Prophecy

Chapter 52: Atmosphere

*Grace's POV*

A deep sense of tranquility washed over me as I lay there, watching Xavia sleep. Her head rested gently on my chest, and her breathing was steady and rhythmic. My mate's arm was wrapped around my abdomen with an intimacy that spoke of profound connection and trust—love. I'd never grow tired of having Xavia rest upon me like this.

In fact, I desired more of it.

Our evening together filled my mind, causing a serene smile to tug at the corners of my lips.

The memories of the night were vivid and cherished.

We had spent hours engrossed in the magickal orbs left by Azriel, marveling at the relics of her past and absorbing the heartfelt messages she had imparted. Watching Xavia's emotions shift from sadness to acceptance and finally elation as she delved into her mother's world was a poignant experience. The blend of her intense emotions was both heart-wrenching and beautiful. It was clear that, despite the tears and the pain of her loss, she felt a renewed sense of wholeness and connection to Azriel.

Seeing her find solace in her mother's legacy made my heart swell with contentment.

And...

I was so very proud of her.

After each orb's messages were played, Xavia and I discovered a treasure trove of additional items in the bag that we hadn't initially noticed. Among them were two exquisitely crafted suits of armor designed by Azriel herself. The armor was unlike anything we had seen before; it was durable and adaptable, melding seamlessly with our Nephalem forms. We excitedly tried them on, and to our delight, they fit perfectly. The material was undeniably strong yet flexible, and... it felt almost alive, responding to our movements with an ease that promised protection and adaptability.

It was evident that Azriel had meticulously crafted these suits to meet our needs in any situation.

We spent time testing our armor's capabilities, and it was remarkable to see how they adapted to all the actions attempted. The way it functioned was a marvel of magical engineering. It made sense because Azriel mentioned the same ancient and powerful Savelli Coven that my father did when he explained the device that captured her memories. It didn't look like traditional armor either—it seemed to blend with us, almost as if it was an extension of our own bodies.

Xavia's joy was infectious as she drank in the discovery, her face alight with a happiness that mirrored mine.

Watching her, I felt immense pride and admiration for her mother's ingenuity.

In addition to the armor, the bag contained a particular case of throwable weapons for me. Each was designed with precision, its purpose clear, and its power potent.

I was very thankful for them.

The array was impressive: throwing knives, daggers, bolas, shurikens, and even ninja stars, all embedded with various magickal elements.

There was also a letter explaining a unique weapon left expressly for Xavia, as it was her mother's own weapon. It was an exquisite piece, described as an extension of herself and intended to always be a valuable asset in any circumstance. The letter, too, detailed its transformative nature—how it could shift from looking like ordinary bracelets and anklets to powerful gauntlets and boots, enhancing hand-to-hand combat with elemental powers. The weapon's ability to store and release power made it even more fascinating.

Our night was filled with excitement and discovery.

We ventured to the roof, where we practiced with our new gear.