Page 87 of Beneath the Desert Bloom
As she spoke, she lit three small candles on the table.
“He wasn’t born that way. The land made him. Called him when it was under threat. It needed a protector, and so it took a man who had nothing left to lose and turned him into something else.”
“Changed him how?”
“His name was stripped. His body reshaped. He became a creature of bark and ash and silence. Bound to the land, but not complete on his own.”
Nora’s breath slowed.
“And the woman?” Nora asked, softly.
Opal’s fingers stilled on the stone.
“She came before. Some called her a witch; some called her a seer. She had the pull.”
A pause.
“But she did not wait.”
The air seemed to hold its breath.
“She tried to command the desert. Bend it to her will. Use its power for herself.”
Opal looked up. Her voice was quiet.
“The land does not bloom for those who try to own it.”
Nora swallowed.
“What happened to her?”
Opal didn’t answer right away.
“She disappeared. Or was consumed. Or burned from the inside out.” A small shrug. “Depends who’s telling the story. But the desert didn’t forget her. Some echoes don’t fade.”
Nora hesitated. Her throat felt tight.
“Will I be like her?”
Opal looked up. There was no smile in her eyes now, just quiet certainty.
“No. You’re not like her. You stayed longer. You listened. You walked into the hollow and didn’t flinch.”
Nora’s mouth twisted. “So I’m not doomed to repeat history? I’m just the next idiot in line?”
“You’re not in line at all,” Opal said. “No one pushed you into this. You crossed the threshold on your own. And he met you there.”
Nora opened her mouth to argue. She wanted to say she wasn’t chosen. That she didn’t believe in cosmic matchmaking. That she had a degree, dammit. But instead, she said, “What happens now?”
“You’ve already taken the first step.”
“I let him—”
“You accepted the bond. With your body. With your breath. Now you have to decide how far you’re willing to follow it.”
A silence stretched between them.
“I’m already changing,” Nora admitted. “Inside. I can feel it.”
