Chapter 4

I went back to my chamber, the cold seeping into my bones. A few minutes later, there was a knock on my door. It was Elder Maeve and Elder Ronan, their faces etched with concern. They were the ones who had raised me and Kaelen, the closest thing to parents we ever had. "Elara, are you hurt?" Maeve asked, her warm hand resting on my shoulder. "We heard about the fire."

Ronan, always more direct, looked around the smoke-stained room. "Kaelen was here. He was yelling. What happened? He seemed to think you started this." His gaze was sharp, demanding an explanation for my strange behavior. They knew me. They knew I was not capable of such a thing. My silence was making them nervous.

Maeve's grip on my shoulder tightened. "You've been different lately, Elara. Distant. We are worried." She recalled a time, just a few years ago, when I had risked my own life force to save a group of young disciples from a collapsing training ground. "You have always been the one to protect others. This isn't like you." Her words were meant to comfort, but they only twisted the knife of my past failures. I had protected everyone but the one who mattered most.

I had to make them understand. I had to have allies. I couldn't do this alone. I looked at their worried faces and made a decision. "I had a dream," I said, my voice low and heavy. "A terrible dream. I saw this fire. I saw... I saw Kaelen die." Their eyes widened in shock. "In my dream, the main support beam in the hall collapsed on him. He died because he went back to save Lyra, who was never in any danger."

I knew it sounded insane, but I had to try. I pushed the sleeve of my robe up, revealing a small, intricate mark on my wrist. It was a birthmark, a swirling pattern of silver lines. "In my dream, after he died, this mark vanished." I looked them in the eyes, my voice filled with a conviction I didn't entirely feel. "I know it sounds impossible. But when I woke up, I knew I had to stop it. I used my lifeblood to reinforce the beam before the fire even started. I saved him." I paused, letting the weight of my words sink in. "He thinks I am a monster, but I don't care. As long as he is alive."

Elder Maeve and Elder Ronan exchanged a long, searching look. They had seen prophecies and portents before. My story, as wild as it was, had the ring of desperate truth. Ronan stepped forward and gently took my wrist, examining the silver mark. It pulsed with a faint, steady light. "The mark is still there," he murmured, his voice filled with awe and a dawning understanding. He looked at Maeve, who nodded slowly, her expression changing from worry to a grim resolve. They believed me. A small bit of warmth spread through my chest. The Heartstone against my skin felt a little warmer now. It was a sign. I was on the right path.