Page 65 of Secrets & Curses of Cerithia

I smiled to myself as I walked through the woods within the wall of Cerithia. I wasn’t stupid enough to disobey today. Not when tomorrow was the big day, the day I was going to Exile to see for myself if everybody was really gone, and if they were—the realm of Elloryon would crumble with me as I gave in and lost my mind.

I paused at a small, run-down shack in the forest. I looked around to see if anyone was near me as I moved toward it. It was falling apart, and I knew it couldn’t be inhabited, but I was still curious. I had not ventured into the forest here before, so I wasn’t sure why I felt like this shouldn’t be here. It seemed somehow... misplaced.

Maybe that was what drew me to it. The wood planks that made the walls were vertical to the ground, but some of them had rotted away with time. This allowed me to see that there was nothing inside, but that didn’t stop me from continuing into it. I assumed the roof was also made of planks of wood, but I couldn’t be sure because of the moss covering it. The thin door was ajar when I reached it. I peeked inside and saw nothing, but I still couldn’t stop myself from taking a step through the doorway.

Once my whole body crossed the threshold, I froze. The shack had suddenly transformed into a stunning yet quaint home. I looked around the space and saw that it was now the size of ten shacks. The floor was pretty hardwood, with beautiful rugs spread across it. Two large chairs faced a roaring fireplace that held little knick-knacks on the mantle.

I turned and saw artwork hanging on the walls. So much that there was no room to hang another piece anywhere. I took a hesitant step forward so I could see the handcrafted wooden table and chairs that sat in a small space by the kitchen. Who lived here? How had they enchanted this space to be hidden so well?

“Thea,” a frail voice from behind, startled me. I turned to see a man sitting in one of the chairs by the fireplace that had been empty a moment ago. How had I not heard him? He was small—at least two feet shorter than me. The gray hair on his head was scraggly, and his beard was unkempt, like he didn’t know what a brush was. His clothes looked handmade and old, stitched with patches and threadbare on his papery skin. I held my breath when he turned slightly to me, his cloudy white eyes surprising me. He was blind.

“How did you know it was me?”

He scoffed.

“I expected you days ago, child, but better late than never, I suppose.” He waved his arm to the other chair by the fire, and Itook it. Nothing told me I should feel in danger. In fact, I almost felt like I belonged here.

“Should I know who you are?”

“No.” He turned his head to the roaring fire. “We’ve never met.”

I looked at him for a long moment, trying to decide what I should ask first. He started rocking his chair slightly as I stared speechlessly at him.

“Then how do you know my name?”

“Everyone knows who you are, Thea,” he scoffed, like it was ridiculous that I didn’t know that. I glared at his bad attitude, not that he could see it. “Don’t look at me like that.”

My face dropped immediately, and he laughed loudly. The high-pitched cackles echoed in the small space.

“A seer may be blind, but we see all.”

A seer, I had never met one that I knew of. I smiled at him as I leaned back in my chair and rocked in tandem with him. Something about this quaint space made me feel calm and safe.

“You are troubled,” he frowned. “I feared you would be after the prophecy revealed itself, but I did not know it would cause so much deception and betrayal for you.” He turned to me. “I’m sorry I revealed the prophecy, but as a seer, I did not have a choice. If I had, I would have never spoken about your identity.”

I stopped rocking immediately. This was the man who had revealed the prophecy. This was the man who saw what I was to become and terrified everyone by revealing it.

“You are responsible for the prophecy,” I muttered, not sure how I was actually feeling. “You’re Brim?”

He nodded at his name. “No, I am not responsible for anything. I am a mere vessel for the prophecy. It chose me to speak the words, but that is the extent of my doing in all of this. Being a seer is not a job for the faint. We must tell our visions, even if it is not always for the best.”

“And what did the prophecy say of me?”

“No one has told you?” He looked truly appalled. “That’s a bunch of shit.” His choice of words made me chuckle loudly. He smiled at the sound.

“I have heard bits and pieces of it, but no one has revealed its entirety. I know that kingdoms fear me, fight over me, and even think I’m a monster because of it.” I frowned as I said the words out loud. He rocked silently for a moment.

“They are all idiots,” he finally declared. “The problem with prophecies is that they can be interpreted to suit anyone’s needs, being misconstrued and twisted into what they are not. I suppose that is part of the allure of a prophecy. Sadly, though, I am not in a position of power or authority to try and tell them that they are wrong.”

“Did anyone interpret it correctly?” I asked.

“Yes,” he sighed thoughtfully. “Although I cannot reveal who, you must discover it on your own and draw your own conclusions from it.”

I nodded as a response.

Clearing his throat in preparation, the old man began to speak in a measured cadence, using a tone that elicited my full attention.

A day in which a decision was to be made—a choice that only results in death

---