The erratic gasps and sobs of a woman filled Moira's cabin. Some nomads had dragged their sister inside. Her rug was now getting drenched in blood. Moira had barely any time to pick up her lantern-making equipment from the floor. Usually, she would have been more prepared. Moira should have seen this day coming but her mind had been plagued with peculiar dreams and thoughts ever since the High Priest came to Seryani.

  Serpents, lions, crowns, and swords... Crowns, lions, swords, serpents... Blood, crowns, lions, and swords... Blood...

  "Moira!" Her brother shouted, trying to get her to snap out of whatever stupor she was in. There was a paisana bleeding on the floor, and all she did was go blank.

  Moira had told Manolis about the High Priest's visit. It had unsettled him so much he had even suggested that they should leave. However, when she had told him that it would probably be fine, Manolis relented. He couldn't argue with the mystic, but he did love to argue with his dear younger sister. Yet he could still see the same uneasiness in his sister's eyes. They had the same starry violet eyes and usually the same thoughts! So why didn't she ever agree with him?

  "Sorry, I..." What am I going to say? Oh, just thinking about random words that are just popping in my head. Moira took the cotton cloth sheet from her brother's hands, shredding it into long bandages.

  The nomads sat helplessly watching the sibling's work. They trusted Moira and Manolis, but it was odd to see them work so calmly. After all, one was only a fifteen-year-old girl and the other was a young man only three years her senior. Not even past twenty. They watched with faint horror as Manolis grabbed a small but very sharp blade and his sister's right wrist. With one swift movement, he slit her palm.

  "Look at me," Moira told the woman. Wincing slightly from her cut palm, she masked it with a comforting smile. "Stay as still as you can be..."

  The nomad-lady flinched as the mystic child hovered her hand over the open festering wound on her leg. Her blood dripped onto it like wine spilling from a cup. In the background, Manolis assured the nomads that this was just how his sister did things. Seryani is full of these sorts of witchcraft, but hey, Moira actually does it right! However, no one was even listening to him.

  Moira's hand started to glow... No, her blood was glowing. From crimson to gold. Her action emitted a light no stronger than a candle or the lanterns she made. The wound started to heal and close in a matter of seconds.

  The woman stared at her now-healed leg speechlessly. Only a faint scar was in place as if she had just gotten a small cut. Her people muttered to themselves in wonder. Magic? No, dark sorcery... No, Seryani child could just learn something like this without an academy and millions of scrolls.

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  Moira was used to the things people said about her, so she wasn't fazed. If she wasn't being burnt at a stake, then she would let them speak their minds freely. Manolis was wrapping her hand with the bandages they had made. She couldn't heal herself of course. She would be invincible if she could. Her head turned to the curtain door. A sort of...expectant feeling filled her heart. What's going to happen? More than a week has passed. He isn't here and he won't come again...calm down.

  Manolis watched his sister's face, her gaze on the curtain beads as if she had never seen them before. His hand moved to her shoulder, holding it gently.

  "Moira, I know that face," he sighed, he stood up from the floor taking her with him. Manolis led her outside the cabin so they could speak away from those whispering paisanos.

  She didn't know how to explain her thoughts. Her guesswork was always so cryptic. Just short scenes, phrases, or words.

  "The Grand Cathedral is in Alberia, yes?" said Moira quietly, "Mani, the kingdom isn't at war, is it?" He had always been better at geography and politics. As a hunter, he left Seryani often to find and sell game.

  Manolis wanted to ask her why she was asking this but Moira usually had a very good reason or would have one in the future. "No, but I hear talk of rising taxes, people growing restless, mercenaries controlling the streets..." The usual stuff. That didn't help. Moira's eyes widened slightly. "It won't affect us though, we have the Elpis Hills between us," Manolis said quickly. And no one bothered little Seryani anyway.

  Her mouth parted to say something but something caught her eyes. Fleeting and dark in the night. Moira walked down the street, shrugging Mani's hand off her shoulder.

  Manolis followed behind her. "What are you doing, Moira?" His words clearly weren't reaching her.

  Serpent, sword, crown, blood, lion... Beware the lion, beware his ambition... Mercenaries won't spare the Kingdom of Alberia. The crown...so heavy with gold and jewels. Lion, sword, crown...

  They had walked into an empty street when she left her trance. Manolis muttered something about it being too empty. Where are the merchants and paisanos?

  The glint of steel flashed in the night.

  "Mani, watch out!" She said far too late. A cloaked figure hit him in the head with the flat side of his blade. She ran towards her brother who crouched on the floor, clutching his head as a thousand fuzzy stars appeared in his vision. Another aggressor grabbed her from behind stopping her from getting to Manolis.

  Manolis was getting up now, reaching for her desperately but she was getting dragged back. Towards an old carriage.

  No... No! God, please don't take me away from him..!

  "Moira!" He called out, the sound guttural and angry. He could only watch in a panic as the men held him back. They should have left Seryani...he should have brought a weapon as soon as she started drifting down the street, he should have- His shouts ended when he was struck again, and this time he blacked out.

  "Don't hurt him!" She screamed. He fell to the floor with a sickening thud. They threw her into the carriage, tying her arms back with thick rope as they held her down.

  The last thing Moira saw and heard before they blindfolded her was the raising of a sword above Manolis' neck.