Chapter 25: Prophecy
A week passed before Lucas woke up feeling like an actual person again.
He lay still for a moment, blinking up at an unfamiliar ceiling that had, somewhere over the last seven days, become familiar enough to feel like his... no mud beneath him, no distant growl waiting to become a nightmare, just the quiet, ordinary weight of a body that had finally, actually rested.
It was the first uninterrupted sleep he’d managed since the night that winged abomination had leaned in close enough to end him without a sound. Every night since, some part of him had stayed half-awake regardless of exhaustion, watching shadows and listening for silence that shouldn’t be there. Here, behind a door he made sure to lock every single night without quite admitting to himself why, that vigilance had finally, slowly, started to loosen its grip.
He rose, dressed, and opened the door to find Eleanor already standing there, fist raised mid-knock.
"You lock your door every night," she said, without preamble, studying him with the same searching look she’d worn a few times now since his arrival. "Every single night. Why?"
"Habit," Lucas said, reaching for the easiest half-truth available. "Old camp thing. Wasn’t always safe to sleep exposed."
It wasn’t a lie, exactly. It just wasn’t remotely the whole story and something in Eleanor’s expression suggested she suspected as much but she let it go, the way she’d been letting a lot of things go since he’d arrived, and gestured for him to follow instead.
"Come on. There’s somewhere I need you to be"
***
The main hall was busier than Lucas had seen it, survivors gathered in loose clusters that all turned, one by one, the moment he and Eleanor walked in together.
He’d noticed the whispers before in smaller doses, over the past week — people watching him a moment too long, murmuring behind hands the moment he passed. Standing here now, under the full weight of over a hundred pairs of eyes, he understood exactly how much speculation his arrival had actually stirred.
"That’s him," someone murmured, not quite quiet enough. "The third leader."
"She’s been different since he got here," another voice added. "Happier. Have you noticed?"
"Guess that explains the empty seat."
Lucas glanced sideways at Eleanor, who kept her expression carefully neutral...
"Well," someone else muttered, with theatrical disappointment, "there goes any chance the rest of us had."
A ripple of laughter followed that one, and Eleanor’s posture faltered slightly
Then a man near the front stepped forward, arms crossed, voice carrying enough authority to cut through the murmuring. "Goddess, with respect, this man’s been here a week. Some of us have fought and bled for this Faction since the beginning. What makes a stranger deserving of a leadership seat over people who actually built this place?"
The hall went quiet, waiting....
Eleanor didn’t hesitate.
"Because he earned it before he even got here," she said, calm and level, her voice flowing easily to every corner of the hall. "The group he arrived with...twenty-four survivors, all that remained of another Faction after a horde wiped out everything else made it here because Lucas got them out. Led them through open ground, fought a horde down to a handful of people left standing, and walked twenty four strangers to my gate on nothing but a rumor and his own will to keep them alive."
She let that settle before continuing. "Ask yourselves honestly. How many of you could have pulled off what he did? Not out of insult, out of fact." Her gaze swept the hall slowly, deliberately. "Anyone here confident they could have done the same?"
Nobody answered.
"That’s what I thought." Something harder crept into her voice now, an edge Lucas hadn’t heard from her since she’d taken charge of the tour a week ago. "I don’t make decisions about this Faction’s leadership lightly, and I don’t appreciate having them questioned in front of the people I’m responsible for. Do I make myself clear?"
A murmur of hasty apologies rippled through the crowd, heads bowing, the man who’d spoken first mumbling something contrite before retreating back into the mass of survivors.
"Damn, Elle," Mark muttered, sidling up beside them with an entirely unhelpful grin. "Remind me never to question your seating arrangements."
"Not helping, Mark."
"Forgive me, oh great goddess..."
Eleanor rolled her eyes and Lucas found himself snickering
***
The meeting that followed was more practical. Supply counts, defensive rotations, the final logistics of a march that had clearly been building toward this moment for longer than Lucas had actually been present for it.
"In three days," Eleanor announced, once the last of the reports had been given. "We will move to the Gateway in three days. Preparations are nearly complete. I want every fighter rested and ready before then."
The hall began to disperse once the meeting closed, survivors filtering back toward their own business, and Lucas was still standing near Eleanor and Mark, going over final details, when a young man approached. He was thin, unassuming, with the particular stillness of someone who spent more time observing than speaking.
The quiet type... if you will...
"Goddess." He inclined his head toward Eleanor, then glanced between the three of them. "
"Oh," Eleanor turned to Lucas. "This is Jed. He’s been with us since a week after I built this place. He’s our prophet and he’s responsible for feeding me the visions he has before any big move we made."
A pause then she continued. "Unfortunately, that’s his only ability. It’s still very useful though."
"See? One ability isn’t entirely useless. I mean look! He’s living proof!" Lucas said, gesturing to the boy.
"You’re just saying that cuz you awakened ONE skill too," Mark said "Sucker." he was barely holding in his laugh by now.
"Fuck you, Mark."
"There’s nothing to be embarrassed about though, as the princess, you’re entitled to our protection." Eleanor added, she was wearing a mischievous smile on her face.
"Damn, not you too Elle."
"Ahem." Jed cleared his throat, successfully bringing their attention back. Though he was faintly amused with the banter, this was not the time...
And he had something especially important to say.
"I had a vision," he said. "About the Gateway. I thought you should hear it before we move."
The mood shifted instantly, all three of them turning their full attention on him.
"Tell me," Eleanor said.
"We’ll succeed," Jed said. "The Faction crosses the Gateway.... We make it through."
Something in his tone made Eleanor’s brow furrow before she’d even finished processing the good news. "But?"
Jed held her gaze, solemn in a way that made the hall around them feel suddenly, uncomfortably quiet.
"At what cost," Eleanor said again, quietly, already bracing for the answer.
"Over fifty people," Jed said. "That’s what I saw. Fifty, at least, don’t make it to the other side."
The silence stretched, heavy and cold, before he added the rest, voice dropping lower still.
"Including..." he said this part as he steadily raised his finger. "Him."
The hall suddenly fell quiet and Eleanor and Mark’s face widened in surprise as they saw who Jed pointed at.
It was Lucas...
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