Chapter 13: The River That Whispers

The forest behind us was quiet, but not dead. The ashes still carried heat. Every time the wind changed, it smelled like smoke and iron.

Revan walked ahead with his shoulders tight, still limping but pretending he wasn’t. Jordan followed a few steps behind me, eyes always scanning the trees. No one said much. We were too tired, too unsure of what waited ahead.

The river ran beside us, pale under the morning light. It whispered against the rocks like it wanted to tell a secret.

I broke the silence first. “The creature said the temple would find us. What does that even mean?”

Revan didn’t turn. “It means it’s not a place on a map. It’s old magic. It reveals itself only when it wants to.”

Jordan muttered, “Convenient.”

“It kept the gods hidden for a thousand years,” Revan said. “Convenient is the point.”

They started to argue again, soft at first, like they were trying to keep their voices down for me. I ignored them and focused on the sound of the water. It calmed me, even when nothing else did.

My arm still glowed faintly beneath my sleeve. Sometimes it pulsed like a heartbeat; sometimes it was quiet. I didn’t know if that meant the power was resting or watching.

We stopped when we reached a shallow bend. Revan knelt beside the water, filled his hand, and drank. His reflection trembled on the surface. I saw the exhaustion in his face, the shadows under his eyes.

Jordan passed him a strip of cloth. “You’re bleeding again.”

“It’ll stop.”

“It won’t if you keep pretending you’re fine.”

Revan gave him a look that said enough. Jordan sighed and turned away.

I sat on a flat rock, watching them both. I wanted to say something that made the tension disappear, but there was nothing left to say.

Finally, Jordan broke the silence. “You should rest, Lora. You’ve barely slept.”

“I can’t.”

He sat beside me anyway. “You’ll fall apart if you don’t.”

“Maybe I already have.”

He didn’t smile. “You haven’t. I’ve seen you broken. This isn’t that.”

I looked at him. “You talk like you still know me.”

“I do.”

I shook my head. “Not anymore.”

He was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, “I know what I did can’t be undone. But I still love you. I think I always will.”

The words hit harder than I expected. Not because I didn’t believe him, but because part of me still wanted to.

Revan’s voice cut through the moment. “We’re moving.”

Jordan stood and walked away first. I stayed seated a moment longer, watching the river again. The light danced on its surface, soft and gold.

When I finally stood, the sound changed.

It wasn’t the wind this time. It was something under the water.

Revan turned, sensing it too. “Stay back.”

A ripple moved across the surface, slow at first, then faster. The river began to glow faintly, the same color as the marks on my arm.

Jordan pulled his blade. “What is that?”

Before Revan could answer, the glow rose out of the water. It wasn’t light exactly—it was liquid and alive. It twisted upward, taking shape, forming the outline of a woman.

Her hair flowed like water, her eyes clear and silver. When she spoke, her voice sounded like the river itself.

“You walk toward what you don’t yet understand.”

Revan stepped forward. “Who are you?”

“The one who remembers.” Her eyes turned to me. “You carry what was lost.”

I felt cold. “The flame?”

She nodded. “It’s growing too fast. You must learn control, or it will consume you and the child.”

My voice shook. “How?”

Her gaze softened. “When the moon rises, follow where the water breaks against the stone. The path will open.”

Revan frowned. “The temple?”

She smiled faintly. “It waits for her. But not for you.”

Before we could ask anything else, the water folded in on itself. The figure sank back into the river and vanished. The glow faded like it had never been there.

Jordan exhaled slowly. “I hate magic.”

Revan looked at me. “When the moon rises, we follow the current.”

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure my legs could carry me that far.

The rest of the day passed quietly. The trees thinned as we followed the river north. The land rose gently, hills rolling into the distance. Every so often, I felt that faint heartbeat again. Each time it came, it was stronger.

When night fell, we stopped in a small clearing. The moon hadn’t risen yet, but its light glowed faintly on the horizon.

Jordan built a fire. Revan sat beside it, sharpening his blade. The air between them stayed thick and heavy.

I sat apart from them, listening to the river. My thoughts wouldn’t quiet.

Everything was changing too fast. The power inside me felt alive, restless, like something was waiting to be set free.

Revan broke the silence. “When this is over, what will you do?”

I looked at him. “You talk like we’ll survive it.”

He met my eyes. “We will. I promised you that.”

Jordan laughed quietly. “You can’t promise something like that.”

Revan’s jaw tightened. “I can try.”

Jordan stared into the fire. “That’s what gets people killed.”

“Maybe,” Revan said. “But it’s also what keeps them alive long enough to matter.”

The fire popped. No one spoke again for a while.

When the moon finally rose, the air shifted. The water glowed silver.

Revan stood first. “It’s time.”

I followed him to the riverbank. The current shimmered, running faster now. I stepped closer, and the water pulled toward me, splitting around my feet even before I touched it.

Jordan whispered, “That’s not normal.”

I looked at Revan. “Do we go in?”

He nodded once. “You lead. We follow.”

The moment my foot touched the water, warmth spread through me. The glow from my arm brightened until it lit the river like daylight.

The current wrapped around us, gentle but strong. The deeper we went, the quieter everything became. The air itself seemed to hold its breath.

Then the riverbed dropped away.

We fell into darkness.

The water didn’t feel cold or wet. It felt like air and memory, thick and heavy. I couldn’t see the others, but I could hear their voices faintly behind me.

Then the current carried me forward faster, pulling me away from them.

“Revan,” I shouted. “Jordan.”

No answer.

The light from my arm flared, and suddenly I wasn’t in the river anymore.

I stood on stone steps inside a vast chamber. The air was warm, the walls covered in carvings that moved like living shadows. A faint glow came from a circle in the center of the room.

A woman stood there. Not Aria. Not the creature from before. Someone older.

She wore a crown of light and looked at me with eyes that knew too much.

“Lora,” she said softly.

I froze. “How do you know my name?”

“I gave it to you.”

My chest tightened. “That’s not possible.”

“It is. I have watched you since the first flame was born. You are the balance that was promised.”

“The balance?”

“The world has leaned too far into blood and power. You were meant to bring it back.”

I shook my head. “I don’t even understand what I am.”

She smiled sadly. “You will. But not yet.”

“What is this place?”

“The beginning,” she said. “And the end.”

The circle of light in the center pulsed. “When the moon is full, you will stand here again. Then you will choose which world burns.”

Before I could ask what she meant, the light around her grew too bright.

I felt the pull again, the rush of water, and then I was back on the riverbank. Revan’s hands were on my shoulders, his voice urgent. “Lora. Look at me.”

I gasped, my clothes soaked, my skin glowing faintly.

Jordan stood beside him, drenched but alive. “What happened?”

I looked at them both, still shaking. “I saw her.”

“Who?” Revan asked.

“The Moon Goddess.”

Jordan’s face went pale. “That’s not possible.”

“She said I have to choose,” I whispered.

Revan’s eyes searched mine. “Choose what?”

I swallowed hard, the words barely leaving my lips.

“Which world burns.”

The wind rose again, carrying the scent of rain and smoke. The moonlight shimmered across the river like a warning.

For the first time, I was sure of one thing.

Whatever was coming, it had already begun.