Embers to Flames (Fates Entwined #1)

Chapter Twenty-Four

I make my way towards the trio of Witches; their hoods fall back to reveal wrinkled faces and beady eyes fixed on me. The first witch clears her throat before speaking, her gravelly voice echoing throughout the cavernous hall.

“You have impressed us, Princess,” she begins. “You have nobly earned the right to know what it is you seek.”

The second witch gracefully steps forward, fingers delicately twirling through the air. With each movement, ethereal images materialize. “Your mother,” she begins in a hushed tone, “comes from a rare lineage—both witch and Human blood running through her veins, embodying the union of magic and mortality.” As she speaks, a shimmering figure in the shape of a woman takes form before them, emanating an otherworldly glow and radiating a sense of powerful yet compassionate energy.

The third witch’s voice echoes through the clearing; her words laced with an ancient power. “And your father,” she says, her eyes glowing, “an Elf of the ancient woodlands, he bears the legacy of the forest in his veins.” As she spoke, an image materialized before them—a stately Elf with sharp, ethereal features and a crown of leaves adorning his brow. His presence is both regal and wild.

The Witches’ voices grow soft, yet they carry the weight of destiny. “The Fire Rites,” they begin in solidarity, “a ceremony of ancient power, marked the transformation of your essence from Human to Elf.” The hall fills with the warmth of a remembered flame, the air tinged with the scent of sacred embers. “The Rites were not merely a change of form,” the second witch continues, “but an awakening. It was during this hallowed conflagration that the truth of your souls were revealed.” Images of firelight flicker in the air, casting a glow upon Theo and me, our figures encircled by a dance of flames.

The third witch speaks, her voice a melody of intertwined fates. “Amidst the blaze, the bond between you and Theo was forged, not by chance, but by design. Two souls, destined to entwine.”

The vision shows us reaching for each other, our hands meeting within the heart of the fire, a symbol of unity and purpose. The Witches stand, their presence commanding the space. “Your union, blessed by the Fire Rites, will bring forth a child of four worlds. A quartet of magic flows within you—the ancient wisdom of Witches, the grace of Elves, and the fierce strength of Dragon shifters.”

The hall echoes with the promise of what is to come. “This child shall stand at the crossroads of all beings, a beacon of hope and a harbinger of change. The threads of their destinies are woven by the hands of fate yet guided by the love and choices you make.”

Benalith. Meemaw’s handwriting.

I look to the Witches, their eyes reflecting a future filled with promise and peril. “I understand,” I say, my voice steady with new-found resolve. “I will embrace this destiny, for the sake of all. What can you tell me about Mikyl? Is he alive? Was it Prince Ruvyn who ambushed his transport?”

The Raven Witches, with their eyes like dark pools of foresight, turn to one another, a silent conversation passing between them. Then, the first witch speaks, her voice a low hum that fills the chamber.

“Mikyl, the one you seek, is indeed alive,” she says, and the relief that floods through me is palpable, a physical force that loosens the tight grip of fear around my heart. “His essence flickers in the realm of the living, a flame resilient against the darkness.”

The second witch rises, her hands casting shadows that dance across the walls. “He was taken, not by chance, but by a force driven by envy and a desire for power. Prince Ruvyn, the name you utter, is but a pawn in a greater game, a piece moved by hands unseen.”

The third witch’s gaze pierces through me, seeing truths that lie buried deep within. “Mikyl’s fate is entwined with yours, a tapestry woven with threads of love, betrayal, and destiny. He waits for you in a place obscured by spells and silence, a fortress hidden from eyes unseeing.”

Their words hang heavy in the air, a decree of hope and a map to the journey ahead. Mikyl is out there, somewhere beyond the reach of ordinary means, held captive by forces that seek to use him as leverage in a war of shadows.

“There is more,” the Witches say in unison. “Your ancestral roots will come together to unlock mystical abilities that will be revealed as you continue to fulfill your destiny.”

The first witch steps forward, “Within you lies the power of Translocation,” she continues, “the ability to traverse the fabric of space, to move from one location to another in but a heartbeat.” She demonstrates, her form blurring and reappearing at the opposite end of the hall. “This is your birthright, a gift from the witch lineage.”

The second witch raises her hand, and the candles’ flames become motionless, suspended in perfect stillness. “Temporal Stasis,” she intones, “a power to halt the flow of time around you. With a thought, you can freeze the world, rendering all into statues of silence.” The flames resume their dance as she lowers her hand, the demonstration clear and potent .

The third witch steps forward, her eyes alight with an inner fire. “And from the depths of your spirit comes the force of Arcane Detonation.” With a snap of her fingers, a nearby vase shatters into a cloud of dust, its molecules dispersed by her will. “To speed the essence of matter until it rends apart, a power both destructive and definitive.”

The Witches gather close, their presence wrapping me in a shroud of mysticism. “These powers are yours to wield,” they say as one, “but with great power comes the need for control. Mastery of these gifts will require discipline, for the consequences of their misuse are dire.”

I nod, the gravity of their words settling upon me like a mantle. I feel the stirrings of these new abilities within, a wellspring of magic waiting to be tapped. With the guidance and support of Theo, I will learn to harness these powers and use them to shape our destiny, to protect those I love, and to confront the challenges that await.

“You are not alone on this journey,” the first witch intones, her voice a soothing melody amidst the storm of uncertainty. “Trust in your inner strength and in the bond you share with your fated mate, for together you are formidable.”

With the wisdom of the Raven Witches echoing in my mind, Eulee and I step out of the temple’s ancient doors. The world outside seemingly unchanged, yet I feel a shift within me, a new alignment with the forces of magic and destiny.

Closing my eyes, I reach out with my mind, the threads of soulspeak weaving through the ether, seeking Theo. “We are safe,” I convey, the words not spoken but felt, a ripple across the bond that connects us.

The response is immediate, a warm presence that envelops my thoughts like a comforting embrace . “I await your return,” Theo replies, his relief and love cascading through the connection, a beacon guiding us home.