Elara POV
That evening, I couldn't stop thinking about the cipher.
The words kept echoing in my mind. Thirty to fifty percent survival. Reality collapse without me. Thousands dead either way.
I sat in my room with the scroll. The prophecy scroll Dorian had given me. The one with Theron's signature at the bottom.
Something about it felt wrong. Off. Like it was hiding something.
My mother's journal lay beside it. I'd read it so many times I had whole sections memorized. But tonight, one passage stood out.
The scroll is not just anchor. It's key and lock. Prison and escape route.
What did that mean?
I picked up the scroll. Studied it under the lamplight. The words looked normal. The same prophecy everyone knew. The twin-flame who would either save or destroy both kingdoms.
But something nagged at me. A feeling I couldn't shake.
I thought about what Dorian had said. About the cipher requiring my blood to decode. About magic keyed to my specific signature.
