Chapter 114 : Echoes of the Unborn
The fire crackled low in the stone hearth, but no one felt its warmth. The flames reached up high but it seemed it was just up for show, it had no effect whatsoever.
They had returned to the safehouse, a hidden compound laced with blood wards and elemental seals. Lucia and Raven had insisted on this place, even though they clashed at times, they were more similar than they realised. Only a handful knew of its existence and yet, even here, Isla couldn’t shake the feeling that something was listening.
It had been three days since Brienne's possession. Three days since Isla’s unborn child had been nearly claimed by something ancient and starless.
No one spoke of the voice. But it continued to linger, especially in sleep, because that was the easiest way in.
That night, they all dreamed…
Damian saw flames devour the North, and in the middle of the ash stood a child with golden eyes and silver hair, reaching for him, smiling like a god. The child was at ease but the smile curving his lips seemed to calm for the havoc unleashed.
Leo dreamed of a past that wasn’t his, or so he thought. He was kneeling before a dark throne, pledging fealty to a child with Isla’s voice and eyes and Damian’s traits.
Brienne woke up choking herself to death, her hands burning with phantom runes, whispering words in a language she couldn’t understand but somehow feared. She was so done with all this bullshit. She has withstood Vincent and all his terrorising, despite the fact that they both knew they were attracted to each other. She would never accept her fate. She would stand faithful to Damian, Isla and their child.
Even Raven was not spared. Her dream was brief, Lucia, the oracle, standing before a pool of black water, eyes bleeding light, whispering:
“It remembers. Even before it breathes, it remembers everything.”
She woke up with a sudden intake of breath, as though she was screaming but no sound came out. Lucia was staring at her blankly.
When dawn broke, the compound trembled with movement. Messages had gone out and answers were coming back their way.
Marcus arrived first, bearing scars from a rogue skirmish and grim news: the western border had been breached, but the attackers were not wolves. He didn't know what they were, only that they moved in silence and left symbols burned into trees
.
Alaine followed, escorted by two of Damian’s most trusted lieutenants. She threw her arms around Isla with genuine relief, but her joy faded the moment she touched her, eyes wide, whispering, “You’re humming with something that’s not ours.” Damian and Leo looked at her questioningly, as if to some extent that was obvious.
That same afternoon, Damian’s parents arrived, cloaked and flanked by their personal guard. His mother, elegant and silver-eyed, surveyed Isla long and hard before saying, “There are prophecies we never told you.”
Isla’s voice broke the silence. “Then it’s time you start.”
But before they could go on further Lucia appeared from in between the bushes. She was being more cryptically than usual. Oracle’s were rare and it was tough to understand their maniac tendencies or otherworldly connections. “What are youup to Lucia?” Damian growled. But Lucia ignored him, stepping toward the fire, eyes fixed on Isla.
“Rohen will be here soon and he’s not alone.”
Rohen deVere, rogue leader, breaker of the western pact, and proven trustworthy ally, was approaching with a delegation.
They were coming in peace, not to fight, but to talk.
“Rohen has seen what’s coming,” Lucia murmured. “ He believes the child can save or destroy us all. He’s willing to send word to far away clans about you. Defending your legitimacy.”
Isla’s heart thundered. “Why me? Why now?”
She stood slowly, hands on her stomach.
“I felt the child last night. Not just moving. Shaping. I dreamed of things that couldn’t have happened. Places I’ve never seen. But they felt like memories, her memories.”
She looked at Raven. “You said it was awakening. That the baby would remember.”
Raven nodded grimly. “This is not just your child but also the echo of something that was and is again. Something the Elders tried to bury. Something even they fear.”
Damian came to her side, his hand resting on hers.
“But this baby is still ours,” he said. “No matter what and no matter who comes.”
Isla exhaled. Then the door creaked open. A scent of snow and ash blew in, Rohen stepped into the light.
Even though he had become a good friend to Isla he seemed older and broader under this light. He was carrying the same deadly grace, but his eyes seemed slightly changed. They have a hint of a flicker towards Lucia’s figure. Unnoticeable by many but not to Isla.
Rohen didn’t bow because it was an act he didn’t abide by. But he looked straight at Isla’s belly and said:
“Hello, little one. We meet again.”