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Angerona’s lifeless hand slipped from Sirona’s grasp. It rested peacefully over her heart as she conjured a smile.

“I am sorry, my child. I tried to prepare you.  Know that his fate is tangled with your own.”

Sirona bent closer, straining to catch every word.

“Follow the Vovk Codex,” she exhaled, and the last ember faded in her coal-black eyes.

Numb, Sirona couldn’t breathe, couldn’t cry, couldn’t believe she was gone. Not now. Not when she needed her guidance to fix this. Angerona had shrouded truth in her fanciful stories of myths and legends far removed from reality. It was a childish game of Hide and Seek and pretty rewards. Until three days ago, when the threats became real.

“It’s not your fault. You did everything possible.”

The words, filtered by dark despair and red-hot anguish, seeped into her mind.  Ralph stood beside her. His presence didn’t comfort her, it only fueled her rage.

“She was lucky to live so long.”

“You imbecile. With her death, there is nothing I can do to prevent the prophecy,” Sirona rose from her spot next to Angerona to confront Ralph.

“Without her, you will die.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Were you not listening? Ralph, magic is against you and your supporters. They killed Angerona. Do you realize what they’ll do to you?”

“I don’t plan on dying.” Ralph’s face turned red and the veins in his neck throbbed.

“You haven’t got a chance.”

“The prophecy didn’t state names. There is always a chance.”

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer