SPIRITBINDER: The Boy Without A Mark
Chapter 36: Unveiling the Prophecy Pt. 2

Chapter 36: Unveiling the Prophecy Pt. 2

Time accelerated around Morvane and the old man, the cabin dissolving into a blur of fast-moving days and nights. Morvane remained unaffected, watching the scene unfold like a silent observer.

"What’s happening?" he asked, his voice tense.

"Just watch," the old man replied, his tone unyielding.

Through the accelerated time, they saw Hiraya’s demeanor change. Her once-confident posture sagged, and a hollow sadness settled in her eyes. She sat on the cabin’s floor, clutching her arm, blood dripping from a fresh cut. She had been trying to summon her crow-like shadow beast, but nothing happened.

"She’s cutting herself to bring it back," Morvane said, his voice trembling. "Medas... He took the one thing she valued most—her power."

The old man remained silent, letting the scene speak for itself.

Days passed in the blink of an eye. Medas appeared at the cabin door, carrying a heavy expression. He stepped inside and froze at the sight of Hiraya’s bloodied arms. Tears welled in his eyes as he rushed to her.

"Stop this, Hiraya! Please, stop!" Medas cried, falling to his knees.

Hiraya avoided his gaze, her silence louder than words. Medas stayed with her that night, refusing to leave her side.

Morvane swallowed hard. "This... This is the night she dies. Medas told me this himself."

"You’re correct," the old man said.

Suddenly, the space rippled like water disturbed by a stone, and a dark, purple-black void appeared, expanding and pulling them into its depths. The cabin dissolved, and they found themselves in a desolate landscape.

The air was dry and heavy, the ground cracked and barren. Trees stood as skeletal husks, their branches reaching for a sunless sky.

"Where are we?" Morvane asked, dread creeping into his voice.

"We are in Ketamran," the old man said.

Morvane shook his head. "No, this isn’t Ketamran. Ketamran isn’t like this."

"Look behind you," the old man said, pointing.

Morvane turned and froze. The kingdom of Ketamran lay in ruins, its grand walls crumbled, its once-bustling city now a wasteland of ash and rubble.

"What happened?" Morvane whispered, his voice barely audible.

"This is the prophecy that will come to pass if nothing is done. Ketamran will fall, everyone will die, and your friends will never be born. This timeline is right before your birth."

"But how can I stop this? I wasn’t even born yet!" Morvane exclaimed, desperation in his voice.

The old man’s gaze bore into him. "The answer lies within you."

They began walking toward the ruined kingdom. As they approached, a figure emerged from the shadows. It was a child, no older than ten, with an unnerving presence. The boy’s eyes glowed with malevolence, his smile twisted and sinister—far darker than even Drevon’s demonic form.

"Who is that?" Morvane asked, his stomach churning.

"That," the old man said gravely, "is the reason for Ketamran’s fall. The forbidden child."

Morvane’s heart sank. "The forbidden child?"

"The child of Hiraya and Medas," the old man explained. "Hiraya’s power stems from demons, while Medas’ power comes from the heavens. Together, they created a child with powers that defy the natural order—a child prophesied to destroy everything."

"But Hiraya... She dies in my timeline," Morvane argued, his voice shaky.

"She doesn’t die here. In this reality, she lives," the old man said.

Morvane struggled to process the revelation. "So... What am I supposed to do?"

The old man’s eyes turned cold. "The true prophecy, Morvane, is that you must kill Hiraya to stop this. To restore balance and save Ketamran."

Morvane recoiled, his blood running cold. "Kill her? No, there has to be another way!"

The old man’s voice was unwavering. "There isn’t. The power she and Medas wield was never meant to coexist. If you don’t act, this is the future that awaits us all."

Morvane stared at the sinister child in the distance, the weight of the prophecy crushing him. For the first time, the burden of his power felt like a curse.

The old man’s gaze remained steady, his expression unreadable as Morvane’s voice wavered with uncertainty.

"How am I supposed to kill her in my reality? She’s a spirit, asking me for help. Now you’re telling me I have to kill her? None of this makes sense!"

The old man slowly raised his hand, pointing at Morvane’s cloak. "The answer lies within you."

Confused, Morvane instinctively reached into his cloak and pulled out the frame containing the glowing power gems. He stared at it, his fingers trembling as the old man continued.

"One of those gems holds the power to open a portal. If you consume it, you’ll gain the ability to travel back in time—back to the night Hiraya and Medas were sleeping in the cabin. That is your only chance to stop this prophecy."

Morvane’s heart raced, and he clutched the frame tightly. "No," he said, shaking his head. "There has to be another way. I can’t do this. I couldn’t even kill a bird, and now you expect me to take the life of someone who hasn’t wronged anyone? She’s already suffered enough!"

The old man’s expression remained impassive, but his voice grew firmer. "You don’t understand. This isn’t about what you want or what seems fair. This is about the survival of Ketamran and everyone in it. If you don’t act, the prophecy will unfold, and this desolation will become your reality."

Morvane clenched his fists, his mind racing. "I’ll find another way. I’ll warn them not to have a child. I’ll make them see reason."

The old man sighed, the weight of centuries evident in his voice. "Do you think it’s that simple? The forces that govern this prophecy are not easily swayed. Even if you warn them, fate has a way of correcting itself. The child will be born unless you act decisively."

Morvane stared at the frame, the glowing gems seeming to pulse with a life of their own. He could feel the gravity of the decision pressing down on him. Every fiber of his being screamed against the old man’s words, yet the ruins around him told a story he couldn’t ignore.

"There has to be another way," Morvane whispered again, his voice cracking.

The old man stepped closer, placing a hand on Morvane’s shoulder. "The choice is yours, Morvane. But remember, every moment you hesitate brings us closer to the destruction you see around you."

The silence between them was deafening as Morvane grappled with the impossible decision before him.

The moment the words hung heavy in the air, the ground beneath Morvane’s feet began to tremble. The sky above them shattered like glass, and the very fabric of the alternate reality they were in began to disintegrate. The place—once so vivid with dark truths—crumbled, collapsing into nothingness. The towering ruins of Ketamran began to dissolve into the void, leaving only an endless blackness around him.

Morvane reached out, but there was nothing to hold onto. His surroundings vanished into a whirl of shadows, and he felt himself falling. His stomach lurched, and he closed his eyes, as if that would stop the sensation. Then, in the blink of an eye, everything was still.

He opened his eyes and found himself lying on a soft, familiar bed in the old man’s house. The scent of herbs and ancient wood filled his senses. He slowly sat up, his heart pounding in his chest, as the reality of what had just happened hit him.

Drevon was standing beside him, watching him intently, his usual teasing grin replaced by concern. "What happened to you?" he asked, his voice low. "It looked like you’ve been through a lot."

Morvane didn’t respond right away. His mind was still reeling from the vision—the prophecy, the death, the destruction. He turned to look at the old man, still sitting in the corner, his eyes closed as if he were in deep meditation.

Suddenly, without thinking, Morvane grabbed the old man by the collar, shaking him violently. "Old man," he demanded, "tell me! There had to be another way to this!" His voice cracked with desperation.

The old man remained motionless, unperturbed, his eyes never opening.

Drevon raised an eyebrow, breaking the tension. "Uhm, he died a long time ago, Morvane. When you both lost consciousness, I stayed here trying to wake you up, but neither of you would come to. So, I thought maybe you were... busy with something important." He chuckled, though there was no humor in his voice.

Morvane’s heart sank as he heard those words. The old man was gone, his spirit already departed, leaving behind nothing but silence.

Drevon’s tone shifted, becoming more thoughtful. "But, hey, before you woke up, the old man’s spirit separated and ascended. Too bad your shadow beast didn’t get a chance to consume him. That man’s power would’ve been great for you." Drevon’s words were light, almost playful, but there was an underlying sadness in his eyes.

Morvane remained silent, his mind still spinning with the weight of the prophecy, the fate that seemed to be laid out for him. "He showed me the prophecy," Morvane murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "That was probably his last mission before he died."

Drevon leaned closer, his curiosity piqued. "What prophecy? What did he show you?"

Morvane’s gaze hardened, his voice quiet and resolute. "I’m the one who killed Hiraya."

Drevon froze, the air between them thickening. For a long moment, he said nothing, as if processing what Morvane had just revealed. Finally, he exhaled slowly, his tone playful. "I know! So when are you going to do this, huh?"