They didn't speak the choice aloud.
Not at first.
The clearing had fallen silent after Sybil's final words — "All the other pictures end badly." But something in the air had shifted. It was more than warning. More than prophecy. It was direction.
Rasha's fingers closed around her blades. Not out of fear — but readiness.
Talo's grip on his staff had changed, too. No longer defensive. Just resolved.
Sybil stood between them, small and sure, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond the trees.
"We don't have long," she said, almost softly. "It has to be today."
Rasha exhaled. No orders were given. No plan spoken.
She simply turned — toward the open trail beyond the cliffs.
Talo followed, falling in beside Sybil without a word.
The decision had been made.
The cliffs faded behind them, replaced by uneven terrain and thick tangles of pale foliage. The morning air was cool and damp, laced with the scent of moss and crushed leaves.
Rasha walked a few paces ahead, her eyes on the trail. Talo flanked Sybil, posture relaxed but alert.
"So…" he began, "how long were you out here alone?"
Sybil chewed thoughtfully.
"I don't know. Years, maybe. I was seven when I met Merrick. Before that, I lived by myself.
I slept in hollows or tree trunks, sometimes caves. I followed the pictures and they helped me survive.
I learned what berries I could eat and which ones made me throw up. Which little beasties I could cook with magic and which ones were too sour or too tough."
She grinned proudly.
"One time a pack of animals chased me, and I got tired of running. So I turned around and stomped real hard — and the ground cracked open! They fell right in. Didn't come back up."
"I used to only poke things with sharp sticks or rocks, but the pictures helped me learn what to aim for. I didn't even know I had real magic until it just happened one day."
Rasha slowed, casting her a quiet glance.
"What kind of magic?"
Sybil smiled.
"Water. Wind. And Earth. I didn't know it was strange to have more than one."
She glanced up at them, her tone growing softer.
"But the fire magic… that one's for you to teach me," she said to Rasha.
"And the pictures — I'm supposed to get better at those with your help," she added, looking at Talo.
He looked surprised for only a beat, but then gave a small nod, as if some part of him already knew.
That's when her voice turned more thoughtful.
"I wasn't always good at using the pictures right.
At first, they were only about places — things like which path to take, or where I'd find food. But then… I started seeing people."
She looked up at Talo.
"That's why you're supposed to help me get better at it. Because once I could see people, I could see glimpses of what happened when I followed or avoided them."
She paused, eyes distant.
"That's when I started thinking about the idea of parents. Just the idea of it — like, what if I found someone who'd want me?"
Her voice didn't waver, but something behind it softened.
"At first, I saw a few different people. Some paths looked okay, full of nice days and warm fires. But no matter which ones I followed… eventually, I'd lose the path.
The pictures would break off."
A beat passed.
"Until one day… I found one that didn't end."
She looked ahead, focused now.
"It was like a trail made of light. I could see it stretching forward, and everywhere the people on it went, the world changed. Not just for them, but for everything. The pictures kept going — for years.
Hundreds of years."
Her voice was small but awed.
So I started following that path. Every day, I'd check to make sure I was still on it. I started looking at smaller pieces, like just one picture at a time. I didn't want to make a mistake and lose it."
Her steps slowed.
"That's when I met Merrick. And then… the pictures stopped."
Talo and Rasha looked at her, both silent.
Sybil didn't flinch.
"I thought maybe it was because I'd messed up. Maybe I was being selfish. But now I think… maybe I was just supposed to wait. Maybe the timing had to be right."
Rasha's expression tightened, but she nodded slowly.
Talo didn't speak, but his eyes were heavy with thought.
"Wait," Rasha said. "You're saying people can be born with more than one type of magic?"
Sybil tilted her head.
"You didn't know?"
Talo and Rasha exchanged a glance.
"No," Talo admitted. "Not where we're from."
Sybil looked thoughtful for a moment, then gently offered,
"In other places, it's more common than you'd think. Some people are okay with it — they call it being gifted — but others think it's impure. Especially if someone has two or more types in their blood. They think we're messy. Too mixed up to ever be strong."
Her voice grew a little quieter.
"But that's not true. It's just… harder. There's magic everywhere, and for people like me, it pulls in all directions. It takes a long time to figure out how to make it work right. Most of us don't even know what we have — or how to use it."
Talo frowned, processing that.
"So… most of the ones like you?"
She gave a small nod.
"Most of us get caught. Made into slaves. Especially if we don't understand our powers. The purebloods — they're seen as better because they get stronger faster, like it's natural. But we're stronger too. It just takes more time."
"How do you know all this?" Rasha asked softly.
Sybil hesitated… then answered honestly.
"A lot of it I learned after Merrick took me in."
Talo's jaw tightened slightly.
"Took you in?"
Sybil nodded.
"He didn't buy me. Not like the others. He just… kept me. I didn't know he was a slave trader at first. He treated me like the others. Mean, sometimes. I thought I was just another mouth to feed."
She kicked at a pebble as they walked.
"But once he figured out what I could do — the pictures — everything changed. He stopped being cruel. Started using me."
She looked up at them, voice still calm.
"He told me not to tell the mercenaries about the pictures. Just to use them. To keep them out of danger."
Talo's brow lowered.
"And if they didn't listen?"
Her expression flickered.
"They died. Or got hurt. He called it trimming the fat."
Rasha's hands curled slightly.
"And you just… went along?"
Sybil shrugged one shoulder.
"Some of them were nice. A lot were new. Most didn't last. But a few stayed. They listened. We got stronger together. I went out with them for three years."
"Most of the ones out here now are new," she added. "Except for one guy — his name is Brone. He uses earth magic. Just earth. But he's strong."
"And his lady friend," she added darkly, "she's scarier. Her name's Vaera. She uses wind. She's mean to me."
"Mean how?" Rasha asked gently.
Sybil didn't hesitate.
"She makes a whip from air. Smacks me when I don't listen. My back, my legs… wherever she feels like. She's not just mean to me — she's the one that punishes all the other slave girls too. Like she's proud of it."
A silence fell between them.
"But I can do it too," Sybil added defiantly.
"The pictures made me learn. I used it to stir up the dread stalkers. Got them chasing the mercenaries when they got too close."
Talo exhaled slowly, remembering the conversation back in the den.
"You think it was a coincidence the dread stalkers attacked?" he murmured. "That man… he called it."
Rasha nodded quietly, her thoughts turning back.
Sybil didn't seem bothered. She glanced up again, light returning to her voice.
"I've seen more than just people like them, though. There's a little village with people who use fire and earth together. They make stuff called glass. It's shiny and sharp and sometimes clear like water. It can do all sorts of things."
She paused again, thinking, then added,
"A lot of what I've seen… I learned by watching. Listening. People talk about the big regions all the time."
"What do you mean?" Rasha asked.
Sybil raised a finger and began ticking them off.
"The Lightning Empire runs almost everything — they have the biggest armies, the best gear. They even forbid their people from meeting anyone outside their bloodline.
They think they'll get weaker that way. The Water and Wind Regions — they stay to themselves. Live quiet, peaceful.
The Earth Region?
Huge.
They mostly do their own thing and no one bothers them."
Then she paused, looking back at Rasha and Talo.
"But the Fire Region? That should be the second-strongest.
Everyone says it would be, if they weren't so… shut away. Nobody teaches them anything. They don't even know the world's changed."
She glanced between them knowingly, but gently.
"I don't think that's an accident. I think someone's doing it on purpose. Maybe the Chief. Maybe the Elders. But someone wants it that way."
Rasha and Talo didn't answer.
They didn't have to.
Sybil's words lingered like soft embers in the cool air — unsettling, illuminating, impossible to ignore.
Rasha's thoughts drifted to the fire she once believed in, to the world she thought she understood. There had always been more. More paths. More truths. More children like Sybil, carrying heavy gifts in silence. And no one had told them.
Not until now.
She looked at the girl again — this child who should have been broken, but wasn't.
Who should have been afraid, but smiled instead.
Talo, beside her, felt something else take root. A slow, grounding weight.
The staff in his hand — once just wood and memory — felt different now.
Sybil had named a promise he hadn't spoken aloud.
Had seen a shape inside him he hadn't yet carved.
And she was right.
Their world had split open.
And none of them were walking out the same.
Whatever Sybil was — orphan, seer, survivor — she was already theirs.
They just hadn't said it aloud.
Not yet.