Chapter 55: Blood and Bone

Ivy couldn't stop staring at the mark. It pulsed softly under her skin, giving off a heat that wasn’t painful—just deeply unnatural. Her fingers trembled as she traced the faint outline. Light and shadow coiled in perfect balance like they were waiting for a command.

“What does it mean?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Asher didn’t answer immediately. His eyes were glued to the symbol, horror mingling with realization in his features.

“It’s a prophecy,” he said at last. “One that’s been hidden for generations. Only high-ranking members of the inner council knew it existed.”

Ivy’s chest rose and fell rapidly. “You knew about it all this time?”

He shook his head. “Not everything. Just fragments. My father told me a story when I was young—about a child born of dual bloodlines, marked by the Seer who died trying to prevent the rise of darkness.”

“And you think that’s… this?” Ivy asked, gesturing toward her belly.

“I don’t just think it,” he said grimly. “I know it.”

They sat in silence for a while, Ivy curled up on the couch, Asher pacing back and forth. The storm outside picked up, rain slamming against the cabin’s tin roof, lightning flashing just enough to make the shadows inside dance.

Finally, Ivy broke the silence. “Why would they want to hide the prophecy? Why raise this child if they fear what she could become?”

Asher turned to her, jaw tight. “Because they want to control her. The mark isn’t just a sign—it’s a seal. If she’s born with it, and it remains unbroken, she’ll inherit not just our combined strengths—but something much older. Something tied to the original bloodlines. That’s what Elias and Seraphina are trying to unlock—or suppress.”

“But what happens if it breaks?” Ivy asked.

He paused. “Then she chooses.”

Ivy blinked. “Chooses what?”

“Whether to save the bloodline… or destroy it.”

A gust of wind slammed the window open, and they both jumped.

A shadow moved just outside the cabin. Asher moved fast, pulling Ivy behind him, his hand reaching for the small handgun he’d kept strapped to his ankle since their escape.

The door creaked.

Then—

A knock.

Three slow, deliberate taps.

Asher edged toward the door and flung it open.

No one.

Just darkness.

But then a voice floated from the edge of the forest, soft and melodic.

“The child is not what you think.”

Ivy’s spine stiffened.

“Who’s there?” Asher called.

A figure stepped out from the trees, cloaked and hooded, face concealed by a silver veil.

“I mean you no harm,” the stranger said. “But time is running short. The others are coming.”

Asher raised the gun. “Why should we trust you?”

The figure didn’t flinch. “Because if you don’t… the child will die.”

They let the stranger inside, but Asher didn’t lower the gun. The woman removed her hood but kept the veil, revealing long dark braids and a scar down the side of her neck that looked like it had been carved by fire.

“My name is Neris,” she said. “I was once like Elias. A Keeper of the Seal.”

Ivy narrowed her eyes. “Then you were part of them.”

“I was,” Neris replied. “Until I saw what they did to the last mother who carried the mark. She never made it to term.”

Asher stiffened. “You’re saying they killed her?”

“No,” Neris whispered. “The power inside her consumed her. She went mad. And when the child was born, it was already too late. It was taken. Hidden. No one knows if it survived.”

Ivy held her stomach, a surge of protectiveness washing over her. “That’s not going to happen to me.”

“That’s why I came,” Neris said. “Because your child is different. The mark isn’t just a symbol—it’s awakening early. That means she’s more powerful. And more dangerous.”

Asher clenched his jaw. “Then tell us how to protect her.”

Neris hesitated, then pulled out a small crystal vial filled with a shimmering red liquid. “This will delay the mark from fully activating. It will buy you a few days—but after that, she’ll need to be born. And when she is… you must take her to the Source.”

“What source?” Ivy asked.

Neris looked at them, solemn. “The place where the prophecy began. Bloodstone Hill.”

As dawn broke, Neris was gone. No trace of her—just the vial left on the table and a cryptic message scratched into the wooden floorboards:

"One of you is not who they seem."

Ivy stared at the message, the words sinking deep into her chest like an anchor.

“What does that mean?” she whispered.

Asher didn’t answer.

Because he didn’t know.

But in the distance, beyond the fog, someone was watching. A man cloaked in grey, his face scarred, holding a piece of torn fabric from Ivy’s robe.

He turned to the man beside him.

“She’s accelerating,” he said.

The second figure, hidden in shadows, nodded. “Then we move in. Tonight.”

That evening, Ivy clutched her belly as the child stirred again—more violently this time.

“Asher!” she cried out.

He ran to her side as she doubled over, the mark on her skin flaring with blinding light.

A new pattern formed within it—an hourglass.

And with it… a voice echoed in her mind:

“You have seven days.”