Mate 12 - Mysterious Voice

Sage

Morning arrived, the warmth of the sun spilling through the windows did nothing to thaw the cold that had settled deep inside me. My eyes remained fixed on the ceiling, unblinking, as the echoes of last night replayed in my mind. Every word Damien spoke, every cruel syllable, carved itself into my bones like a wound that refused to heal.

A soft knock broke the silence, followed by the hesitant voice of my maid, Lea. “Lady Sage, would you like me to bring you breakfast? You barely ate yesterday.”

I swallowed hard, the mere thought of food was making my stomach twist painfully. “No,” I murmured. “I’m not hungry.”

Lea hesitated, concern evident in the pause before she spoke again, “But, My Lady, you haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon. You’ll feel worse if you don’t—”

“I said no, Lea,” I interrupted, my voice firmer than I intended. Guilt immediately gnawed at me, but I didn’t have the strength to take back my words. “Just . . . leave me be for now.”

A sigh, then a quiet, “As you wish, my lady.”

I heard her footsteps retreat, the door closing behind her. Silence once again filled the room, yet my thoughts continued to scream.

Moments later, another knock came—this time more authoritative. I sat up slightly, my head pounding in protest. The door opened before I could answer, and one of the palace doctors stepped inside, his expression unreadable.

“Lady Sage, we must discuss your condition,” he stated. “Your health is fragile right now. You need to be extra cautious—no skipping meals, no overexertion. You must also drink the prescribed medicine.”

I nodded mechanically, barely absorbing his words. “I understand.”

He studied me for a long moment before sighing. “You may not feel the effects now, but neglecting yourself will only worsen things. Do take care of yourself, My Lady.”

With that, he left. The afternoon came faster than I anticipated. A knock sounded at my door, and this time, I was expecting it.

Elder Hedwig entered, his presence as formidable as ever. “Lady Sage,” he greeted, his tone composed yet knowing. “Are you prepared?”

I rose to my feet, smoothing down the fabric of my gown. “Yes.”

He gestured for me to follow, and together, we made our way to the waiting carriage. The temple in Angentha was our destination, a sacred place where prayers were offered to the moon goddess. A blessing was needed—not just for my health, but for my fate.

The carriage ride was quiet at first, only the steady rhythm of hooves filling the void. But Elder Hedwig eventually broke the silence.

“You must be firm, My Lady,” he said, his voice carrying a weight I couldn’t ignore. “I have a sense that there will be hindrances in your path to securing Lord Damien’s heart. You must be courageous.”

My fingers curled in my lap, the mention of Damien sending an ache through my chest. “I have tried,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “I have done everything in my power, yet he . . . .”

Elder Hedwig sighed. “The prophecy is absolute. He cannot defy fate. The goddess herself has decreed it. No matter how much he resists, he will eventually have no choice but to accept you.”

His words should have comforted me, but they didn’t. Because Damien wasn’t just resisting. He was pushing me away with every ounce of strength he had.

“But,” the elder continued, his tone lowering, “you must be cautious. The empress has been watching you closely. Her gaze on you is sharp—unforgiving.”

I stiffened. “The empress?”

He nodded. “She does not seem pleased by your presence. Whether it is personal or political, I cannot say. But tread carefully, My Lady.”

A new weight settled on my shoulders. The empress had always not liked me. She always saw me as a hindrance to Damien’s love for Rosana. I swallowed hard, gripping the fabric of my dress.

“Understood,” I whispered. “Thank you for telling me.”

Elder Hedwig studied me for a long moment before nodding. “Good. You must stay strong, Lady Sage. This is not just about love. It is about duty.”

Duty. The word felt heavier than ever.

As the grand carriage came to a slow halt before the temple, I took a deep breath, steadying myself. The air here was different—crisp, carrying the scent of aged stone, burning incense, and something faintly magical. The towering structure of the temple loomed before me, its intricate carvings glowing faintly under the golden sunlight. Elders and priestesses of Angentha stood at the entrance, their robes billowing gently in the breeze as they awaited their arrival.

Elder Hedwig stepped forward first, offering me a small nod before addressing the temple’s clergy. “We have come to seek the moon goddess’s blessing for our future luna. May she cleanse herself in the Holy Water and receive the goddess’s guidance.”

The high priestess, a woman with deep-set silver eyes and long flowing robes, gave me a warm yet knowing look. “The holy water will grant clarity, my child. It is tradition for those who are to step into royalty under the Angentha Empire. Come.”

I followed silently, my fingers trembling slightly as I held onto the thick fabric of my ceremonial cloak. As much as I wished to compose myself, the weight of everything pressed onto me like an unbearable burden. My mind was still clouded from the previous night, Damien’s cruel words lingering like poison in my veins. And yet, I had to act as if none of it mattered.

Inside, the temple was grander than I had imagined. Golden pillars lined the marble floor, and murals depicting celestial wolves and moonlit prophecies stretched across the domed ceilings. At the heart of it all lay the holy water—a vast, glistening pool surrounded by glowing runes that pulsed with gentle light. It looked almost otherworldly.

Elder Hedwig gestured toward the water. “You may proceed, child.”

I hesitated for a moment before nodding. With slow, deliberate movements, I removed my ceremonial cloak, letting the silk slip from my shoulders before stepping into the water. The warmth of it surprised me, enveloping my body like an embrace. It was calming, soothing—a stark contrast to the storm raging inside my mind.

I waded deeper, letting the water rise to my waist. The noise of the temple faded away, the soft murmurs of the elders and priestesses growing distant as I reached the heart of the pool. Here, I felt lighter, as if the weight of my sorrows had momentarily loosened its grip. My eyes fluttered shut, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

Then, I submerged myself fully.

Darkness.

Silence.

And then . . . a voice.

“Poor child . . . . How long have you endured this sorrow?”

My eyes shot open. The water around me felt different, as if I was floating in an endless void instead of the temple’s pool. My heart pounded against my ribs as I turned my head sharply. Who spoke?

“You are trapped in a cycle of pain, aren’t you?” The voice was soft, ethereal, almost like a whisper carried by the wind. “Your suffering is not by chance. It is not fate’s will. Someone . . . something has altered your path.”

My breath caught in my throat. Misfortune that was never meant to be mine? What did that mean?

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice barely above a breath.

“A spirit long bound to this sacred place,” the voice murmured. “I have seen many destinies unfold within these waters. But yours . . . it is different. It is shrouded in misfortune that was never meant to be yours.”

I wanted to deny it, to say I was simply unlucky, that I was born to be unwanted, unloved. But deep down, something stirred—a small, whispering doubt that had always been there. Was it truly fate? Or had something twisted my destiny without me knowing?

“You must find the source,” the voice continued, more urgent now. “You must uncover the truth before it is too late.”

I reached forward as if I could grasp the voice itself. “What do you mean? What am I supposed to do? Who did this to me?”

But before the voice could respond, a pair of hands suddenly grabbed my shoulders and pulled me upward.

I gasped as I broke through the water’s surface, my lungs burning as I inhaled sharply. My vision blurred as I blinked rapidly, struggling to focus on the figure before me.

It was the high priestess.

“Lady Sage,” she spoke, concern etched across her features. “Are you alright? We called for you, but you did not answer. You have been submerged for over an hour.”

An hour?

My eyes widened. I turned back toward the water, my mind racing. Had it all been an illusion? A dream? But no—the voice had felt too real, the presence too strong.

“I . . . I’m fine,” I finally managed, though my voice was shaky. “I just . . . lost myself in prayer.”

The priestess gave me a strange look but nodded nonetheless. “Come, let’s get you dressed. The elders are waiting to begin your blessing.”

I struggled to steady my breath. “Did you hear it?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “The voice. It spoke to me. It said . . . it said I’m cursed. That I need to find the cause of my suffering.”

The priestess exchanged a concerned glance with another woman. “What voice?” she asked, her expression unreadable. “The holy water does not speak.”

I clenched my fists, frustration bubbling within me. “I’m not imagining it. Someone—something—was there. It wasn’t just in my mind.”

The priestess frowned but shook her head. “If the goddess wished to speak with you, she would have done so through the oracle. No one else has heard anything.”

I swallowed hard. Could it have been my imagination? No. It felt too real, too vivid to be a dream. But if even the priestesses didn’t know what it was, who would?

Shaking, I allowed them to help me out of the pool. My body felt weak, drained, as if the voice had taken something from me. They wrapped me in a thick robe and led me to a small chamber where I could change into dry clothes.

But the words still echoed in my mind.

My suffering was not by chance. Someone had altered my fate. And I needed to find out who.

Elder Hedwig waited outside when I emerged, his sharp eyes scanning me. “You look pale. Did something happen?”

I hesitated, unsure if I should tell him about the voice. But if the priestesses didn’t understand it, would he? 

“No,” I lied. "Just . . . tired."

He studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Come. The blessing ceremony awaits.”

I followed him down the long halls of the temple, my thoughts spinning in a storm of uncertainty. What if that voice was right? What if my suffering wasn’t just fate but something orchestrated? And if so . . . by who?

As the priestesses chanted their prayers over me, blessing me with sacred incense and symbols of protection, I bowed my head, my lips forming silent words of my own.

Please, moon goddess. If you can hear me, show me the truth.

Because I was beginning to fear that my destiny was not as simple as I had been told.