Chapter 137: Shifting World
Leroy instinctively shielded Lorraine and scanned the shadows. The ancient stone pillars and the earth-crowned ceiling, buried for centuries, still held against the tremor.
Haaaaa—
A breath. Warm. Deep. Alive.
The rumbling ceased, the torch steadied, its flame stretching calm light into the chamber. His heartbeat thundered. Something was here.
He wanted to leave. "Did you hear that?" he asked, already rising. Was this old building giving out?
But when his eyes fell on her, he froze. Lorraine’s fingers clutched his shirt, her face stilled in a way he had never seen before.
Are her eyes going to glow again?
He watched, caught between fear and awe, as she exhaled. An aura unfurled from her, soft, radiant, brushing his soul like unseen wings. Her lips parted, and she spoke in High Veyrani, her voice clear as chimes in winter air:
"When the river breaks its flow, when the stars weep fire,
The mountain shall waken, the world shall grow dire.
With the wrath of ten kings, his judgment began,
Yet mercy shall crown him; the grace of but one."
Cold spread through Leroy’s palms. What was she saying? Who was she calling? What mountain slept beneath their feet?
"Lorraine?" He touched her cheek. There was no response from her. Her eyes were fixed, her lips still moving, whispering words in that ancient tongue, words not meant for him, not meant for anyone living.
Lorraine was transported again. The torchlight, the throne, even Leroy’s warmth... everything fell away until there was only silence. She found herself once more at the edge of that still lake. The water was so glasslike it seemed to hold its breath, reflecting a sky too pale to be real. No one stood beside her this time. She was utterly alone.
She looked down. The lake’s surface rippled, not from wind, but from something beneath, drawing her inward. The world shifted. Suddenly, she was in the heart of a river hemmed by mountains. The current was swift, foaming against stone, but there was no blood curling through it as there had been before.
She instinctively touched her belly. It was flat. She looked around. There was no one else. Only clarity. Only strength. And the feeling of being watched.
Her gaze lifted. The mountains towered around her, vast and immovable. Yet as she watched, one of them stirred. At first, she thought it a trick of light and water. But no... the peak itself shuddered, rising as if it had been sleeping all this time.
The sky above it darkened, clouds gathering in a halo of shadow. The sun dimmed, and with it the river seemed to quake, its song deepening into something almost like a warning. Darkness swept outward, a shadow vast enough to swallow the world.
She should have trembled. She should have run. Yet no fear came. Instead, a strange peace spread through her chest, as if her soul recognized something her mind could not.
And then...
The mountain lifted. Rose higher. Became something more than stone.
Lorraine gasped, the vision ripping away. The throne room rushed back around her, cold stone and torchlight. Leroy was staring at her, his eyes wide, not with anger, but awe and concern.
The birthmark on his face glowed faintly, as though embers lived beneath his skin.
She clutched her chest, breath ragged. Something was happening to her, something she could not name. Her body shook. Her thoughts scattered.
Leroy understood, or at least, he felt her fear. He drew her into his arms, steady and unyielding, as if he could anchor her trembling soul to this world by sheer will alone.
"You should leave me," Lorraine whispered, the words fragile as a dying ember.
He cradled the back of her head, pressing a firm kiss to her damp forehead. Her lips spoke dismissal, yet her body betrayed her, as her hands clung to him with desperate force, knuckles white, as though letting go would tear her apart. Her grip revealed more than any confession could.
"I’m not leaving you, Lorraine," Leroy said, his voice low, steady, threaded with tenderness but unbending steel. "No matter what. You hear me?"
Her breath hitched, and she buried her face in the curve of his neck. Slowly, her tremors waned. The suffocating heaviness that had pressed down on the chamber ebbed away, like a storm breaking, leaving the air lighter, easier to breathe.
When she finally loosened her grip, he exhaled too, the tautness in his chest easing. Their eyes met, grounding each other, as if they were both relearning what it meant to simply exist together.
"I should keep away from poisons," Lorraine murmured, her voice thin, evasive, as an excuse to explain what could not be explained.
"You have poisons?" Leroy asked, brow furrowing, his grip instinctively tightening.
"All over me," she whispered, her lips curving into a bitter twist as she shifted, trying to rise from his lap. But before she could slip away, his arms encircled her firmly, anchoring her.
"No," Leroy said, his voice low and resolute as he drew her back against him. "Stay."
And so she stayed, her cheek pressed to the steady breadth of his chest. Her heart was a confused storm, but in the rhythm of his heartbeat, she found an unfamiliar rest, each thud grounding her as if it were meant only for her ears.
"I’m glad I can hear," she murmured, her lips curving faintly. The simple sound of him, the living proof of his nearness, was more precious than she dared admit. His hold on her tightened at her words, as though he, too, drew comfort from the admission.
"How did you know it was me?" she asked softly, tilting her head just enough to meet his gaze. The question trembled with both doubt and hope.
He smiled, slow, tender, and unshakable. "Did you think I wouldn’t? I know your scent, Lorraine..." he touched her nose with his. His finger tangled in her hair. "I know the weight and fall of your hair. The shape of every scar on your back. Do you think darkness could ever hide you from me? Do you think I could mistake you for anyone else, when I have touched you in ways I could never touch another?"
Lorraine’s heart leapt, swelling with a happiness so sharp it almost hurt, as if it might burst through her chest. The world, for a breathless moment, blurred into nothing but the man holding her.
Her lips parted, her breath mingling with his. Slowly, instinctively, she lifted her head, her mouth brushing closer to his.