Chapter 118 The Prophecy

• Xavier***
• The healer’s den was oppressively silent, the only sounds the soft scrape of her tools and the whispered incantations that wove through the air like fragile threads of hope. I stood still, watching her every movement, my focus razor-sharp as though sheer will alone could pull Henry back from the brink. Beside me, Diego’s arms were crossed tightly against his chest, his expression grim but composed—a counterweight to my rising desperation.
• Henry lay motionless, his pale face bathed in an eerie stillness. His shallow breaths were uneven, each one tugging at the fraying edges of my resolve. Diego broke the silence, his voice low and deliberate, the calm anchor to my storm.