Hope.

The snow princess looked to River like she was starlight glowing up the end of a tunnel. This wasn’t the first time. A young U’tu and wide-eyed Lei’la had looked to her the same way. And she vowed to never let them down.

Her heart sank. Tears flowing freely from her cheeks to Maksim’s charred ones.

Maksim had given her hope.

And what did she do? Brushed him off. What he had offered seemed too good to be true. Too pure for someone so undeserving like her.

River was used to brushing off feelings that burst out inside her. It came with puberty. Suddenly, she was too over-emotional and over-sensitive. It took a lot of work but she finally was able to brush off the overwhelming things inside her that will invite bad comments. However, there are things that remained. Things she couldn’t tell anyone. Resentment. Jealousy and bitterness. It sits inside her like a burning lump of coal, refusing to go out. Sometimes, it was the only thing keeping her alive. She had grown loyal to it, possessive even. This huge burning lump inside her chest. It was hers. Her mess. Her chaos. It was something she called truly her own.

So when Maksim had sparked beautiful things inside her at the apple orchard, she writhed away from it like a vampire hissing at holy light. What would she become if she didn’t have the darkness she had been holding onto for most of her life? Without it, what she would have left?

Vella Kiniste Mue. She felt it snapped moments before. Like someone had torn off a limb.

Lann’a shook her shoulders, “Come on. Do it now! My viper says he can only hold onto to so much time. Any minute now this man will be gone for good.”

“You care so much for him? When you haven’t even met him.”

She looked down at Maksim. “He is just like me. I know it.” Her blue-diamond eyes scanned his figure from top to bottom. “Stronger. His is the kind of body that can take on a tribal corruption, our curse. He must be built for it, trained for it. Like a prince. He can take it.”

River shook her head. “No more curses.” This man doesn’t deserve it.

Vella Kiniste Mue.

Meeting of the minds.

She remembered a brief moon prayer by Na’reem, focused on it then kissed his forehead, resting a palm over it and willed herself to search for any traces within him, hoping against all hope that he was still alive.

“How is it?” she heard Lann’a say. To her surprise, the sound of her voice carried like a cavernous echo. Distant but resounding.

Maksim! She called out to him in mind-speak, repeating it again ever so louder each time.

There.

She felt a slight conscience. A stir of energy that vaguely resembled the man before.

“I sense him.”

She nodded, “I’ll go grab the healers.”

“No.” she stopped her, then stared at Me’ren across the pier. She knew what she had to do. There was a faint emotion under the layer of emptiness. And she knew just what it took to access it. To guide it home.

As if the past oracle knew she needed something, he winded towards her, kneeling down to level his gaze “What do you need, behagthi?”

“Show me the prophecy.”

At once, the information flooded into her own memory. It was similar to the prophecy from the previous universe. But this one.. the ancient words were seared with remembering, a knowledge unlocked that resided somewhere deep in her bones. When she said it out loud, it was as if the ancient words found their way home like it was meant only for her. Only for her to sing.

Witness, burn and blast. Unveil the princes whose bindings keep them hidden under a darkened sky. Let there be the moon glowing through the secret veils. Come, emerge and dance upon the sunken ground. Raise the enormous past. See how deep the place from which life flows.

As if that wasn’t enough, the first language suddenly made sense. As if she had been the first to speak it in ancient past.

Vibi’lia. An’athra. Van’adis. Binding words that push and pulled cosmic forces together.

And a deeper secret word no one else dare to say. For fear of greater consequences. Dare she say it?

Under her palms, a vibrating pressure started to buzz off Maksim’s skin. A shunting of energy pulsing beneath her fingertips.

“Chant with me” she said to Me’ren and Lann’a.

They droned off the prophecy like a prayer, repeating its sentiment as though it empowered it the more it got focused on.

U’tu, she said reaching him across the distance into the wildlands settlement. This is an emergency. Send all available healers at the pier in Lumino lake. Send Lei’la, too. If she is able.

Not even a minute has passed before a gathering of children healers appeared along with their guiding mentor, El’rra who paled upon seeing them “He’s dead. How do you—” then she stopped, mouth hanging ajar.

There was a surrounding tension buzzing in the air. Like a heavyweight of humidity. A stuffy breeze that made it hard-pressed for anyone to breathe without thorough effort.

“El’rra, join us. Please.” River implored to her.

The elder healer’s chest heaved from the exertion to breathe, the air thick and heavy.

“Venemundo.” She finally begged. An ancient first language word that breathed life into the air, transforming from stuffy to a powerful crisp breeze that fills the lungs in a moment’s pass. “Venemundo.” Repeating it made the surroundings brighten with a glow of glittering stars. Everyone momentarily dazzled and stunned by it. Dark tribe children healers gasping and cheering when the light bent to their movements as if it had a life on its own.

“Who are you?” El’rra questioned, an accusing glare on her face and in her pocket she pulled a small knife.

River glanced down at the knife then back at her, “Please. I just want to help my friend.”

“Your friend is dead. There is no coming back after that.”