Written in The Stars

The Eleventh Scroll: Nestor

"I think you could go to Alvia for a while," the elf was packing up for hunting while his beloved was busy with the campfire.

"Eliv? I've already been there. And they found me there," she summed up resignedly. "And why are you only talking about me? I thought..."

"I know," Nestor immediately hurried over to his companion to grab her hands. "It's just... I may have to stay longer. I have important things to do in Lydia."

"What things? Something happened?" Sage asked excitedly.

The elf sighed heavily, lowering his eyes:

"I don't think you'll believe what I'm telling you," he shook his head.

"Are you kidding me?" She grinned, lifting his chin with her finger. "After all that you've heard from me, do you really think that I might not believe in something?"

"It's about those attacks..."

The vampire looked warily at the interlocutor, who was in no hurry to continue.

"Yes? Speak."

"My friends and I were in Koert when it happened..." he hesitated. "And we decided to fight back."

"Did you fight the attacker?" She clarified.

"Yes... and now everyone is sure..."

"Cosmo's prophecy," Sage said, as if she couldn't believe herself.

"You've heard about it, of course," the corners of the elf's lips lifted slightly.

"Nestor, you are the chosen one," his beloved grinned in amazement.

He immediately felt relieved to hear this from her. All this time, he was plagued by doubts. Friends who refused to accept their fate. Self-doubt. And suddenly, such a simple and important phrase from one of the closest lyres in the elf's life made him believe. To believe that he really was born to save Cosmo. No matter how grandiose it may sound.

"The guys don't believe in this," he tightened his grip on his companion's hands.

"They don't believe in the prophecy?" Sage asked. "Or...?"

"Everyone has their own opinion," Nestor sighed wearily, sitting down on the cold stones. "And I have no idea how to make them believe. I know for sure that I can't do it alone. The prophecy says..."

"... that only together the chosen ones will overcome the great evil," the interlocutor finished for him.

She stood in place for another second, then clung to the elf, squatting down – her palms gently held his fingers.

"It's not your job. Each chosen one must find faith by himself. Maybe they haven't walked the path that will point them in the right direction yet."

Nestor was silent. But soon it suddenly dawned on him:

"Wait, Sage... the original writings of the prophecy were lost a long time ago, right?"

"Yes..." the girl looked at her lover in disbelief.

"Now only fragments have been preserved in some places, and everyone interprets the words of the prophecy in their own way."

"I don't like what you're getting at," the vampire said warily.

"You know a little more about what was written, don't you? You lived at a time when libraries weren't burned down yet," the elf smiled, lightly stroking his companion's wrist. "Maybe if you tell my friends, they'll believe you!"

Sage immediately straightened up, moving a little further away from the interlocutor:

"And how do you suggest I explain to them how I know this?"