Theole Of The Briar

Theo stared into the campfire sightlessly. The loss of Steval and Jenese had been devastating. But it was the loss of Neivayka that killed what was left of his will to carry on.

She was the one, the one from the prophecy. Theo still believed it through and through. Even more, he had seen it with his own vision, and he had known with every fiber of his being. But there was still this little voice in the back of his head that whispered his worst fear. What if she wasn’t the one? What if his and his grandmother's vision had been wrong? Or worse… what if they had failed and the prophecy would never come to pass?

He knew better than anyone else that the future held many twists and turns, and a single decision can change it. But then, what was the point of prophecy?

“Theo…” came a small hesitant voice.

He looked away from the fire drowsily into the sad, teary eyes of Pontius.