Page 9 of His Darkest Devotion

Lumeria raises a hand for silence. “We willnotprovoke widespread destruction to achieve safety. Our priority is protecting the Purna line, ensuring our survival. We cannot do so by fueling more conflict.” She glances at me. “Elira, if you truly are key to the prophecy, we must tread carefully. One misstep could unleash horrors we are ill-prepared to face.”

The weight of their expectations crushes my lungs. The entire coven stands in an arc around the dais, every gaze fixated on me, the supposed harbinger of salvation or doom. My heart pounds so loudly I can barely hear. My mouth opens, but no words emerge—panic seizes my tongue, an icy clamp on my throat.

At that moment, Olyssia appears at my side, her hand sliding around my elbow as if sensing I’m on the verge of collapsing. She murmurs reassuringly, “Breathe, Elira. Just breathe.”

I manage a shallow inhale. The presence of my friend grounds me a little. My vision, however, spins with the knowledge that gargoyles could soon rampage across Protheka—beings that harbor an ancient, visceral hatred for purnas like me. And now, I’m told I might have the power to either seal them once more or free them entirely.

When I finally find my voice, it’s shaky. “Matriarch, I— I don’t know if I can handle this. I barely understand my Space-Time magic. You’ve all seen how unpredictable my transformations can be. What if I… I make things worse?”

A hush follows. Some watch me with pity, others with cold calculation. Nerissa’s lips twist as if my fear confirms her suspicions that I’m unfit to wield such responsibility. Lumeria’s brows knit in empathy. “That is exactly why we must be cautious. You will not face this alone, Elira. The coven will guide you. But we can’t ignore the signs.”

Nerissa steps forward, her stare drilling into me. “And if Elira’s presence proves more of a danger than a blessing? What then?”

Heat pricks my cheeks. A flicker of defiance sparks in my chest. I might be terrified, but I’m no helpless child. “I’m not out to doom anyone,” I say in a tight voice. “I want to protect our people. But I won’t be your puppet. I will find a way to control my magic… or I’ll die trying.”

Murmurs spread through the onlookers at the quiet conviction in my tone. I glimpse Olyssia’s approving nod. Lumeria offers a kind smile. “That is the resolve we need. For now, I will ask you to remain in the coven. Train with the elders. Learn to harness your abilities. We must be ready for what’s coming.”

A pang twists my stomach. Just earlier, she encouraged me to leave, gather information, see the outside world. Now she wants to keep me here, presumably for more direct supervision. The abrupt shift unsettles me. But I can’t deny the logic. If I’m truly central to this prophecy, gallivanting around the countryside half-trained might be a recipe for disaster—especially if the Red Purnas are sniffing around for an opportunity to exploit my magic.

I nod stiffly. “Understood.”

Lumeria inclines her head, relief momentarily crossing her face. But before she can dismiss everyone, a new figure pushes through the crowd—a younger Purna wearing a battered cloak. Her hair is tangled, and she looks like she’s run the entire way. She gasps, “Matriarch… there’s a messenger from the lowland villages. Something about… about Dark Elf sightings in the passes. They’ve begun scouring the foothills. Possibly for a Purna.”

A spear of alarm jolts through me. My thoughts dart to Jonas, to the battered outpost. Did the Dark Elves show up after I left, hunting for purnas? My breath accelerates. I sense a collective ripple of fear among the Purnas. Even the Red faction looks unsettled by the idea that Dark Elves might be actively searching the mountains.

Lumeria’s knuckles tighten on her staff. “We cannot risk direct confrontation. Everyone, return to your quarters. Keep watch for any sign of infiltration. Let the wards stand at full strength.” She glances at me, her jaw set. “Elira, stay. I need to speak with you privately.”

A murmur of acknowledgment spreads, and the assembled purnas begin dispersing. Some file out in solemn quiet, others break into hushed huddles to debate the revelations. Nerissa and her Red Purnas linger for a moment, exchanging meaningful looks, before sweeping out of the hall with swift footsteps. Their tension lingers like static in the air.

Once most have departed, Olyssia gives my hand a supportive squeeze. “I’ll be waiting, okay? Don’t let them scare you.” Then she’s gone, leaving me alone with the Matriarch and a few senior elders at the dais.

Lumeria gestures for me to come closer, the echoes of footsteps dying away. Her gaze is troubled. “I sense your turmoil, child. This prophecy… it’s a heavy burden.”

I swallow hard. “I never wanted any of this, Matriarch. The gargoyles, the Dark Elves, the Red Purnas’ schemes—I just want to protect our people. But I barely trust my own power.”

Her expression softens. “No one expects you to master it overnight. However, we must move swiftly. If the rumors are true, the gargoyles are stirring, and the Dark Elves are prowling our borders. If they realize your existence…” She lets that sentence hang, the implications stark. A powerful Purna in their grasp could tip the balance for any faction that claims me.

One of the elders, a tall woman with silver hair named Yvara, steps forward. “The wards we maintain protect the coven’s location from common scrying spells. But if the Dark Elves learn precisely who they’re looking for, they may bypass those barriers. We risk losing the entire coven if they breach these walls.”

A cold weight settles in my chest. My presence could lead the Dark Elves right here. I think of Jonas again, how I used illusions to help him just a couple days prior. I wonder if he’s safe or if his survival story has already traveled. Perhaps it’s only a matter of time before a cunning enforcer tracks the rumors to me.

“I should never have left the mountains,” I whisper, guilt gnawing. “I might have drawn attention.”

“You were following my instructions,” Lumeria says firmly. “We had to learn if the rumors of gargoyle movements were true. You did what was necessary.”

Yvara’s gaze flicks between us. “Regardless, we must prepare. Elira, you will undergo intense training with the coven’s best mentors. Focus on controlling your Transformative spells first—that art can be… volatile, especially under stress. Then, we’ll see if we can refine your Space-Time magic.”

My palms grow clammy at the thought of unleashing that intangible, terrifying power. “Yes, Elder,” I manage, voice wavering.

Lumeria nods. “We have no choice. Darkness stirs, and if we do not stand ready, we will be devoured by these warring forces.” She breathes out, the flicker of a frown between her brows. “But rest now, child. You’ve just returned from a harrowing trip. Tomorrow, your training begins at dawn.”

I incline my head, throat too tight to speak further. The elders dismiss me with understanding looks, though their eyes hold a flicker of caution. They trust me, but the specter of prophecy looms large.

Stepping away from the dais, I exit the Gathering Hall. The corridors seem darker than usual, despite the floating orbs of arcane light. My footsteps ring hollow, my thoughts tangled in the magnitude of what I’ve heard.My magic could seal or free an entire race of monsters.I try to swallow the lump of fear choking me, but it remains lodged in place.

Halfway to my chamber, I nearly bump into Olyssia, who is leaning against a pillar, arms folded tight across her chest. “You okay?” she asks, searching my face.

I release a shaky laugh. “Not really. But I’m still breathing.”

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