Chapter 35 The Birth Of The Catalyst
Damon took Fernanda to another room, much larger than the one where she was being kept. Fernanda continued to memorize every single thing she saw as they walked on.
They passed so many narrow and dimly lit hallways which made her wonder more about who they were. "I apologise for not properly showing you everything before saying all I said the day before." Damon said as soon as they entered the room.
Fernanda didn't respond, she was busy studying the room. Everything looked simple and orderly, from polished tables and bookshelves to the soft carpets that spreads across the marble floor.
"This is my office," He said again, getting her attention this time. "Your office?" She replied astounded. "Yes. And it is also where I and the rest of the order discuss serious matters concerning the realm." He explained further.
Fernanda now understood the why there was a large table in the middle of another segment of the office with chairs around it.
"You discuss matters concerning the realm but everything is kept a secret?" Fernanda questioned, giving Damon a pointed look.
"Believe it or not Fernanda, there's so much more going on in our world and not just within Lunareth." He responded, taking off his long coat.
It seemed like there was nothing out of the ordinary in Damon's office until Fernanda's eyes caught something on the left. Golden scrolls. She walked up to where they were neatly arranged on a bookshelf to see them more clearly.
They were up to fifteen and each had a golden inscription on its body that wasn't easily seen unless one looked properly. "These are beautiful, what are they?" Fernanda couldn't help but ask.
Damon's lips curled into a small smile, "They are sworn oaths. Every member of the order has one. It is an oath of allegiance to the great purpose of the order. These are the oaths of our fallen soldiers."
Fernanda's eyes carefully moved across the gilded scrolls. Then she saw it. Her mother's name. Inscribed boldly on a scroll just like the other names she had seen. Lilith Stone.
"Your mother was a classified member of the order. She was so dedicated to the cause. Lilith was formidable." Damon said, knowing the reason why Fernanda was so still was because she has seen her mother's name.
"None of this makes sense. My mother–" Fernanda began to say but Damon interrupted her.
"How much do you remember of your mother?" He asked. "I remember well enough to know that this is all bullshit." She spat at him, frowning as she left the shelves. "You were eight when she died," Damon told her.
"So? I still remember everything about her. Her voice, her smile, her face... Everything. She was always around," Fernanda said. "And you are so sure that was all there is to your mother?" Damon said again. Fernanda wanted to say something... Anything. But she couldn't.
Infact, it was like everything had become a blur.
"My mother would never join a cult that kidnaps people." She stated firmly again.
"Fernanda this isn't a cult and we don't kidnap people." Damon's tone had now switched from calculated to defensive. "Makes me wonder how I got here then," Fernanda scoffed.
Damon sighed, "You are not listening to me Fernanda." He said with both arms folded. "Your mother would never join a secret association that hurt people. That's not the kind of person she was." The way Damon talked about her mother made Fernanda held back her next remark.
Fernanda stood in the center of the office, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, as if holding her thoughts in place. The silence that followed her last words pressed heavily against her chest.
“Then tell me,” she said at last, her voice quieter but sharper, “Tell me about my mother. Tell me about this order you keep talking about. No riddles, no half truths.”
Damon studied her for a long moment. His gaze flickered briefly toward the golden scrolls, then back to her face.
“You deserve the truth,” he said. “All of it.”
Fernanda nodded once. “Then start talking.”
Damon moved toward one of the chairs near the large table and sat, gesturing for her to do the same. She hesitated, then took a seat opposite him, keeping her back straight and her chin lifted.
“The Order of the Veil was formed nearly a hundred years after the first prophecy,” Damon began. “The Oracle spoke of a child who would be born to mend what the world would one day tear apart. A living convergence of balance. The catalyst.”
Fernanda scoffed softly. “Stories meant to scare people into obedience.”
“That is what most believed,” Damon replied calmly. “While the Lycan kingdoms rose and fell, while rulers fought for land and pride, something else was happening beneath the surface. The balance of elemental wielding began to fracture. Fire, water, earth, air, shadow, light. They were never meant to exist in excess.”
Fernanda frowned. “So you decided to play guardians of the world.”
“We had no choice,” Damon said. “Every war between kingdoms widened the cracks. Crops failed without reason. Rivers dried overnight. Shadows began to move where they should not. These were not things kings noticed. They were too busy counting victories.”
“And your order fixed it all from the shadows,” Fernanda said bitterly.
“We patched what we could,” Damon answered. “Quietly. Carefully. Always waiting for the catalyst to be born, because only the catalyst could truly restore balance.”
Fernanda shifted in her chair. “And you expected that child to just hand themselves over to you?”
“No,” Damon said. “We expected sacrifice. Ours and theirs.”
That made her stomach twist.
“And then,” Damon continued, “Lilith Stone gave birth.” Fernanda’s breath caught before she could stop it.
“She did not tell us,” Damon said softly. “Not at first. She came to me alone, shaking, terrified. She told me the child had shown signs the moment she was born. The pull of balance. The stillness that calmed a room. The way the elements responded.”
Fernanda shook her head. “That is impossible. I was a normal child.”
“You were protected,” Damon said. “Hidden. Lilith went to extraordinary lengths to ensure that.”
Fernanda leaned forward. “So you knew. All this time, you knew.”
“I did,” Damon admitted. “And I helped her hide you.”
Her voice trembled despite her effort to steady it. “Why?”
“Because your mother loved you more than the world,” Damon said simply.
Fernanda swallowed hard.
“She knew what the order would demand,” Damon went on. “Training from childhood. Isolation. Preparation without mercy. The catalyst was never meant to live a normal life. Lilith could not accept that for you.”
“So she lied,” Fernanda said.
“Yes,” Damon replied. “She told the order the child was stillborn. She swore on her oath scroll that the prophecy had not yet come to pass.”
Fernanda’s eyes widened. “She broke her oath.”
“She shattered it,” Damon said quietly. “And she knew the cost.”
Fernanda stood abruptly, pacing the length of the room. “You expect me to believe my mother betrayed everything she believed in for me.”
“She did,” Damon said. “And she paid for it every day she lived.” Fernanda stopped walking. “Then why did she die?” Her voice cracked when she asked. She never knew her mom had to carry that heavy burden all on her own.
Damon’s expression darkened. “Her heart condition was real. Stress worsened it. Fear worsened it. Living with the knowledge that the world’s fate rested in a child she could not protect forever slowly destroyed her.”
Fernanda’s chest felt tight. “She never told me any of this.”
“She wanted you to have a childhood untouched by prophecy,” Damon said. “But when you were eight, she knew her time was ending.”
Fernanda turned back to him slowly. “What did she do?”
“She made me promise,” Damon said. “She made me swear that when the time came, I would protect you, even from the order itself, until you were strong enough to choose your own path.”
Fernanda’s voice cracked. “And this is protection?”
“This is the last thing she wanted,” Damon admitted. “But the cracks have grown too wide. The shadow wielders are no longer contained. The kingdoms are closer to all out collapse than ever before.”
Fernanda sank back into her chair. “So I am your solution.”
“You are the balance,” Damon said. “Whether you accept it or not.”
She stared at her hands. Memories surfaced that she had long dismissed. The way storms calmed when she cried as a child. The strange warmth that followed her anger. The moments when she felt too aware of the world around her.
“My whole life,” she whispered, “has been a lie.”
“No,” Damon said gently. “It has been a gift.”
She looked up at him sharply. “I did not ask for this.”
“Neither did your mother,” Damon replied. “Yet she carried it with grace.”
Silence stretched between them again, heavy but different this time.
“What happens now?” Fernanda asked.
“That depends on you,” Damon said. “The order will not force you. Not anymore. Too much has been lost already.”
She laughed softly, without humor. “You kidnapped me.”
“To save the realm,” Damon said.
“And if I refuse?” she asked.
Damon hesitated. “Then the world will continue to fracture. Slowly at first. Then all at once.”
Fernanda closed her eyes. Images of Sebastian, of her father’s voice, of a world she thought she understood flashed through her mind.
When she opened her eyes again, there was something steadier in them.
“My mother trusted you,” she said.
“Yes,” Damon answered.
“And she believed I would have a choice.”
“She did.”
Fernanda exhaled deeply. “Then I will listen. I will learn. Not because of prophecy, not because of your order, but because I refuse to let her sacrifice be meaningless.”
Damon rose from his chair, bowing his head slightly. “That is all we ever hoped for.”
Fernanda stood as well, her fear still present, but no longer ruling her. For the first time since waking in chains, the world made sense. Not kinder, not safer, but clearer. And clarity, she realized, has its own kind of power.