When the figure stepped away, she had expected the world to be dark, blindness to have taken her over. But the coven remained, staring at her in astonishment.

‘Our hope and salvation. She with the violet eyes.’

Sapphire was hyperventilating, tearing at her skin with her nails. She reached for a looking glass from the offering pile and realized the green of her eyes was gone, and she fought the urge to vomit.

‘It’s not me,’ Sapphire finally managed to squeak out. ‘I am not the prophet you seek.’

But Ryvinika just smiled, walking over to her and placing a heavy hand on her shoulders.

‘Call it what you like, my child. But you are the Anointed One. The goddess of strife and slaughter and the bringer of justice for our people.’

‘I’m not one of you.’

‘Rise to your feet.’ Ryvinika’s voice was harsh, and the coven stood. Their eyes were wide with admiration as they took in Sapphire and the goddess before her. ‘The prophecy is in motion. May you burn the world as they have burned those who came before you.’

And then the fire went out, leaving them in darkness. Esadora brought it back to life, and Sapphire stood alone. Ryvinika had gone with the flame.

‘I know the prophecy is a heavy gift, but –’

‘I am no Anointed One. No bringer of justice or long-awaited prophet. I am the future queen of Eriobis, a Canmore.’

A grey-haired older woman stepped forward, her eyes tired.

‘We pledge our loyalties to the queen we know. To the prophet. To the chosen one.’

‘No,’ Sapphire whined. ‘I am not –’ Her words were lost in tears as her shoulders began to shake, and she crouched to the ground, overtaken by it all. Her eyes darted around, searching for Ashes, who was nowhere to be found.

The coven surrounded her, careful to not touch her but close enough to offer her support, and she allowed their presence till she had no tears left to cry. Finally, she forced herself up on shaky legs, and grabbed the stone that Ashes had left atop the pile of offerings.

‘I must go.’

‘My queen, it is hours till the sunrise.’

‘I need to go.’

Esadora bowed her head, and the coven parted, offering Sapphire a clear path to the forest.

Anger coursed through her – anger at the coven, at prophecies, at false truths, and maybe at fate. Without another word, she slipped her hood back over her head and barrelled into the forest.

Lighting a flame in her palm, no longer trying to deny her own power, she trekked along the path, trying to follow the steps that Ashes had led them down just hours before. Fifteen minutes had passed when a hand caught her arm, and she whirled around, nearly burning its owner.

‘Sapphire, it’s me.’ She met Ashes’ eyes, the light of the flame casting menacing shadows on the girl’s face. ‘It’s just me.’