowered it to the floor again. She let out a breath of relief that the tool was still in one piece.
“Very good,” Pa said appreciatively. “Let’s go then.” Elora let Pa take his tool back and she silently followed him out the door.
Pa paused at the water pump at the edge of the front yard to clean up before going on. Elora suddenly had a feeling of being watched. She scanned the tree line around them but could not see anyone there. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She looked around a second time, still saw no one, and the feeling of being watched was gone as sudden as it came on. Pa finished cleaning up, apparently unaware of Elora’s moment of apprehension. He hefted his pickaxe over his shoulder and they went on their way.
Elora stayed in thoughtful silence, figuring that it would be best to stay her tongue. The only reason for going to see Brother Preasl on a day other than the day of rest, was to get answers. If it was to get answers, then it was answers that Pa did not have, so asking questions would be a moot point.
They walked along the road in silence. They passed houses and fields that seemed to have come to life with the light of the sun. As they reached the village, it was already teeming with life and the marketplace was already a center of ordered chaos. People barely looked them over as they passed through, ignoring the calls of the sellers.
Elora stuck close to Pa as they made their way to the other side of the marketplace. It was then a matter of making their way against the flow of the crowd coming into market and then to get to the little church that stood close to the center of the village.
Elora felt an odd feeling take hold of her as she entered the church behind Pa. It felt odd to be here during the week as opposed to the usual day of rest.
The little church felt cold and dark and uninviting as they stepped inside. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness, lit only by a candle here and there. The rows of pews stood empty and the pulpit stood dark. Pa dropped a coin into the box where it fell to the bottom with a loud clunk! A hooded figure immediate came into view at the sound.
“And how can I help you, my child?” an old, wizened voice asked from underneath the cloth.
“We’d like to see Brother Preasl. Is he here?” Pa asked with a slight tremor in his voice. It was clear that being in the church was making him nervous as well, but he did an excellent job at not showing it.
“Brother Preasl, you say? Yes, he is here. I am Brother Pajd. Please do sit down. I shall go and fetch him here,” he made a little bow and quickly left in something of a hurry and nearly took an unlit candelabrum with him on his way out the nearest door. He hastily put it back to rights and continued on his way. Both Elora and her father were looking after the monk in stunned silence, but said nothing. They did as instructed and took a seat.
Elora took the time to study her surroundings, taking note of the intricately carved figures of the Roc that were placed prominently around the room. The Roc was the local deity of Palanyea, and was said to be what had created Palanyea in the first place. It was rumored that the Roc himself resided far beneath Castle Narmoneth in the southern parts of Palanyea, protecting a wondrous magic called Roc’s Fire.
Elora shuddered as if to ward off a chill. She did not feel safe or at home at all in the little church. In fact, while she could not explain why, she felt as if she was not made welcome by the Roc as he stared down at her from various parts of the church. She was feeling distinctly uncomfortable. Suddenly, Brother Pajd burst through the door again, followed closely behind by another monk who nearly collided with him.
“Thank you, Brother. I’ll take things from here,” the new arrival said in a soft, controlled voice. Brother Pajd bowed and quickly exited again.
“I am Brother Preasl,” he introduced himself and removed his hood to reveal an old man whose hair was gray and thinning. His silvery moustache was bushy and hid his face from below his nose, but his dark eyes seemed to belie his age, as they looked sharp and young. He was looking hard at Elora now, giving her a very thorough, scrutinizing look.
“Thank you for taking the time to see us on short notice, Brother,” Elora’s father began.
“The niceties can wait,” Brother Preasl lifted his hand. “Follow me. We must talk in private.” He instantly made his way out again with Elora and her father following close at his heels. Elora felt even more uncomfortable at Brother Preasl’s urgent manner and her misgiving seemed to grow as they were led through a courtyard and into a much older part of the monastery. It wasn’t until they were in a small room with only one small window and lit only by a single candle and the door locked behind them.
“You’ll have to forgive the abruptness of it all, my dear. It’s best that we keep this matter as private as possible. The less people know, the better,” Brother Preasl began. “You’ve grown up well, Elora.”
Elora didn’t seem to be impressed in the slightest. She stood back with her arms crossed in clear frustration.
“What is this?” she asked, clearly peeved with all the sudden secrecy.
“I can explain it, my child, but first, I need you to calm down,” Brother Preasl began.
“Calm down?--!” Elora began and held her tongue, knowing that it would be a form of blasphemy to give a monk a tongue-lashing.
“Let’s see…” Brother Preasl pulled a small chest out from under a table and unlocked it. “You’ve reached your thirteenth year, am I correct?”
“Yes,” Elora said calmly, although she wasn’t feeling it yet.
“You’ve experienced changes recently. Strength you didn’t know you even had. You heal from simple cuts faster than usual,” he began going through the contents of the chest, pulling out a smaller box and some papers. Elora glanced down at her thumb that she had sliced on her medallion earlier to find that there was no trace of the cut.
“Yes,” she said again, her anger ebbing and confusion was rising up to take its place.
“And if I’m not mistaken, you’ve also gained an ability to read others’ emotional states,” he said and looked at her expectantly.
“I—no,” Elora stammered. That was a new one. Could he be serious? Elora stared him down now, but his gaze wasn’t wavering. He was giving her a confident look and seemed very hopeful.
“You don’t expect me to read your mind, do you? You’re very confident about something. You’re expecting someone else, aren’t you?” she said. She was surprised at herself. Brother Preasl seemed to be satisfied with her answer, and her father still did not say anything, but she could feel his concern.
“It’s alright. I’m fine,” she said to him. Pa suddenly looked relieved, but still, he did not say anything.
“You’ve still got some explaining to do,” Elora sat down now. “I think I’m old enough to know, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course,” Brother Preasl got comfortable. “You were right, I am expecting someone. Brother Padj has gone to fetch her.”
“You mean Ocara,” Elora said. Brother Preasl looked surprised.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “She has been involved since the beginning. So allow me to tell you what your parents could not. But first, tell me what you have managed to find out for yourself.”
“Well, I know I’m not normal by any stretch of the means. Ever since I turned thirteen, I’ve snapped doors off their hinges, broken farm tools like toothpicks and snapped plates in two just by giving them a little tap with a spoon. I…” she trailed off. Brother Preasl gave her a look of encouragement.
“I’m pretty sure that I’m not your daughter,” she said just above a whisper and was fingering her medallion again.
“No, you’re not. You were given to us as an infant to raise. Your mother and I could not have children of our own. We thought you were simply a gift from the Roc himself when you were placed with us,” Pa said. “We loved you as our own the moment you were placed in our arms.”
“So where do I come from?” Elora asked. As if on cue, there was a soft tapping on the door. Brother Preasl quickly opened it and a flustered Brother Padj ushered in what looked like another monk, old and bent over with age. As soon as she was inside, Brother Padj backed out again and barred the door
“Ocara,” Elora stated before the monk could remove his cowl. Ocara was more or less of an outcast. She was a shaman of sorts, a healer to others and a witch to most. She was very old and for the most part, people avoided her. Elora seemed to strike up an odd kind of friendship with her over the years.
“How do you know—?” Pa began. Elora didn’t look him in the eye.
“I—she has been helping me with some sleep issues,” she murmured, not bothering to elaborate further.
“So youngling. You are here. The day has come,” she wheezed from under the cowl.
“What?” Elora asked for all of them.
“You have come to find out the meaning of your dreams,” Ocara stated as if it were mere fact. “Come closer.” She made a movement toward the empty fireplace that now roared to life.
“But I never told…How did you know…?” Elora muttered as she followed Ocara to the fireplace.
“There was something different about your dream this time,” Ocara said calmly. Elora nodded.
“I saw a woman. She was very pretty. She didn’t speak. She looked like she wanted to, but before I could speak…” Elora’s voice trailed off.
“You just turned your thirteenth year, did you not?” Ocara asked. Elora again nodded. Ocara produced a small pouch from within her robes and shook the contents. She cleared a space on the ground before the fire and then with both hands dumped the contents onto the dusty hearth. Little bits of what looked like bone and stone scattered slightly before her.
Elora stared intently, watching Ocara run a bony finger lightly over the pieces and draw small designs in the dirt and soot around them. She stopped suddenly and looked at Elora.
“What?” Elora asked.
“Your medallion,” Ocara held out her hand. Elora momentarily recoiled, but reached up and removed the coin she wore around her neck. She glanced down at it in her palm—a bronzed coin-looking medallion that had strange runes on it that no one seemed to understand, not even Ocara who held her outstretched hand for it.
Ocara seemed to study it intently for a long time. She let it fall onto the hearth and studied the bones around it. After what seemed like a long time, she gingerly picked it back up and handed it back again.
“And the bones said…what?” Elora tried to prompt.
“Bad omens,” Ocara said as casually as if she had said “Good morning”.
“So what is it this time? Bad weather? Failing crops? The mine going belly-up?” Elora couldn’t help her sarcasm.
“You won’t be staying here in Ring Forge for much longer. Ring Forge is headed for trouble. You will know by the sunrise. The cock will only crow once. The sunrise will be blood-red to indicate the disaster that will surely follow. You must not be near when disaster falls. The bones also tell of one hunted,” Ocara began, but seemed to become confused. “Odd. The bones are contradicting each other. This is not a good sign, either. One is hunted and that same one is the hunter. Very odd…”
“Speaking in riddles as usual,” Pa said softly with a quiet sigh.
“Tell me what you know of your past,” Ocara abruptly changed the subject. Elora felt frustration at this. What was this about? Didn’t Ocara already know everything there was to know about her?
“Nothing,” Elora fought to keep her voice calm and even. “I don’t know who my real parents are. The coin I’ve always had since before I can remember. I can’t ever lose it no matter how hard I try. It always finds its way back to me in some way, shape or form. Are you going to tell me what it says?”
“I know not what it says, but I can tell you that it has meaning. It is part of who and what you are. It has meaning for your destiny,” Ocara said. “There is a long-forgotten myth or legend of whoever wears such a coin is said to be a Child of the Expanse. However, it has been well known that no one has ever come out of the Expanse for many centuries. It is also known fact that whoever goes into the Expanse does not return again.”
“So what are you saying—that Elora is from the Expanse?” Pa asked.
“It would explain her new-found abilities and the coin around her neck,” Ocara replied patiently. She signaled to Brother Preasl who wordlessly pulled out a small wood box from the chest and handed it to Ocara.
“Open,” Ocara commanded, handing the box to Elora. Elora looked at the box in the firelight now, trying to find a seam or any kind of trigger. It was probably about the size of a small loaf of bread and was beautifully and intricately carved by a true craftsman. Without thinking, Elora ran her fingers over an intricate knot in the wood and the top suddenly slid sideways. As she carefully slid the lid all the way back, she could see that two decks of cards were nested inside on a velvet lining.
“Now that you are thirteen, you are old enough to learn a few more things that you did not know of before,” Ocara said. She pulled out her pipe and took her time in loading it up and lighting it. She had taken a few good drags off of it before she began to speak again.
“As you well know, you are not your parents’ daughter,” Ocara began.
“Yes,” Elora replied, barely audible. “I was found on the steps of this church in the village, but I have no idea who placed me there or why.”
“You were lucky. The parents you have now were the first to discover you. The people of Ring Forge are a very superstitious lot. If you hadn’t been discovered when you were, you likely would have been taken in to the council and likely killed when they saw your medallion. Anything that they can’t understand is always a bad thing and plenty of cause for fear. When you were discovered, Brother Preasl was on hand and I was called. You were also in possession of that box and a letter to explain,” Ocara handed over an old, worn piece of parchment. Elora gently took it from her as if it would disintegrate in her hand. She opened it gingerly and despite the low light of the fire, she was able to read it just fine.
To you who finds this child:
Please find it in your heart to care for this little girl. Her name is Elora Danine. As you might guess by the coin around her neck and the box that is with her that she is a very special child. Because of this, her life is in danger and it’s also why we cannot keep her. Please take her and raise her as your own. We only instruct that she have as normal a life as it is possible. Only as she reaches the age of thirteen can she take ownership of the box. Until then, please keep it safe and secret as well.
To my darling Elora, I desperately wish I could put down into words the feelings and the reasons and answer the questions I am sure you’ll have. But that is partly for you to discover. If anything, some circumstances being what they are and prophecies as fickle as they are, you might just get that chance to live a normal, worry-free life. I wish I could explain a great many things and their reasons, but if this letter were to fall into unfavorable hands, countless lives would be in danger, including yours. So guard the box with your life and use what’s within to your advantage.
Know that you are loved, and try to understand why, if you can.
All our love,
Llelandra and Connor
Elora stared hard at the parchment and read it again and again until she was simply staring at the ink marks and seeing double. Ocara sat calmly puffing on her pipe. She only watched Elora’s reactions as she reverently refolded the parchment, placed it on top of the cards and calmly slid the lid back onto the box.
“Your thoughts,” Ocara murmured.
“What prophecies?” she asked.
“Obscure and long-forgotten ones made long before you were even born. One states—A child of the Gryphon and Jowir with Rivahnoen blood will herald the coming of the Dark Times. Rivahnoe has grown powerful and those of the Roc and Lion’s Claw and the Darkness will come to claim Rivahnoe and destroy it.”
“What or who is Jowir?” Elora asked.
“Back many centuries ago, it was said that in the heart of the Expanse lives a great tree that is sentient known as the Jowir and it is the only one of its kind. The Gryphon is the deity of the Expanse. If you thought I was speaking in riddles, these prophecies that were left behind are up for all sorts of interpretation. Another prophecy states—The third shall sit upon the throne. The third power will make itself known. She will come to herald the turning tide, for by her words you will abide. For the Seer she paves the way, this and Rivahnoe’s dying day!”
“The Seer?” Pa interjected now.
“When the Seer comes, he or she will be the final sign that the end of the world is imminent,” Ocara began. “However, the art of foreseeing that far into the future has been lost over the years and is beyond even me.”
“So now I am the one to bring about the end of the world?” Elora barely breathed.
“Not necessarily. These things are never set in stone, even if they physically write them that way. Personally, I don’t think those old things they call prophecies hold any water. The only reason why people hold to them is because they are so deeply steeped in superstition. I’ve always believed that one has control over their destiny, not the stars or some other outside force. A path is laid before you. Either take it or don’t. It is completely up to you. The world will not end today, or tomorrow, or maybe not for years to come yet. There’s even the possibility that it won’t happen in your lifetime. Nothing dictates that,” Ocara said calmly. “You will need to come and visit me and I will teach you how to use the cards you were given.”
“Brother Preasl, is there not anything else…” Elora trailed off.
“I’m afraid not, my child. You now know all that I know. You were found on the steps. Why these steps and not elsewhere, will remain the mystery. I’m sure there was a good reason for it. Maybe your life was truly in danger, or not. We are lucky that no one has come asking after you, and as requested, you’ve had a normal upbringing. If it’s so that you are affiliated in any way to these old prophecies, you have the advantage that you have not been brought up with them being pounded into you your whole life and being told what path to take. You have the freedom to choose your path. We have been watching you grow up from afar. Ocara had a better idea of what would be happening to you in your thirteenth year and has wisely kept your secret known to just us in this room,” Brother Preasl said.
“But why am I so secret?” Elora asked.
“Because you are not the only one who follows prophecies,” Ocara said softly. “Remember, this is Palanyea. The Expanse may divide the two realms, but it is no secret that Palanyea would like to see the demise of Rivahnoe. His Majesty, King Soldalor has sages of his own, and his sister, Princess Avspa is one who follows the stars and signs and prophecies very closely. As a matter of fact,…” She trailed off. Brother Preasl shifted somewhat uncomfortably. Pa merely sat there looking as confused as Elora was feeling.
“Avspa has put quite a substantial bounty out for someone fitting your description,” Ocara found her voice again. “You come from unknown origins, have gained unnatural strength and empathic powers as of your thirteenth year, and the coin around your neck is as good as a birthmark.”
“What would she want with me?” Elora asked.
“She would either find a way to use your abilities to her advantage, or else have you killed. There’s really no telling,” she replied softly. “I’ve seen for myself and I could not hand you over. Riches mean nothing to me. Besides that, Avspa is not who you’d call nice.”
“That is true. She is only out for one person—herself. It does not matter the cost,” Brother Preasl agreed.
“So now what?” Elora asked.
“That’s all,” Ocara said as if she had gotten to the end of a fairytale and said “The End”. “My dear, it does not mean that the world will end within the next few hours. But now that you know, it would be best not to attract any unwanted attention. Keep your medallion hidden and don’t show anyone. Be mindful of your strength and don’t give anyone cause to question what you do. And most of all, while your emotions are strong, you must not let others’ emotions take over. Stay normal, my dear. Stay as normal as you possibly can. When the time comes…well, you’ll know when you get there. In the meantime, you should stop by my cabin and I can teach you how to use those cards.”
Ocara finished off her pipe and put it out, knocking the remaining contents into the fire and put it away. She stood up, replaced the cowl she had borrowed to disguise herself, made her way to the door and tapped twice, to where Brother Padj, who was on the other side, let her out and escorted her away. Brother Preasl quickly put the fire out, put the chest back in its dark, forgotten corner and checked to see if the coast was clear before escorting Elora and her father out to the front of the church again, where he bade them a hasty “Good day!” and sent them on their way.