Chapter Thirteen: The Village Elders
The ground beneath them shifted again, lifting them back to the surface—the familiar forest once again. As they walked home, Elara and Ariella trailed behind their parents.
"Ari, now that the queens are gone, does that mean we're ready to face him?" Elara asked quietly, referring to the Shrouded One as "him."
"I'm not sure. But we're close enough now. They've left us, meaning they're confident we can handle it," Ariella answered, her eyes distant, her thoughts unknowable.
Deep in the forest, the Shrouded One rested on a throne-like seat, surrounded by his creatures. Like a king with his subjects, the beasts listened intently to his commands, even though they couldn't speak human language. They responded to him as though they understood every word.
"They're really determined to let the little girls carry this burden," he muttered to himself, his tone bitter. "I can't feel their presence anymore. They've left."
He petted the two-headed beast beside him, its docile nature a stark contrast to the danger it posed.
"They didn't listen to me when I warned them to stay away. Now, I'll put them in their place," he said coldly, his eyes glowing red with fury.
Back in the village, Mrs. Clemont gathered the village elders, recounting the events that had transpired in the forest. She hoped that telling them the truth would give them some hope—that perhaps, despite everything, God had not abandoned them.
Hours later, under one of the trees, four village elders sat, their faces serious as they listened to Mrs. Clemont's account. They found it hard to believe, even though she had been a witness herself.
The elders murmured among themselves, skeptical about the truth of the story. The idea of 12-year-olds being chosen to save them seemed impossible.
"How are we supposed to leave the fate of the village in the hands of 12-year-olds?" one elder questioned.
"You're speaking as though we have another option," Uncle Jonathan, a village elder, responded sarcastically.
"Are you sure about this? Your granddaughter is a chosen one? We can't risk endangering our own children for the sake of this prophecy," another elder protested.
"I would never endanger my own granddaughter if I wasn't sure of what I saw. There's a mark on their palms that glows when they hold hands," Mrs. Clemont insisted.
"Then all we can do is pray for their safety as they prepare to face what's ahead," Uncle Jonathan concluded, dismissing the meeting.