101. Cyara

"The elemental and terrestrial kingdoms were at war, just as we were taught. Accolon and Nimue were Joined, just as we were taught. That ended the conflict between the two kingdoms and created Annwyn. But all of that was before the succubus appeared," Lyrena summarized.

She was just repeated Cyara's words from a few moments before, but Cyara was not annoyed. She understood the need to speak, to process this monumental shift in reality.

Because it was monumental. It confirmed everything they had learned so far about the truth of the Great War, and more.

"These whorls," Diana said, voice still soft. She had not spoken above a whisper since they had entered the clearing. "These whorls seem to be coming from Nimue herself."

Percival peered over her shoulder. "Then they coalesce—into the misshapen things. You have seen these before?" he asked.

"Yes. Both in Baylaur and on the monolith about the faerie caves. Those must be the succubus," Cyara confirmed.

Lyrena's feet crunched it the dirt behind them. "These all show battles between the succubus and the fae," she said, pointing to three of the stones as she passed them by. "But this one… I don't know what in the Ancestors' names is going on here."

Cyara moved to look closer. Percival did as well, only pausing when he realized that Diana had not moved. She was tracing the whorls again and again with her finger. Cyara's heart hurt for him—for the sister he cared so deeply to protect. She could understand it. But she could not offer Diana comfort now.

Lyrena stood before the monolith with her hands on each hip. "There is a sun, and what look like rays of light shining down, but then it is blocked by a cloud. And there is the moon, but actually its two moons with a star in between them." She shook her head. "It looks like a child's drawing."

Understanding clicked into place in Cyara's mind. It was like a child's drawing—symbolic. Simplified. But like a child's drawing, there was more behind it than the carver could convey.

"It is the prophecy," Cyara breathed.

She lifted her fingers and traced over each symbol as she spoke. "Then comes a queen in the age of uncertainty, when shadows cast doubt upon the realm. Born under a double moon and marked by a radiant star, a faerie queen shall rise to command the depths of the voids of darkness."

Lyrena's eyes went wide. She was already moving closer to see the next set of carvings that began at waist-height. "This looks like Annwyn."

Cyara leaned down. Indeed—there were the outlines of the continent, stretched across from one side of the standing stone to the other. The land was marked with mountains, the bodies of water—the Northern Way, the Southern Way, and the Split Sea—with waves.

"The next part of the prophecy says, Twice blessed, the realm of shift and mist, when comes the awaited queen who shall possess ethereal might. With a touch, she will feel the heartbeat of her subjects and she will unlock the secrets they guard within," Cyara recited.

"So this second queen will come from somewhere in Annwyn? How is that possible?"

Cyara shook her head. "I do not know. Maybe it is not Annwyn at all. Maybe it is another realm entirely, and that is where she will hail from."

She knelt down, scraping her thumbnail across the stone. There—a bit of moss gave way. Those whorls again, just like the ones Diana was tracing. But smaller, and dotting what should have been the Split Sea, if the continent truly was Annwyn.

"I do not know," Cyara admitted, shaking her head.

"There is a whorl at the top of your tower. I think it might represent your Nimue," Diana said. She had progressed to the next stone. Slowly considering, slowly tracing.

The one she stood before now was the same one that Lyrena had remarked upon earlier, noting the Tower of Myda. The angle was sharp, but Cyara could make out the dark hordes of the mangled succubus all around the tower.

Cyara pushed to her feet, frowning. The standing stones told the story, but it did not give them any answers. Battling fae kingdoms. A Joining. Fighting the succubus. The tower. Then the prophecy.

"There is more."

Percival had come to see.

Cyara tried to ask him what he meant, but he was already kneeling down in the space she had vacated. Weeds covered the bottom foot of the stone. But Percival brushed them aside.

More carvings.

"There isn't any more to the prophecy," Lyrena said sharply.

Cyara sank down beside Percival. "Yes, there is."

She traced her fingers over the two figures, their arms interconnected. A whorl spreading out around them. Below it, an identical whorl—but without the figures.

And then…

"No," Cyara whispered. "Ancestors, please. No."