Prophecy Maker Novels & Stories

They flickered faintly, like a heartbeat that couldn’t decide if it belonged to the living or the dead. “She’s not a program,” he said finally, each word deliberate, as if he needed to feel their weight. “She’s a prophecy.” Delaney’s brow furrowed. “Prophecies belong to the past. We’re building the future.” He straightened, jaw tight enough to crack. “No. You’re feeding the future into a machine that will eat it—and then rewrite it. Prophecies don’t warn you for your sake. They warn you for theirs.” Her breath hitched almost imperceptibly, but she folded her arms to mask it. The server banks clicked softly in the background, a sound like metal cooling after being overheated. That click came

“Sariyah was shadow. Her brother was fire. You are both. And that makes you something new.” I swallowed. “What the hell am I?” Seren stood; her voice hushed. “You are the one the prophecy called the convergence. The one born of flame and shadow. The one who can either save the world… or end it.”

At some point the witches must have heard our prophecy and warped it to meet their own ends. She glared at me. “Don’t call me a liar,” she seethed. “Not you,” I said. “At least, not you, specifically. That isn’t a prophecy about witches. One of your lot must have heard it from us and changed the wording.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s ridiculous,” she replied. “We’ve been sharing this prophecy for generations.” “So have we,” I informed her. “Shifters will be the ones to stop the war. I will stop the war.”

Sarah's POV I could not believe my ears as my mind transformed into a storm of conflicting thoughts. I had long given up on the idea of meeting my mate, even though it was believed that it was inevitable—that one way or another, fated mates would cross paths. I was told that my mate would be the key to curing the chronic illness I had been living with since I was eighteen, according to a healer. However, the news came with a devastating prophecy: I would die within seven years if my mate didn’t mark me. Now, I had only two years left. Two short years before the countdown to my death would hit zero—a fate I had already accepted. Until tonight.

When we were small, a witch named Sybil predicted that my sister would not live past sixteen. Since then, every eye in the family turned toward her. All the love in that house gathered around Aurora and stopped there. Whatever she wanted, whatever she wanted to do, our parents backed her completely. Every scrap of tenderness and every resource they had went to her, while I was left out in the cold, and the things that should have been mine were handed to her too. Even so, I never complained, not once. I knew my sister was someone to be pitied. Then the day of the prophecy came, the day she turned sixteen, and I was the one who ended up poisoned with wolfsbane, of all people, hanging on the e

(Morrigan’s P.O.V) As we were walking back to the house a sudden wave of heat washed over me and my skin began to tingle. Suddenly everything went black, and I felt like I was being shot forward in time. (Vision) “There’s seriously a fucking prophecy about this mutt?! I thought you said there wasn’t anything mentioning a tribrid?!” “Well, I’m sorry Calida but this prophecy was made over a thousand years ago and was one of the last ever made by the Oracle of Alynthi. So, excuse me for not knowing that it existed.”

Keyne asked. “As witches we are told a story, more of a prophecy.” Makenzy said. “How does this prophecy go and how do you know about it Philly?” Felan asked. “Tanner’s daughter and her pack.” Philly said. “It is foretold that 1 day a great creature would be born. A creature that could summon witches of the highest rank with the greatest power to them by sending up a northern beacon of lights.” Philly added.

I shouted at him. He glanced down at me like he hadn’t realised I was still here. “It is the prophecy.” Well, we were in a world of magic and dragons, there was always going to be a prophecy, I guess. I never really understood why, though. If it’s all been foreseen, what’s the point? They always seem to come true. “What is the prophecy, exactly?” “First, the Worm King will rid the land of the jabberwocky menace. Then the Dragonrider will own the sky. Last, the Bride will appear.”

“What do you mean made up?” Wynn stood tall, his piercing eyes scanning the room. “The prophecy was created as a tool,” he explained, his voice firm. “It was designed to calm the factions within your kingdom and ensure that Elle and her mother would come willingly. It was a strategy to avoid an internal war, a way to convince them they had something they could hold onto.” The King’s face darkened, a flash of anger crossing his features. “So you’re telling me that this... prophecy was a lie?” His voice was dangerously soft, and the tension in the room thickened as his brothers waited for an explanation.

Their cryptic prophecies revealed a future fraught with peril, but also the potential for profound transformation. One such prophecy foretold the awakening of the Phoenix Heart, an artifact said to hold the essence of creation itself. This relic, they learned, was scattered across the realm, hidden in the most remote and perilous locations. Asher and Elira took up the quest to assemble the Phoenix Heart, for its power was rumored to be the key to vanquishing ancient evils and renewing the world.