Prophecies

Lyra's silverware clattered against her plate. "The child speaks in questions now?" Her gaze shifted to Elysia. "Mother, just how advanced is her development?"

Elysia's eyes flashed a warning at Sorrel before addressing Lyra. "Eren is progressing rapidly, as I've mentioned. Her speech development is extraordinary."

"Extraordinary doesn't begin to cover it," Sorrel murmured. "But then, the prophecies did speak of a child who would bring change."

"The prophecies are ancient texts, open to endless interpretation," Elysia said firmly. "They have been misused for political gain too many times to be taken literally."

"What do they say?" Eren pressed, sensing crucial information just beyond his reach.

Naia, always eager to break tension, leaned over and stage-whispered to Eren, "They say a child will unite the Seven Tribes, bring peace to the land, and probably also eat all the dessert if left unsupervised."

Eren blinked at her, unimpressed. "Then it cannot be me. I have not yet eaten any dessert."

Lyra let out an unexpected chuckle, shaking her head. "Give it time, little sister. The prophecy might just be waiting for you to get a sweet tooth."

"Enough!" Elysia's voice carried unexpected authority. "These are matters for the Council and scholars, not for a family dinner with an impressionable child present."

'Not just a child,' Eren thought grimly. 'A man from another world, trapped in an elf's body in a society that's never known men. If that doesn't qualify as "different from all others," I don't know what would.'

"Of course, Mother," Sorrel inclined her head, but her eyes remained thoughtful. "Though I suspect our little sister is more tied to these matters than we realize."

The tension was broken by the arrival of dessert—crystallized moonflower petals drizzled with a luminescent syrup that Naia informed him was "star honey," collected only during the full alignment of all seven moons.

As the conversation drifted to safer topics, Eren's mind raced with the implications of what he'd heard. Prophecies, political tensions, and his own anomalous existence—all seemed connected in ways he couldn't yet fully grasp.

After dinner, as Elysia carried him back toward the royal nursery, Sorrel fell into step beside them.

"A word, Mother?" she requested. "Regarding Eren's education."

Elysia's arms tightened protectively around him. "Can it not wait until morning?"

"I believe it would be best discussed now," Sorrel insisted. "Before the Council meeting tomorrow."

With a sigh, Elysia nodded. "Very well. We'll speak in my private chamber."

Once inside the opulent room, with its ceiling painted to mimic the night sky, Elysia placed Eren on a cushioned seat before turning to Sorrel.

"What couldn't wait until morning?"

Sorrel closed the door carefully before speaking. "The Council has been discussing Eren. Rumors of her development have reached them despite our precautions."

Elysia's face paled. "How?"

"Servants talk. Guards observe. The palace has too many eyes to keep secrets indefinitely." Sorrel crossed to a window, gazing out at the moons. "They're citing the prophecies of the Seventh Alignment. Some believe Eren fulfills the criteria."

Elysia's posture remained rigid, but her expression flickered. "Do you?"

Sorrel hesitated before speaking. "I think... we shouldn't dismiss the possibility."

Elysia exhaled slowly. "If Eren is connected to the prophecy, then this could work in our favor. The child of prophecy is meant to bring change, to reshape the world. That is power—if we control the narrative."

"But only if we keep it a secret," Sorrel warned. "If the Council believes she is the child of prophecy, they will demand control over her future. They may see her as a tool... or a threat."

Elysia's gaze softened as she looked down at Eren. "She is my child first. No one will dictate her fate but me."

'She speaks as if I have no say in this,' Eren thought. 'But I do. And if there's even a chance this prophecy is about me, I need to understand it before anyone else does.'

Elysia turned back to Sorrel. "We say nothing to the Council. Not yet. Let them speculate, but we give them no confirmation. Eren's development is to remain a private matter."

Sorrel inclined her head. "Agreed. But secrets have a way of revealing themselves, especially ones as significant as this appears to be."

After Sorrel had departed, Elysia carried Eren to the balcony, where the seven moons hung in the night sky, each a different color creating a rainbow of light across the forest canopy.

"I have protected you from the moment I realized what you were," she whispered. "But Sorrel is right. The truth cannot remain hidden forever."

'Not when the truth is as fundamental as my very existence,' Eren thought, watching the moons' light play across the silver forests. 'In a world of only women, a man—even one trapped in a child's body—cannot remain a secret forever.'

Elysia brushed a hand across his cheek. "Sleep now, my extraordinary child. Tomorrow brings new challenges."

As she carried him to his bed, Eren's mind was already planning his next moves. The political situation was more complex than he'd realized, and his anomalous existence apparently fulfilled some ancient prophecy. More importantly, the Council was growing suspicious, demanding an evaluation that might reveal his true nature.

'I need to learn more,' he decided as sleep began to claim him. 'About this world, about these prophecies, about why I'm here.' His last conscious thought was both a challenge and a promise: 'And when the truth finally comes out, I'll be ready for whatever comes next.'