Chapter 8

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"What?!?" Pisces was frozen in place by the transformation, but now she leaped back. "H-how..? W-why..? What is going on?" she finally found the right words to ask her question. 

"I'll explain in a moment," Nebula said. "But first I must meet your friends. I have something to tell all of you. 

"But-" Pisces tried to say, but the Queen of the SpaceWings had already dissolved into the air. 

Pisces didn't know what to do. 

"Um..." she tapped the doctor on the shoulder. 

"What? Oh, you want to be left alone with her?" he smiled. "Sure thing." He left the room. 

"Nebula..?" Pisces asked. The SpaceWing materialized before them. 

"AH- oh my moons..." Orbit trailed off. 

Nebula smiled. 

"I'm Queen Nebula of the SpaceWings," she grinned. 

Celestial sat up in her bed. 

"How are you a queen?" she asked. "You're only a wyrmling, no older than Streak or Pisces over here." 

"Hey!" the protested. 

"Nebula looked down at her talons. "My sister... and mother... they..." 

"It's okay, Your Highness," Tectonic soothed. "We've all lost someone along the way. It's not your fault." 

"But it is!" Nebula cried, covering her head in her talons. Celestial looked disturbed, as she had started this. "The battle of Torchwood... I let them down... it's all my fault!" 

"Oh no! I'm so sorry, Nebula!" Streak wrapped her arms around the queen in a hug. 

"Thanks," Nebula smiled, just the slightest. "Anyways, I have something to show you." she held out a scroll. 

"Oh, my," Pisces gasped. "It's... it's..." she trailed off. 

"A prophecy," Twilight said in wonder. 

"Yes," Nebula said, holding it out for them. "I'll read it for you; 

Good will end and bad will rise,

Unless five wyrmlings turn the tides.

Magic and fire will unite

On the single brightest night.

Born when all the moons are new, 

Ancient magic leaking through. 

The leaders will fight, and one will die, 

Only then can the SpaceWings fly.

"Whoa..." Orbit breathed. "Wait. Five wyrmlings? I've been counting: Me, Streak, Pisces, Twilight, Celestial, Tectonic, and you. That's seven wyrmlings, not five. 

"Hm... I don't know," Nebula said, stroking her chin. "I have to go now, but I'm sure you will figure it out eventually, If you ever really need me, like, if you're dying and you want to say goodbye to me, or you are about to die and you need backup, just call my name and I'll be there ASAP."

"Wait-" Streak tried to say, but Nebula had already disappeared. Again. 

The Seer of Stars (BOOK ONE OF THE SPACEWING PROPHECY)Where stories live. Discover now