Chapter Fifty-Three:

“When Prophecies Unfold”

The study was lined with towering shelves of ancient tomes, their spines bearing the marks of countless hands.

Lanterns cast a golden hue over the intricate carvings that adorned the wooden walls. Faint traces of parchment, ink, and something floral lingered in the air.

The crew of the Aetheris stood before a grand desk of polished oak, its surface littered with scrolls, ledgers, and half-unfurled maps. Across from them, seated in a high-backed chair, was Arch Scholar Valtren, a man of steady composure, his eyes sharp with wisdom and weariness alike. He had listened. He had absorbed. And now, he weighed them.

To his left stood Scholar Elidren, an Elf with piercing oak-colored eyes and an aura of quiet scrutiny. He bore the ageless grace of his kind, his expression sharp and focused as he studied every word, every gesture.

Beside him, Scholar Rellin, a small-statured Human with a streak of gray through his dark hair, nearly vibrated with barely contained excitement. His fingers drummed against his forearm, eyes darting between the Aetheris crew with the eagerness of a man who had spent his life studying myths, only to have them step into his reality.

"It is one thing to hear tales of prophecy," Arch Scholar Valtren finally spoke. "Quite another to have one land at our doorstep."

Asha adjusted her stance, her gaze washing over the others, gauging their reactions. "It wasn’t our intention to be part of some prophecy. We didn’t even know about it."

"And yet," Scholar Elidren interjected, "you arrived in the very vessel foreseen. And this warrior," his gaze slid toward Leo, "was displayed in the festival’s celestial lights, his fists meeting in a display of fire and brilliance for all to see. That is… quite the coincidence. Wouldn't you agree?"

Leo shifted slightly, but his expression gave nothing away. "I don’t put much stock in fate. But if this so-called prophecy can tell us what happens next, I’d love to hear it."

Scholar Rellin’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Prophecies do not tell us what happens next, warrior. But we do know where the Dark One is headed next, the Guardian of Fire. The Aetheris grants you passage to him, a path that until now was impossible."

Silence stretched through the room, weighty yet unfinished. Arch Scholar Valtren leaned forward, fingertips pressing together. "The prophecies have long spoken of the airship’s arrival, of the Players who would stand before us, but there is another, one who walks among our people. Emily, the Archer. She must be brought into this."

Before anyone could answer, a knock rapped against the chamber door.

Valtren's attention shifted toward it, his eyes betraying nothing. Then, with quiet certainty, he spoke.

"Ah, that must be her."

The heavy wooden doors swung open, and General Aldric Varos stepped into the study, his every movement crisp with authority. Behind him, Emily followed, her steps steady despite the weight of expectation pressing in from all sides. The scent of parchment and burning oil filled the air, but it was the gathered figures before her that commanded all attention.

Arch Scholar Valtren inclined his head in greeting, his expression warm yet measured with curiosity. "Emily, welcome," he said, his voice measured, authoritative yet inviting. He gestured to the others in the room. "Please, meet the crew of the Aetheris."

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Before she could fully take them in, the wiry teenager with sharp eyes and a restless energy sprang up from his seat. "Name’s Ankit," he announced, flashing a quick grin. "Welcome to the team!"

Emily barely had a second to react before another voice cut in, cooler and more measured.

"Not so fast," Evelyn interjected, arms crossed, her eyes sharp and unyielding. "Why would we be so quick to welcome her aboard? Wasn't she the one who was all buddy-buddy with the Dark One? The one who stood beside the fraud who claimed to be this savior Swordsman?" Her stare didn’t waver. "How do we know we can trust her?"

Silence stretched between them, but before Emily could formulate a response, another voice entered the conversation, steady, authoritative.

"That decision is mine to make," Amari said. The Captain of the Aetheris leaned forward, his gaze locking onto Emily’s with quiet intensity. "So, tell me, Emily, why should we trust you?"

The question hung in the air, the weight of it settling over the room.

A weighted silence settled over the study, thick with expectation. Emily inhaled slowly, steadying herself. She wouldn't apologize, and she certainly wouldn't beg. Instead, she let her voice cut through the silence, even and unwavering.

"You think I was ‘buddy-buddy’ with him? That I stood beside him knowing what he was? If that were true, I wouldn’t be standing here now, would I?" She met Evelyn’s gaze without flinching. For a long moment, she said nothing, then gave a small, reluctant nod, as if conceding a battle she hadn't expected to lose. "Rendall fooled all of us. And maybe that’s what makes him dangerous, not that he wielded some power, but that he made people believe in him."

Emily turned her focus to Amari, her tone firm but not defensive. "Trust isn’t something I can give you in a speech. You’ll either figure out I belong here, or you won’t. But I’ll tell you this much, I know what I saw, I know what I felt, and I know I’m not going to sit back and let him win. If that’s not enough for you, that’s not my problem."

Emily waited, she could feel their eyes on her, expecting her to falter, to stumble, to justify herself. But she wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction. Lifting her chin slightly, she met their gazes head-on.

Amari regarded her for a moment, his gaze steady. Then, he exhaled, a quiet acceptance settling over him. "Fair enough," he said at last, leaning back slightly. "We’ll see what you do with that conviction."

Valtren, watching them all carefully, let out a slow breath before leaning back in his chair at last. His fingers steepled together as he regarded the moment with solemn regard, watching prophecy shift from words to reality before his eyes.

Then, with a slow and deliberate nod, he spoke.

"Very well," he said, his voice carrying a quiet finality. "That will do."

It wasn’t just acceptance, it was an acknowledgment. A change in the room, in the very fabric of what this meeting meant.

Scholar Rellin, barely containing his enthusiasm, nearly rocked on his heels, his excitement momentarily tempered by the gravity of the moment. Scholar Elidren, ever composed, merely gave a small nod, though his sharp eyes lingered on Emily. General Aldric Varos remained silent, his arms clasped behind his back, his features composed, his watchful gaze steady.

Asha, having stayed quiet throughout the exchange, finally spoke. "Seems like we all have our parts to play, then."

"Show them," the Arch Scholar instructed. "Explain where the Guardian of Fire is."

Scholar Rellin sprang forward, his excitement barely contained. The man had dedicated his life to the study of prophecy, to the unraveling of texts that spoke of destiny in uncertain times. And now, standing before him, was undeniable proof that prophecy was not just words in forgotten texts, it was real, breathing, shaping the future before his very eyes.

With great care, he retrieved a parchment from a scroll case and unrolled it across the desk. The map was old, its ink faded in places, the edges curling time tried to claim it. But the markings remained, the symbols etched upon it foretelling events long ago set into motion.

"Aetheria," Rellin announced, his voice rich with reverence, as if he were speaking the name of something sacred. "That is where the Guardian of Fire resides. More specifically, Emberwood Village, a place where the lands had long been scarred by fire and reborn through ash."

"A child," he said, looking up at the gathered crew of the Aetheris, his expression awash with wonder. "A child's heart holds the souls to the flames."

The question now was not what they had to do next, but whether they were strong enough to do it. They knew where The Dark One was going to be, but would it be enough?

Emily hoped so.

Ankit with the optimism only youth could afford, extended his hand to Emily again.

"As I was saying name's Ankit, welcome aboard!"