The Second Breath

In the archives of distant Vaelithar, three scholars closed their journals with satisfaction.

The experiment had exceeded all projections. The subjects performed beautifully, each acting according to nature with such authenticity that no artificially constructed scenario could have produced superior results. One spoke of love as though it were armour. Another offered blood as medium, bearing divine grief as though mortality were merely a suggestion. The third chose dignity over expediency and, when forced to select between two deaths, refused the binary entirely.

The woman died holding her daughter, smiling. The child was born not crying but glowing, eyes ancient and aware.

Now the real work could begin.

For the child lived, and the village stood, and the prophecy hung between them like a blade suspended by a gossamer thread. The subjects had forged profound bonds with the prophesied destroyer, had taken her pain into themselves, had promised Light’s eternal guidance.

What would they do when the thread finally snapped?

The scholars already knew. They had seen it in the edited vision, the future carefully suppressed from the child’s awareness. But the subjects did not know. Could not know. Would not be allowed to know until the moment arrived and the choice became inevitable.

Across planes and stars, in a room still stained with birth and farewell, the infant opened her eyes and touched the world.

Somewhere in Yaroven, reality shuddered.

Somewhere in Yaroven, dreams turned prophetic.

Somewhere in Yaroven, the countdown had begun.

End documentation: Phase One complete. Proceeding to Phase Two.

~~~

Summary: On the distant world of Vaelithar, a prophesied child was born under unknown observation. Three Targossians forged bonds with the infant while her mother died, setting the stage for an impossible choice between love and prophecy.

Penned by My hand on the 14th of Daedalan, in the year 991 AF.