Moon Blessed

Chapter 49 ~ Ultimatum

Sights and sounds blew around her, carried on treacherous waves of starlight. They jumbled together, mixing scenes that she knew didn't belong with one another. There were Saints and Knights. Blood and frost. Swords and poems.

She caught a glimpse of a throne room, and thought she saw herself standing next to the throne, staring across the room at two other figures. One wore a crown, and the other was trapped with a dagger at their throat. The scene vanished in a flash of light and darkness, leaving only echoing screams and fateful warnings in its wake.

"Your purpose will soon be revealed and you will be set upon your final path. Be it heroism or martyrdom, as those who came before you."

"Sometimes it is better not to know our destiny, so that we may unknowingly guide ourselves towards it. If we knew our fates, I think we all would've done what we could to prevent them from happening."

"While the first who bore your name may have been called Blessed, I'm afraid you, Princess, may one day be called Nastasia the Cursed."

"Be wary, Princess. The mountains tremble in fear of something yet to come, and the stars weep for the Blessed."

Pain spasmed through her abdomen and a groan escaped her lips. She fell to her knees, wrapping an arm around her waist though it didn't ease the pain. Tears beaded beneath her eyelashes and a few managed to fall before a faint glimmer of light caught her attention.

Gentle fingers lifted her chin, guiding her moonlit gaze to a matching set. At the look of remorse in the Saint's features, her tears fell anew. "Is this my fate?" She asked. "Was this my purpose all along? To do my best but die before I've even done anything of value?"

"No, dear one, though for your sake I wish it was."

"What do you mean?"

A small smile lifted the corners of the Saint's lips and she knelt, meeting her at eye level. "You have a purpose, Nastasia, and you will know what it is when the time is right. But the Goddess has granted me permission to give you this knowledge."

"What you have yet to do is the very reason we were created in the first place. So that you could come to be, and exist when a Saint is most needed. I was the first of our line, and you will be the last."

"The last? What do you mean the last?"

"That is not for me to share. Take comfort in what I have spoken, and remember your courage, Child. You will need it in days to come." The words had scarcely left her mouth when the Saint began to fade from sight.

"Wait!" She reached for the Saint, but her hand passed through a cloud of stardust. "Please! What am I supposed to do? What's going to happen to me? Help me!"

•༻᯽༺•

She lurched awake with a scream and found herself instantly surrounded by a group of people. Her chest seized and breath fled from her lungs. Three Mages stooped over her, their tattooed fingers skimming over her brow and down to her stomach, while her parents hovered at her bedside. Maria Yensev stood at the foot of her bed and the Dwarf Queen was seated on a chair nearby.

Nastasia's gaze darted back to the Mages who were still examining her. They were much too close. She couldn't move. There were too many people surrounding her. Too many pairs of eyes watching her. Too much. It was all too much.

Silent tears dripped down her cheeks and try as she might, she couldn't force a sound from her throat to ask her observers to move. Panic welled up within her chest, choking the remaining air from her lungs. She tried to suck down a breath but to no avail.