The meeting pressed on, tension thick in the air. Suddenly, an announcement broke through the atmosphere.
"The lady is here," the priest's voice echoed through the room, carrying an undertone of gravity.
My heart skipped a beat, an uneasy feeling settling in. It was as if the world held its breath, anticipating something monumental.
Then, the door swung open, and there she was, gliding in like an ethereal vision in a beige dress-Eira. My Eira. A wave of disbelief and hope crashed through me. Could she really be the sacrifice? My mind raced, refusing to accept the possibility.
As she approached, I found myself lost in a trance, my thoughts a chaotic swirl of denial and desperate questions. But reality broke through.
"Sir Alastair, meet Ms. Eira Twilightsworn, the sacrifice foretold in the prophecy," the priest's voice shattered the silence, dragging me back to the harsh truth.
My chest tightened, seeing her standing there, seemingly devoid of emotion. I locked eyes with her, silently pleading for answers, for reassurance that this was all a misunderstanding.
"Ms. Twilightsworn, the Demon King's declaration of war looms two days ahead. Are you prepared for what's to come?" the priest's inquiry pierced the heavy silence.
"I have been ready since birth," Eira's voice was steady, but it carried an undertone of resignation, a resignation that cut through me like a blade.
The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the cruel fate that awaited her. My mind screamed with a thousand unspoken words, with a desperate need to shield her from this destiny.
"Very well. We will summon you when the time arrives. Do not attempt to flee. The lives of millions rest upon your shoulders. And we trust that the daughter of Mr. Twilightsworn will honor the prophecy and her legacy," a senior warrior's voice was laced with both authority and subtle coercion, a reminder of the emotional blackmail at play.
"Yes, sir," Eira's response was devoid of emotion, her facade unyielding.
The room felt suffocating, each second ticking by like an eternity. The assistant's voice cut through the tension.
"Sir Alastair, do you have anything to add?" the assistant's gaze held a mix of sympathy and curiosity.
My throat felt tight, words caught in the storm of emotions raging within me. "No," I managed to utter, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Dismissed," the priest's command signaled the end of the meeting, but it felt more like the beginning of a nightmare.
As Eira turned to leave, our eyes met once more, a silent exchange of pain and unspoken words. Anger and sorrow mingled within me as I watched her walk away, a prisoner of fate.
The meeting continued, but my mind remained trapped in a whirlwind of emotions, each one a sharp reminder of the impending tragedy that awaited us all.