Before You Read Chapter 14: The Truth We Were Waiting For

This is the chapter where prophecy stops whispering.

Where history becomes personal.
Where identity becomes a question instead of a certainty.

You have seen Max face darkness and defy judgment, but now she faces something deeper...
A truth buried within her skin.

A scholar opens a book.
A name is spoken.
And everything changes.

This is not a chapter of battle, but of burden.
A truth long hidden begins to rise.
And with it, a warning.

Read slowly.
Watch what is said, and what is not.
Because the truth we longed for may be the beginning of something far worse.

Lady Elsa’s voice was smooth, deliberate. “Both of you have shown tremendous growth in the spiritual field. We have been watching you.”

I exhaled slowly through my nose. Circles. We were going in circles.

Enough.

I cut straight through the dance. “Do you want us to join you?”

“Yes.” Her smirk followed, as if she’d known the question before I asked it.

Leaning back slightly, she added, “I also heard about your… tiff with the Judicars. I’d rather have you with us than watch them tear down two of our best warriors. At the very least, we can offer more protection against them.”

That last part hit like a hammer.

Eric stiffened beside me. I turned to him, and the expression on his face mirrored exactly what I felt.

Fury.

I shifted my gaze back to her, reclining in my seat, one leg crossing over the other. “And our teams?”

Her smile was warm, too warm. Like a cat promising the mouse a safe passage.

“Of course,” she said smoothly. “Given what happened earlier, we know how protective you are of your teammates. How could we possibly exclude them from the… ”

She paused, eyes flickering with something unreadable.

“… deal?”

I narrowed my eyes. A deal. So that’s what this was.

Eric had been silent too long, and when he finally spoke, his voice was like steel wrapped in velvet.

“A deal,” he repeated, slow and deliberate. “Deals are made between parties for mutual benefit.” His eyes darkened, narrowing into slits. “So tell me, Lady Elsa…” He leaned forward just enough to tip the balance of power. “… what exactly do you gain from this?”

The gentleman to her right cleared his throat. “The Living Scripture of course.”

And there it is.

The moment I have long waited for, someone to burst the ‘Living Scripture’ bubble.

When I asked Seth about this at the Labyrinth of Books, he was quick to mention that the right person would inform me at the right time.

I keep my expression blank. “And you are?”

He nodded his head and with a sincere apologetic smile rushed to introduce himself. “I am Neil. I used to work with Seth at the Labyrinth of Books.”

The nail on the head. Seth the sly fox. Wait until I strangle the nonsense out of you.

My smile was tense but showed no malice. “Please do explain.”

This subject must fascinate him because the glint in his eyes is like headlamps with their trajectory focus.

“The Living Scripture has been in existence since the beginning of time.”

He slapped on some latex gloves, pulled an old, leather-bound book from his bag, and gently opened the ancient pages.

“The Living Scripture is not bound by mortal constraints, for it was never meant to perish. It is a law written into existence: immutable, unyielding. Laws do not die; they are revised, rewritten, or sealed.”

He looked at me briefly to see if I was following, then continued reading from the book.

“Should the Vessel be struck down, its form shall fracture, not fade. The words upon its flesh will scatter, embedding themselves into the fabric of reality; hidden in stone, whispered in the wind, reflected in the waters of the unseen.

"In time, these words shall return, aligning once more and restoring what was broken... but never without consequence. A law rewritten is a law changed, and what is lost in the reformation may never be regained."

Yet beware: should the sacred script be intercepted, stolen, or defiled, the Vessel may rise altered, fragmented, or bound to another’s will. For even the divine can be twisted in the hands of those who seek dominion over fate.”

Lady Elsa leaned in, covering her mouth as she whispered something to him. Neil’s eyes lit up, and just like that, his attention shifted fixed squarely on Eric and me.

He turned the pages with delicate precision until a faint smile touched the corners of his mouth. “I almost forgot the most important bit. This… will change your lives from here on out.”

Adjusting his spectacles, he cleared his throat and continued reading:

“Yet the Flame alone does not endure, no fire breathes without air. And in times of great unraveling, the Breath shall find the Flame, not to consume, but to complete. Together, they are the Law fulfilled: one to ignite, the other to carry it forth.”

He closed the book with a weighty thud, his gaze locking onto mine.

“You were never meant to die, Max. But that doesn’t mean you cannot be rewritten.”

I sat frozen, the weight of their words pressing down on me like an unseen force. My fingers twitched before I slowly brought them to the bridge of my nose, pinching it as if the pressure might somehow steady me.

Lady Elsa shifted in her seat and exhaled quickly as if to speak, but I raised a hand without looking up. Not yet. Just… give me a moment.

A thought slithered into my mind, cold and unwelcome. Have I been rewritten before? And what’s this with the Flame and Breath bit? A shiver crawled down my spine, and my eyes snapped open.

I met their gazes, my voice steady despite the storm building inside me.

“Why don’t I know these things about myself? Who is ‘the Breath’, the one destined to complete ‘the Flame’?”

Lady Elsa hesitated, studying me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.

“You might have been rewritten before…” Her voice trailed off, her stare unwavering. “… And quite a few times at that. But now that I’ve met you, I’m relieved. At least it’s your memory that suffered, not your humanity.”

I noticed a flicker of something, her brow tightened, but the expression vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

She shifted in her seat but didn’t look away. Her voice was calm, but not without weight.

“We don’t know who ‘the Breath’ is. But if you are meant to meet him… then I believe that time is now. For all we know, you may already have.”

Neil let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head.

“No one knew you were ‘the Flame’, not at first. It was the signs that revealed you. Maybe… it’s the same for him. Maybe you need to watch for the signs.”

He paused, then added more seriously, “As the prophecy says: he may be the one who stops ‘the Flame’ from losing control. And trust me... if you had lost that, we wouldn’t be sitting here having this conversation.”

A part of me wanted to scoff, like I hadn’t already burned through a dozen lives just trying to stay intact.

But beneath the storm of weariness and fire, something stirred.

Not a thought. Not a feeling.

A presence: patient, watchful, as if it had been waiting for this moment all along.

Eric didn’t share his amusement. His jaw tightened. “Why?” His voice was sharp, almost accusing. “Would she turn into some kind of monster?”

Neil’s smirk faded instantly, his expression growing grim. “Not quite.” He leaned forward, fingers laced together. “She’d become a Hollow Vessel. And that… is something else entirely.”