"He's… alive…?"
Ruby's eyes widened. This—
How could he still be alive? She remembered correctly. She had to be remembering correctly. His death had been a continent-wide spectacle for months. The bards had sung of his heroic sacrifice for years afterward. It was a fixed point! A cornerstone of the history!
"Ruby… are you okay?" Nikolas asked, concerned. "Could it be… the vision might have a double meaning and you only saw some parts of it?"
The offered lifeline was a noose. Her heart sank, collapsing in on itself. No. She could not, under any circumstances, be seen as wrong. Her plans, her carefully constructed pedestal, her entire future… it would all crumble to dust.
A new set of tears welled in her eyes, this time she looked happy and grateful, yet confused. "Maybe… I misunderstood the prophecy," she whispered, letting the tears trace delicate paths down her cheeks. "I saw His Majesty Dawnoro engulfed in hot clouds and ashes… so I thought… thank the gods that he's alright…!"
