SPIRITBINDER: The Boy Without A Mark -
Chapter 34: The Prophecy Began
Chapter 34: The Prophecy Began
A few days had passed since the night at the cemetery. Morvane sat in his room, the dim light of a single lantern casting flickering shadows on the walls. His thoughts were a whirlwind of questions about his newfound power and the consequences of using it.
Suddenly, a familiar presence filled the room. Hiraya’s spirit appeared before him, her translucent form glowing faintly. She looked calm, her ethereal hair floating gently as if caught in an unseen breeze.
Morvane glanced up but showed no surprise—he was beginning to adjust to the strange and supernatural life he now led. "Long time no see, Hiraya. Are you okay?"
Hiraya gave a small smile. "Well, I’m a spirit, so yeah, I guess I’m okay. But..." Her voice faltered, a shadow of frustration crossing her face. "I still can’t wait to find out who my killer is. It’s all I think about. But I don’t even know where to start."
Morvane leaned forward, guilt flickering in his eyes. "Oh... right. I’m sorry, Hiraya. I haven’t been checking in with you about that. I want to help you so badly—to figure it out and make sure you can be reborn."
Hiraya hovered closer, her voice softer now. "I know you do, Morvane. I can feel your sincerity." She hesitated, as if searching her fragmented memories. "But it’s not that easy. As a spirit, I’ve lost so many of my memories. It’s like looking at pieces of a puzzle that don’t fit together anymore."
"Can’t you remember anything from when you were alive?" Morvane pressed gently, his tone laced with hope.
Hiraya closed her eyes, her form flickering slightly as she concentrated. "There are fragments... like flashes of light in the dark. Upon thinking about it, I remember a man. ’talking.’ It feels... important. But I don’t know why."
Morvane frowned, repeating the name softly. "Man...? Could that be someone you knew? Someone connected to what happened to you?"
Hiraya’s glowing eyes met his, determination igniting within them. "I don’t know. But if I can hold onto this man and find the missing pieces, maybe it’ll lead me to the truth."
A tense silence filled the room, broken only by the faint hum of magic that seemed to emanate from Hiraya’s presence.
"Hiraya," Morvane said quietly, his voice steady, "I’ll help you. Whatever it takes, we’ll find out what happened to you. I promise."
The spirit gave a small, bittersweet smile. "Thank you, Morvane. You’re one of the few people I feel I can trust in this strange existence."
As she began to fade from view, her final words lingered in the air like an omen. "Be careful, Morvane. The path you’re walking is intertwined with mine—and perhaps something far greater than either of us can imagine."
Morvane sat in silence after she disappeared, the weight of her words sinking in. He didn’t know what "something greater" meant, but the sense of impending change was undeniable.
Somewhere in the shadows of his mind, a whisper began to form—a thing that had been waiting for its time to be revealed.
Morvane sat silently in his room, still deep in thought after Hiraya’s cryptic visit. The room was quiet, save for the distant rustle of wind outside. Suddenly, the door creaked open, and Drevon strolled in casually, holding the most elegant teacup Morvane had ever seen.
"Hi, Morvane. What’s up?" Drevon greeted, his tone light as he sipped from the cup.
Morvane blinked, startled by the sudden appearance. "Oh, you’re here. What... what are you drinking?"
Drevon raised an eyebrow, tilting the teacup slightly to show off its floral design. "What do you think you drink from a teapot? Wine?"
Morvane frowned, realizing too late that he’d walked into Drevon’s teasing. "Oh, okay, stop it. I was just asking."
Drevon smirked, leaning back against the wall. "This is tea. You remember the old blind man we visited? He gave me this blend when we left his house."
"Oh, yeah..." Morvane’s voice trailed off as a thought struck him. His eyes lit up with sudden realization. "Wait, Drevon. The old man! Didn’t he tell us about a vision? That means he can see things—know things that others can’t."
Drevon sipped his tea thoughtfully, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, that’s true. Why?"
Morvane stood abruptly, his earlier frustration replaced with purpose. "I have a few things I need to ask him about. Can you come with me to his house?"
Drevon set the teacup down delicately on the table, his smirk growing wider. "Of course. It’s been a while since I’ve had a little adventure. Besides," he added, with a wink, "I wouldn’t miss the chance to see what trouble you’re about to get us into."
Morvane rolled his eyes but couldn’t help a small smile. "Thanks. Let’s get going."
Drevon grabbed his teacup, draining the last of his tea in one elegant motion. "Alright, then. Let’s pay the old man a visit. But fair warning, Morvane—he doesn’t always give straightforward answers. Be prepared for riddles and cryptic nonsense."
"I’ll take whatever I can get," Morvane said firmly.
With that, the two set out into the night, the glow of Morvane’s determination mirrored by the faint glimmer of stars above.
Morvane and Drevon walked under the pale light of the moon, the village slowly coming into view. Its quiet stillness sent a shiver down Morvane’s spine. At the entrance stood the old blind man, leaning on his cane as though he had been waiting for them.
As they approached, the old man raised his head slightly and greeted them with a serene smile. "I’ve been expecting you."
Morvane and Drevon exchanged uneasy glances, but neither said a word.
As they followed the blind man deeper into the village, Morvane’s attention was drawn to a familiar house. It was dark, devoid of life or warmth. He slowed his pace, his eyes narrowing as unease crept over him.
"That house..." he murmured.
The old man spoke, his tone calm but heavy with meaning. "The people who lived there are gone. They died."
Morvane froze, his breath catching. "What? How?"
"They killed themselves," the old man said plainly, as if stating a fact. "They likely couldn’t bear the weight of their child’s death. It happened the same night you visited."
Morvane felt the words hit him like a physical blow. "What... no, no, no. We told them their child wanted them to be happy. We... we helped them."
The old man tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "Perhaps they couldn’t accept the loss, even with the knowledge you gave them. But do not despair. At the very least, you showed them that the spirits of the dead are real. That, too, is a gift, even if they couldn’t embrace it."
Morvane’s fists clenched, guilt clawing at him. "Can you see their spirits?"
The old man turned toward him, his empty eyes seeming to pierce through the darkness. "Can you?"
Morvane staggered slightly, caught off guard. "Huh? Wait... how do you know I can see spirits? I never told you that."
A faint smile tugged at the old man’s lips. "As I told you when we first met, I know many things. That is my power."
Morvane’s mind reeled. The old man had an air of certainty that left no room for doubt, yet it only deepened the mysteries surrounding him.
Drevon, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke, his tone laced with amusement. "Well, aren’t you full of surprises, old man? You always manage to keep things... interesting."
The old man chuckled softly, the sound carrying an odd sense of foreboding. "There are still many things you do not understand, Morvane. But in time, all will be revealed."
Morvane’s gaze lingered on the dark house, a storm of emotions swirling within him. He turned back to the old man, his voice trembling slightly. "What do you really know about us?"
The old man’s smile faded, replaced by an expression of quiet solemnity. "To prepare you, Morvane. For what lies ahead. The prophecy has begun, and your role in it cannot be ignored."
Morvane’s chest tightened, the weight of the old man’s words pressing down on him. Whatever lay ahead, he knew there would be no turning back.
Morvane stared at the old man, his fists still clenched, his thoughts a jumble of emotions. "Wait... I’m here to ask you about something else," he said, his voice steady despite the confusion.
The old man’s expression softened, but his tone carried a weight that silenced further protest. "Believe me, Morvane, all the answers you seek are interconnected. They weave into the same cloth, one that has already begun to reveal itself."
Morvane furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about?"
The old man leaned on his cane, tilting his head slightly. "Now is the time for you to understand. The prophecy that began in the past is now moving forward... and you are a part of it."
Morvane blinked, taking a step back. "Huh? What prophecy? What are you—"
Before he could finish, the old man reached forward, tapping his forehead lightly with his weathered fingers.
A sudden rush of warmth surged through Morvane, and the world around him dissolved. The dark village, the quiet streets, and even Drevon—all of it disappeared in a blink.
When the sensation faded, Morvane found himself standing in a completely different place. Rolling hills stretched out before him, covered in lush green grass that rippled like waves in the breeze. The sky was a brilliant blue, the sun hanging high above, flooding the landscape with light.
He looked around, disoriented. "Where... where am I?"
There was no sign of the old man. No sign of Drevon. Only the vast expanse of hills and a strange stillness that seemed to press against his ears.
Morvane took a tentative step forward, the grass soft under his boots. His breathing quickened as he realized the sheer enormity of the place. It felt... ancient, as if the land itself carried the weight of countless stories.
"Am I dreaming?" he muttered, his voice sounding small in the wide-open space.
But deep down, he knew this was no dream. Something was pulling him here, something beyond his comprehension.
A faint whisper echoed on the wind, carrying words he couldn’t quite understand. Morvane turned in circles, trying to pinpoint the source.
"Who’s there?" he called out.
The whisper grew louder, resolving into a voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once. It was neither male nor female, neither young nor old. It was a voice that carried the essence of the earth itself.
"Welcome, Morvane," the voice said. "You stand at the threshold of destiny. The truth lies within these hills, buried deep within the past."
Morvane’s heart pounded in his chest. "What do you mean? What truth?"
The wind swirled around him, carrying the voice closer. "The prophecy began long ago, tied to your destiny, your power, and the choices you will make. You must uncover it, piece by piece, if you are to fulfill your role."
Morvane swallowed hard, his mind racing. "What role? Why me?"
But the voice gave no answer. Instead, the ground beneath him began to shimmer, and shapes started to form in the air—figures and scenes from a time long forgotten. Morvane could only watch as the past began to unfold before his eyes.
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