Isolde remained just inside the doorway for a moment, her fingers still resting against the rough wood, while her eyes moved slowly across the interior, taking in the thin layer of dust that coated nearly every surface and the faint scent of dried herbs that lingered stubbornly in the air.
Maria stepped in behind her and immediately coughed, waving her hand dramatically in front of her face like she could physically push the dust away.
"This is horrible," Maria said with exaggerated seriousness, her voice echoing slightly in the quiet room. "I refuse to believe you once lived in a place that looks like it has been personally abandoned by life itself."
Isolde glanced at her, one eyebrow lifting slightly, and although she tried to maintain her composure, there was the faintest trace of amusement in her expression.
"You did live here once," she replied calmly, stepping further inside and brushing her fingers lightly across a nearby surface, leaving a clean streak through the dust.
Maria folded her arms and turned in a slow circle, her face filled with disbelief. "Yes, but I came with my parents before their death," she said. "I have since grown, evolved, and developed a deep appreciation for environments that do not to murder me."
Isolde exhaled softly. "Then I suppose this is an opportunity for you to reconnect with your past and parents," she said.
Maria stared at her for a long moment before shaking her head. "Certainly, a chance to reconcile with my parents.
Despite everything, Isolde let out a quiet laugh.
"We should clean," Isolde said after a moment, her tone shifting back to practical as she moved toward the window. "If we are going to stay here, then we need to make it livable."
Maria let out a dramatic sigh, but she reached for a cloth anyway. "If I collapse halfway through this process, I want it clearly stated that I died doing something noble," she said.
"I will make sure your story is told and shared with great dignity," Isolde replied, pushing the window open with some effort and allowing fresh air to flood into the room.
"Make me sound heroic," Maria added quickly with slight humor in her voice.
"Of course." Isolde replied.
"And brave." Maria added.
"Absolutely." Isolde said again
Maria nodded once, satisfied. "Then I accept my fate." Then, Isolde shot a quick look at Maria and burst out laughing. Maria followed in the laughter and they laughed out heartedly.
---
They spent hours cleaning, and although the task itself was simple, it required patience and persistence because grease and dust had settled deeply and had clung to the corners and surfaces of the house.
Isolde moved through the house with quiet focus, straightening objects and clearing away the dust with steady, deliberate motions, while Maria kept complaining continuously about every little place she cleaned.
At one point, Maria held up something unidentifiable between two fingers and stared at it with exaggerated suspicion.
"Hey Isolde, see this, it looks edible and crunchy," she announced.
Isolde glanced over briefly. "Please do not eat that."
Maria looked offended. "I have great standards even if I don't act like it."
"Alright," Isolde said.
By the time they finished, the house still bore the marks of time and hardship, but it no longer felt abandoned. It was now livable.
---
They eventually sat down, exhaustion settling into their bodies, and for a while neither of them spoke. Then, Maria broke it first.
"So," she said slowly, turning toward Isolde, "are you planning to explain everything now, or are we continuing the strategy of pretending that nothing about this situation is deeply alarming?"
Isolde leaned back slightly and let out a slow breath.
"I was hoping to delay that conversation," she admitted.
Maria stared at her with disbelief. "You carried forbidden knowledge out of the most guarded place in existence and used magic where magic is punishable by death, and we just fled an entire region because of it, so I do not think delay is an option."
Isolde closed her eyes briefly and then nodded. "Yes," she said. "You are right."
She hesitated for a moment before speaking again, her hand unconsciously resting against her gown where the hidden words lay etched against her skin.
Then she began to explain everything.
---
When she finished recounting the truth, Maria remained completely still, her expression frozen somewhere between shock and disbelief.
"That is not the prophecy we were taught," Maria said slowly.
"No," Isolde replied. "It is not."
Maria shook her head. "The one we know speaks of destruction and chaos, and it warns us to fear the child, but what you just described and what I just read… this is something entirely different."
Isolde nodded, her voice quieter now. "It was changed."
Maria's eyes widened slightly. "Changed?" she repeated. "You mean deliberately?"
"Yes," Isolde said. "Someone rewrote it."
Maria leaned back, processing that in silence before letting out a short, disbelieving laugh. "Wow! this is… deeply concerning," she said.
"Yes," Isolde agreed.
Maria looked at her again, more serious this time. "Then tell me the real one," she said.
Isolde closed her eyes briefly and began to recite the prophecy from memory, her voice steady and measured, carrying the weight of every word as it settled into the room.
---
When she finished, the silence that followed was heavier than before, but it was not empty, because it was filled with realization.
"That is not a prophecy of destruction," Maria said slowly. "That is a prophecy of change."
"You got it now," Isolde replied.
"And they turned it into something else entirely," Maria added.
"They turned and changed the prophecy into fear," Isolde said.
Maria exhaled sharply. "Of course they did," she said. "Fear is easier to control."
"What do we do now?" Maria asked.
Isolde looked at her, and for a moment there was uncertainty in her expression, but it did not last.
"We tell the others," she said. Maria blinked. "All of them?"
"Nah, just few of them."
Maria hesitated briefly, then nodded. "Alright," she said. "Let us ruin some people's sense of stability together. Let's spread the truth."
---
The witches they called gathered quickly, because word carried urgency when it needed to, and soon the courtyard of the small house was filled with quiet voices and questioning eyes.
When Isolde spoke, she did not hold anything back, and as she explained the truth, the reactions spread through the room like ripples.
"That cannot be true," one said.
"It is not what we were taught and told," another added.
"That is exactly my point," Maria said firmly.
Isolde stepped forward slightly. "The prophecy was changed," she said. "Not misunderstood. Changed."
Hearing Isolde's words, the witches went silent.
---
"What happens if you are right?" someone asked.
Isolde met their gaze. "If the crimson moon appears," she said, "then a child will be born."
"And the vampires will try to kill it," Maria added.
"What is the crimson moon?" another witch asked.
One of the older witches spoke, her voice thoughtful. "It is said to have appeared once, long ago, during the conflict between witches and Blue Weavers, but many believe it to be a myth."
"It is not a myth," Isolde said quietly.
"Then if the signs described in the prophecy appear… we will protect the child."
The words settled heavily and slowly, one by one, the others agreed.
---
Later that night, after they had all left, Maria leaned back against the wall and sighed. "Well," she said, "we have officially made everything more complicated."
Isolde smiled faintly. "Yes," she said.
Maria glanced at her. "Do you regret it, everything?"
Isolde shook her head slowly. "No, not at all " she said. I did not regret it at all from stumbling into the archives to the escape flight."
"And I think this is the first time my mischief paid off well," she said with a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.