The Veil of Destiny

The days following their failed trial were heavy with silence. Ariana and Bella had not spoken much since that night. They had left the Hall of Echoes feeling humiliated, both doubting their ability to carry the weight of the prophecy, but neither of them was willing to give up. Despite the tension, their bond had remained steadfast. Bella tried to act as though everything was fine, but Ariana could sense her unease. Bella had always been the more optimistic of the two, but this trial had shaken her, too.

The failure had been devastating. It had been one thing to read about the tapestry, to study its cryptic verses and imagine their place within it. It was another to feel the force of its power, to realize how much was at stake. Ariana's mind buzzed with questions. How had they failed? Why had they failed? More importantly, what would Thorn do now?

"You know," Bella said one afternoon, breaking the silence that had settled between them, "we can always try again. We don't need to let him think we've given up."

Ariana didn't answer immediately, her thoughts still lingering on the strange sensations she had felt during the trial. Her eyes traced the lines of the ancient book in front of her, but her mind wasn't on the research. It was elsewhere—on the faces of the figures in the murals, on the hourglass, and on the trial that had gone so wrong. There had been something... wrong with the trial itself. It had felt more like a test of their resolve, their limits, than anything else. Something had shifted in her that night, but she couldn't yet grasp it.

"I don't think it's about trying again," Ariana said finally, her voice more distant than usual. "I think we need to understand what happened before we even think about doing it again. I think... I think we need to prepare better."

Bella raised an eyebrow, her expression thoughtful. "You think the tapestry was testing us, then? Or was it Thorn?"

Ariana couldn't help but shiver at the thought of Thorn. The way he had stood in the shadows, watching them, assessing them. "It wasn't just him. It was the tapestry itself. There's something we're missing, Bella. Something we're not seeing."

The air between them grew heavy with unspoken thoughts. Both girls felt it—this gnawing sense that there was more at play than just the academy, than just the prophecy. The tapestry was alive, its presence almost palpable in the quiet corners of the academy where they spent their days pouring over texts. But it was more than just an object or a story. It was a force, an unseen current that was drawing them in deeper than they had ever anticipated.

Unbeknownst to them, Thorn was watching—always watching. He had retreated from the surface, allowing them to believe they had escaped his scrutiny. But that was a mistake. Thorn was never far. His eyes, sharp and calculating, never strayed from their every move. He knew exactly where their weaknesses lay. He had seen the uncertainty in their actions, the cracks that had begun to form after the trial.

And he would use it. Thorn's lessons were subtle—more so than Ariana or Bella realized. They didn't know it yet, but their failures were his tools. Every moment of doubt, every misstep they made, was another thread in the tapestry of their destiny. His influence was quiet, but it was there. It seeped through their thoughts like an insidious whisper, guiding them when they weren't looking, shaping them when they couldn't feel it.

Ariana had been unaware of this, but now she couldn't help but feel that the strange, shiver-like sensation she had been experiencing was not entirely of her own making. At night, she would wake from a fitful sleep, her heart racing as if someone was watching her. She would glance around her room, half-expecting to see Thorn's shadow lurking in the corner, waiting to pounce.

Her suspicions grew when she and Bella returned to the library the following day. As they began to sift through ancient tomes once more, Ariana's gaze caught an unfamiliar text, one that hadn't been there the day before. It was a small, weathered book, its leather cover cracked and worn, yet something about it called to her. She reached for it instinctively, her fingers brushing the cool surface of the cover.

Bella, noticing the book in her hands, raised an eyebrow. "That wasn't here yesterday."

Ariana nodded, her mind racing. She opened the book carefully, feeling the weight of the moment settle over her. The pages were covered in cryptic runes and strange symbols, and at first glance, it seemed like nothing more than another fragment of forgotten history. But as her eyes scanned the pages, her heart skipped a beat. This was more than just a record of old prophecies. This was the prophecy—the one that tied her and Bella to the tapestry.

She began reading aloud, her voice low but steady, as if the words themselves were pulling her deeper into their mystery:

"To find the shard that lies in wait,
You must pass through the hands of fate.
Where shadows stretch and light is few,
A mirror's touch will guide you true.

Seek not with eyes, but with the mind,
For what is lost is not confined.
The shard that shines with light and dark,
Is hidden where no light can spark.

Only those who dare to seek,
Shall find the path, both sharp and sleek.
But be warned, one must fall and rise,
To claim the shard that hides in guise."

The words sent a chill through Ariana. The prophecy was clearer now, but it was no less cryptic. There was something unnerving about the final line. One must rise, and one must fall. What did it mean? Was it referring to her and Bella? Could one of them be doomed to fail?

As she pondered the meaning, a faint rustling sound from behind her made her heart race. She turned, but the room was empty. She could have sworn she heard footsteps—someone had been there, watching her.

But when she glanced toward the door, it was ajar, and there was no one in sight.