I was crying.

I was curled into a ball, sitting on a bunk bed in the hold of my sailboat, and I was crying.

Everything I cared about was gone. My friends, my library, my titles. The temple, the villages, the island. The kindred. Laughter, shouting, talking. My whole world.

My glorious destiny was in ashes.

My favorite books and a week’s worth of clothing were in a sack under the bed. My sword was in a lockbox at the foot of the bed. Princess Whiskerton was reclining on the bunk bed’s cheap pillow.

I was alone, and afraid. My eyes were puffy and red. My hands were shaking.

Nothing made sense. The world was too much noise and light and motion, and I just wanted to hide. I’d lost too much to comprehend.

Why? Why would they do this? What did I do to deserve this?

I hadn’t slept, and I was long past the 24 hour mark. The past day was a blur of action and conflicting voices and unmoving masks. I’d started the day prior full of energy and conviction, ready to become what I was always meant to be. Now I was numb and broken.

I was no hero. No chosen one. Everything I did just made things worse.

Who am I?

I didn’t know.

Boots on wood broke my misery coma and I mustered the energy to wipe my tears. I knew it couldn’t really hide that I’d been crying, but what was left of my vanity demanded the action.

Finn climbed the ladder down into the room and stood there looking at me. I could hear a thousand insults preparing on his lips. I could feel the weight of his disappointment in me. I’d been his hero, and I failed him. I failed everyone. I waited for his condemnation.

Instead, he said, “You okay?” Then he winced. “Stupid question, but I don’t really know how else to say… I guess I just want to let you know that I’m here for you.”

I stared at him and tried to process.

“I know you’re probably going through a lot, but I think it can help to talk. To know that you have friends, and this isn’t the end.”

“How?” I croaked.

He sat down next to me slowly, carefully, like he was dealing with a frightened animal. Maybe he was. He said, “You’re strong, Gwyn. Not just physically, but who you are. Do you remember how we met?”

I didn’t. I shook my head.

“I was just a kid, a new orphan brought into the temple’s care. I was quiet, and better with animals than people, and the other kids saw me as an easy target. They were throwing things at me when you stepped in front of me and said that the next person to throw something would lose a tooth. So when the biggest threw an apple core, you rushed him.” He grinned at the memory.

Pieces of it were coming back to me. “Did I win?”

He laughed. “By attrition, yeah. The first time, you got a few good punches in and he decked you. But you got back up, and again, and again. They had numbers, but you refused to stay down no matter how much they fought. Eventually they just gave up and ran away instead of trying to fight any longer. When you turned around and proclaimed your victory, your nose was broken and your face was covered in blood. It was a pretty gruesome sight for a kid.”

I smiled a little. “There’s a moral to this story, isn’t there?”

“Yeah. Don’t give up. Don’t let them beat you down. It’s not over yet.”

I took in a deep breath and let it out. “Okay. Okay. I won’t give up.”

“Good. The others are waiting at the dock.”

I looked up at him sharply. “Others?”

I followed Finn to the deck of the ship and stood by the boarding ramp as he joined Gavin, Aislin, and my oldest rival. They were all dressed for travel, and armed.

I folded my arms and stared Duncan down. She held my gaze unflinchingly.

Finally I said, “Enjoying the promotion, chosen one?”

“I turned it down.”

What?

“I want to help, Gwyn. I don’t care about accolades, I just want to do what’s best for our people. And Morgan’s plan is not what’s best.”

I thought you hated me. I hated you. What else had I been wrong about?

She gestured to luggage at her feet and said, “I want to come with you, wherever you’re going. The council wouldn’t listen to you, and they’re not going to listen to me. We need to show everyone that we are necessary, and part of that is showing solidarity, not turning on each other for power.” She hesitated, then continued, “You’re the chosen one, Gwyn, not me. I stand with you.”

I finally managed to tear my gaze from her and looked to Gavin and Aislin. They each nodded silent agreement.

“Duncan… Aislin, Gavin, Finn. You know the laws.” I stared at them all with an almost reverent bewilderment.

“We know,” Duncan told me. Again, the others nodded. “Exile is a price we’re willing to pay.”

They were better people than me. Every single one of them. Could I have made a sacrifice like that if it was Duncan facing exile? If it was Finn? I didn’t know.

I let all the new information I’d just been presented with sink in. I stood there with my eyes closed and my fists clenched for maybe a minute before I opened them and said, “Okay. Welcome aboard, crew.”

Finn gave me a wide grin, and Duncan nodded at me approvingly. They all picked up their things and started marching onto the boat.

I said, “I need some time to think about our next move. Get settled in, then wait for me in the map room. The others will show you where it is, Duncan. We are not giving up on the prophecy.”

They all ducked below with their luggage, and I moved to the prow of the ship. I was alone with my thoughts again, but this time I had a purpose. My friends had restored my drive, and determination burned in my veins.

Useful. Not useful. Two types of ideas.

The council believed I was a reckless narcissist, but that was irrelevant because I had no way of showing them otherwise. Lupa had spoken in favor of me, but that alone clearly wasn’t enough, and I had no way to apply pressure on that front.

The Gate was open. That couldn’t be walked back, and it couldn’t be ignored. Maybe there wasn’t proof of a threat out there yet, but the possibility of one had just become a lot more real to the council. Again, not something I could affect at this juncture.

Morgan considered me a threat to the temple’s power on the island. He had influence over the temple’s infrastructure, and connections to influential people across the island, but with Duncan’s defection he would be vulnerable. Morgan was an arbiter, an interpreter of prophecy. Without a chosen one to back, his control over the temple was tenuous. Regaining the allegiance of the temple’s warriors could be classified a non-issue.

Prophecy. It was the key to everything. If I could prove to the council that I was the chosen one, they would have no choice but to let me save them. It wouldn’t matter what they thought of me if I showed them in irrefutable terms just how necessary my presence was. The council had the capacity for reason, despite their callous dismissal of my claims. I just needed to make them understand. I needed real proof, real evidence.

I sighed and leaned on the ship railing. I’d tried the evidence route and found nothing. I had scraps. Little fragments of nothing. Those scraps were all that was left of the empire’s literary tradition. Every fallen library I’d been to was in the same state of decay. Three centuries hadn’t been kind to the empire’s books.

A spark flickered, my pulse raced, and I had an idea.

I marched into the map room and dropped a moth-eaten diary onto the table. It landed with a thump and everyone looked at it, then at me. They were clustered around it, all facing me.

I put my hands on the table’s edges and leaned forward. “The council doesn’t believe in the prophecy, and as much as it pains me to admit, I understand why. We grew up with the prophecy, and it seems as natural to us as the council or ancestor worship. But all we have is one old scroll and a bunch of reprints. Everything else is oral tradition, stories passed down that could very well have been warped by the years.

“We need evidence. We need evidence they can hold in their hands and read with their own eyes.”

Aislin picked up the diary, weighed it, and started to flipping through pages. She frowned. “We picked this up on a salvage run. It’s better-preserved than a lot of stuff, but it’s just full of minutiae. Some noble’s travel journal.”

“A travel journal I’ve read every surviving page of. The writer wasn’t just some noble, they were a scholar, and this documents their journey to every library in the bounds of the empire. A lot’s missing, but this passage isn’t.”

I took the diary from Aislin and opened it to a specific page, then pointed at a specific line that was legible.

Gavin read it aloud. “’The palace library is even more impressive than I had expected; every single book here has been Preserved to a far stronger degree than my own paltry work on this journal.’ What do they mean by ‘Preserved’?”

I grinned. “Notice how it’s capitalized? The fallen put proper nouns on all their magic, I think. I’ve seen Sorceress before, and one instance of something called Glamour. My hypothesis is that Preservation is another kind of magic, one we’ve forgotten, and that’s why this journal weathered the years better than all the other books I’ve found in ruins.”

Duncan’s eyes lit up. “Which would make the books in the palace library even more whole.”

“Exactly. Somewhere in that library is a document that proves our case. Maybe something that references our prophecy directly, or maybe just something to show a history of prophecy. Whatever it is that could help us, it’s in that library.”

Finn asked, “So is that the plan? Sail to the capital city of the fallen empire and plunder the palace library?”

I hesitated. “Yes. Well, maybe.” I sighed. “Look, I got into this mess by acting recklessly. So before we decide on any plan, I want to hear any suggestions or objections you have. I need a second opinion before I commit to sailing to a dead city.”

They were all silent for a few minutes. Finally, Duncan asked, “Do we even know where the capital is?”

I nodded to Gavin and he pulled out a tightly bound scroll, then unbound it to reveal an incomplete sketch of islands and sea currents.

I gestured at it and said, “We’ve been working on a few maps to make scavenging easier, and this one is intended to be a map of the whole world. Every time we find a new chart in the ruins, a new reference to far-off locations, we mark it on the map, and we fill it in with more detail when we find somewhere in person.

“Admittedly, we’ve never been anywhere close to the capital, but we know the general location of it.” I pointed it to a big red X on the map. “Anything else?”

They all looked at each other and shook their heads, and I slipped the journal back in my coat.

We left the map room and started rigging the ship for travel. As the work was finishing, Duncan walked by me and put a hand on my shoulder. “We will succeed, Gwyn. The hand of fate will guide our path.”

I wasn’t so confident, not anymore. But I nodded anyways, and watched the island slowly get further away as the boat picked up speed.

We set sail, and left our home behind.