After a mont of silence and their farewell to Angelina ended, Oceana, with her role as the now matriarch, stepped forward. She looked at Jaegar, and said, "Now, with the matters settled, it's ti to decide about him."
Jaegar had been sitting on the bed and watching them. He was able to see just how much Angelina ant to them. Even after knowing the truth about her, they still respected her and cared about her. The bond, between them, was unbreakable, a testimony to their love towards her.
These won had, before entering the spire, all suffered ridicule and hatred and now stood as one in the spire, as a strong coven. It was all because of Angelina, and it was evident on their faces.
Jaegar sighed deeply, thinking just how much he learnt today. A lot of things happened, and it was making him dizzy already.
Ocean continued, her voice steady but laced with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. "We all know the prophecy," she began, her gaze shifting from the council to her mother. Even after knowing everything, even if she was not the matriarch, they still treated her as one. "The one who enters the labyrinth is the child destined for the heavens."
She paused, letting the words hang in the air, then turned her attention back to Angelina, who stood in the centre of the hall, her expression unreadable. "But, Mother," Ocean continued, her tone more probing now, "this prophecy... wasn't it created by the old witches of the Coven at that ti? It wasn't sothing prophesized by the gods, was it? From what I've learnt, those witches couldn't even get past the walls of the labyrinth themselves. They eventually gave up trying."
The prophecy in doubt was created decades, maybe centuries ago. They were sceptical about it, as they weren't sure about the outco of the prophecy. And the role of spire in the prophecy. One thing, they were clear about was that whatever the prophecy was, it shouldn't end up in the hands of n. That was the sole reason why the spire was built on the labyrinth. But now, it ended up in the hands of a man.
Angelina's lips tightened at the ntion of the prophecy. She had heard it countless tis, passed down through the ages, whispered in the sacred halls of the Spire. But as Ocean's question hung in the air, the room filled with the tension between myth and truth, between what was believed and what could be proven.
"The distinction between prophecies made by gods and those made by mortals has always been a blurry line," Angelina finally said, her voice calm but firm. "True prophecies, those woven into the fabric of fate, cannot be unravelled or altered. They are made by forces beyond our understanding—beings that watch over the realms, gods who have seen the threads of destiny long before they are spun. These prophecies are fate-made, inevitable, and unchangeable."
She glanced around the room, her gaze sweeping across the council, the witches, and finally resting on Oceana. "But there are also man-made prophecies, those spoken in the heat of desperation, born from the desires and hopes of those who make them. These are crafted by humans, or even witches, to explain what they cannot comprehend or to forge a sense of purpose when none exists. They are neither divinely guided nor anchored in truth. Often, they fall apart, proving nothing more than the product of fear, ambition, or wishful thinking."
Ocean nodded slightly, acknowledging the difference between the two kinds of prophecies. The distinction had always fascinated her—how so things were set in stone, while others were malleable, driven by the hands of mortals who sought to control their own fate.
"And the prophecy of the labyrinth?" Ocean asked, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Is it a fate-made prophecy, or was it crafted by those old witches?"
Angelina hesitated, her gaze distant as if considering sothing deeply. "It may be true," she admitted softly. "Or it may be nothing more than a tale spun by witches who were too proud to admit they couldn't conquer the labyrinth. The truth is, no one knows for certain."
The room fell silent at her words, the weight of the uncertainty hanging heavy in the air. The labyrinth had been a mystery for centuries, a place few had dared to venture into, and even fewer had returned from. Its secrets had been guarded, not only by the Coven but by ti itself.
"But," Angelina continued, her voice gaining strength, "one thing I do believe is true. Jaegar... he may indeed be the child destined for the heavens." Her eyes flickered with conviction as she spoke, the old prophecy swirling in her mind. "There is sothing about him. Sothing that even I, with all my years of experience, cannot fully grasp."
"Even the divinations hall couldn't really find anything about Jaegar and his uncertain future." This statent made everyone in the hall surprised. Divination Hall was sothing far more greater and powerful when it cos to the past, present, and future. And if they weren't sure about Jaegar, then it ans he sure wasn't normal.
The room fell into stunned silence as the words sank in. Even the faint crackling of the torches seed to quieten as if the very air in the Spire had frozen in anticipation of the revelation.
"The Divinations Hall couldn't really find anything about Jaegar's future?" One of the older witches, Matilda, whispered in disbelief. Her eyes, wide with shock, darted between Oceana and the other council mbers. "How is that possible? The Divinations Hall has foreseen wars, plagues, and the rise and fall of kingdoms. If they cannot read his future, then…"
She trailed off, her voice trembling as the gravity of the situation settled over the room. The Divinations Hall was known throughout the Empire as the pinnacle of prophetic magic. Its oracles had peered into the deepest recesses of ti, unravelling the mysteries of both the past and the future with uncanny accuracy. For centuries, it had been the place where witches and kings sought answers, guided by its ability to see what lay ahead.
For the Hall to be unable to predict Jaegar's fate was unthinkable.
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