Page 34 of Bound in Flames

Seer Arna studied me for a long moment, her face impassive, though her eyes gleamed with knowledge. She slowly folded her hands in her lap and let out a measured breath.

"The prophecy has been passed down through the ages, from the time before we were driven into the alps, when we still roamed the forests and valleys. It speaks of a shaman who will return when the balance of the world is thrown into chaos. When darkness threatens to consume all."

I listened intently, my heart racing in my chest. Seer Arna’s voice was steady, yet there was an urgency in her tone, as if the prophecy had always been more than just words. It was a promise.

“The prophecy foretells of one with hair of fire”—her gaze flicked to my bright red hair—"whose presence would be marked by the magic of the earth. This shaman, born outside of our people but tied to the ancient ways, will carry the power to restore the balance between life and death, creation and destruction. The one who walks between these forces will lead our people back to the lands that were stolen from us. Your power will heal not only the orcs, but the scars of a broken world torn apart by darkness.”

I could only stare at her as my thoughts began to spin out of control. The prophecy’s words painted a vivid reflection—my hair, my magic—binding me to an ancient fate.How could I be that shaman?

Dex’s hand tightened in mine, grounding me. “You’re not alone in this, Cleo. You’ve felt the magic. You’ve already started walking the path."

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "But... How could I be the one they’ve waited for?" I asked, looking at Seer Arna. "I barely understand this magic. I didn’t even know the truth about the war until the journey here.”

Seer Arna’s eyes softened and she offered a comforting smile. “The prophecy says nothing of having all the answers. Only that you will bring balance to a world teetering on the edge of chaos. That is your destiny. To guide us to restore what has been lost."

I felt a shiver run across my skin as her words wrapped around me like a mantle, heavy with expectations I wasn’t sure I could meet.Guide them?I had never thought of myself as a leader, let alone someone capable of restoring balance to anything.

"Why do the orcs think I’m the one who can help them return to their lands?" My voice trembled. "How do you know it’sme?"

She leaned forward, her voice growing softer, as if sharing a secret. "Because, Cleo, the magic within you is not just a tool for battle or survival. It is the magic of life itself. Of the earth and all its creatures. The prophecy speaks of one who will restore the lands. That is why our people believe in you."

I blinked, the enormity of what she was saying sinking in. The orcs didn’t just see me as a protector or a warrior; they saw me as their hope. The hope of reclaiming their ancestral lands, the hope of leaving their sanctuary and returning to the forests and valleys they had once called home.

But... I don’t know if I’m strong enough.” My voice barely rose above a whisper.

Seer Arna rose from her seat. She took a deep breath, and then, to my surprise, she began to recite something melodic and ancient.

When the earth is torn, and the sky burns red,

And the balance falters, and the green is dead,

From the lands of men shall a fire arise,

With hair of flame and storm in her eyes.

Her voice carried through the hall, and as the words settled, the other orcs around the room began to join in. Their deep voices blended with hers, creating a chorus that echoed off the stone walls, filling the room with the weight of the prophecy.

She shall walk with the magic deep in her veins,

And call to the earth through its roots and rains.

The shaman will come, to heal and to fight,

To bring back the dawn after endless night.

Her hands shall mend where the darkness has spread,

Her touch will raise what the shadows left dead.

She’ll stand with the earth, between life and decay,

And lead the lost home, to the break of day.

The balance she brings will shatter the chains,

Of exile and fear, of sorrow and pains.

Through mountains and rivers, to forests untamed,

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