A Promised Prophecy

Chapter Three

While I didn't stay in touch with Celeste as much as I should have, I did uphold my promise, and I wasn't about to change that now.

"When are you going?" I asked Ophelia, hoping for enough time to think of a convincing excuse. Although Celeste and I didn't communicate as frequently, I still held our mentor-mentee relationship in high regard. I had promised her on that day that I'd never set foot in Dreadshade Summit, and I intended to keep that promise.

That's part of the reason prophecies are funny things. They're not genuine. Unless the prophet hails from Silverleaf, they are mere concoctions by individuals with enough internet access to research the paying client's desires. What follows is not a consequence of the prophecy itself but rather people taking actions aligned with it because they believe in it. They've got nothing to lose when they think the best will happen. And more often than not, it does. That's why no one has caught on to the shit prophets and people just believe that some prophecies are stronger than others. They remain oblivious to the fact that prophecies don't work that way.

"The pot is bigger the sooner we go. I'm thinking about heading out tomorrow."

I already had plans to meet up with someone and, knowing Ophelia, she'd have this resolved by the time I got home. Thankfully, I didn't have to lie to her. "Tomorrow? I'm getting lunch, but if you're not home by dinner I'll come find you."

"Oh, that's right. The cute guy from the gym? You can call it a date, you know." She shimmied her shoulders while taking a swig of wine straight from the bottle.

"I'm not calling it a date because I don't know if I want to date him." I finally put my phone down. "Besides, he seems to be flirty with every girl, and I'm twenty-eight. I'm too old for a fuckboy. I need someone I can settle down with, not just settle down with someone who is attractive."

"He is pretty hot."

"So hot."

"So, if it's good, you'll call it a date, and if it's bad, you'll deny it ever happened?" She smiled at me. I didn't think I was that obvious, but Ophelia saw right through me.

"One hundred percent."

"I knew it. Well, you better mean that you'll come after me if I'm not home by dinner. I want to hear all about your date." She emphasized the word, insinuating that she hoped it would go well.

"I appreciate optimism, and I promise. If you aren't home by five tomorrow, I'll come find you myself."