Icarus cast a glance at Agatha.
"Won't she hear?"
Caelum shook his head. "I've cast a spell. Her senses are sealed… for now."
Icarus raised a brow. "You can do that?"
Caelum smiled faintly. "The God of the Future holds power you know nothing of."
Icarus pulled the blanket tighter around himself.
"Tell me about him then. Where is he from?"
Caelum's expression went cold.
"The origins of a God are not for mortals to question."
Icarus chuckled under his breath. "So he told you nothing."
"Silence!" Caelum snapped.
The air tightened.
Then, more quietly—"What do you want to know?"
Icarus lay back down, staring at the ceiling.
"It's not like you'll help."
Caelum's jaw clenched.
"Don't you want to know the future?"
"What's the point?" Icarus said flatly. "It's not like I can change it."
A pause.
Icarus could almost hear Caelum grinding his teeth.
Pathetic, he thought. He needs control over something—anything.
"Why are you so bitter?"
Caelum stilled.
For a moment, something flickered across his face—then it was gone.
"Bitter?" he said smoothly. "Look at yourself."
Icarus let out a hollow laugh.
"Oh, I am bitter. But at least I have a reason." His eyes shifted toward him. "What about you?"
Caelum stepped closer to the bed.
"The things of my future are not your concern."
Icarus met his gaze.
"You're bitter because of your future?"
A thin smile.
"You've ruined my life."
Icarus tilted his head slightly. "Already?"
"Rather—you will."
And then—
Caelum's hand snapped around his throat.
No warning.
No hesitation.
Just pressure.
Icarus choked, clawing at his wrist as the air was forced from his lungs.
Caelum watched him for a moment… then sighed and let go.
"Forget it," he muttered. "They won't let you die anyway."
Icarus coughed violently, dragging in air, his fingers trembling at his neck.
"Who… won't?"
Caelum looked almost tired.
"Fate. The Gods. The future." He exhaled. "All of them."
"You're not even sure?"
Caelum gave a quiet, humorless laugh.
"Seeing the future isn't as clear as you think. It speaks in riddles." His voice dropped. "Sometimes I wonder if it was worth giving up my sight for."
Icarus shifted under his blanket, settling back in.
"Then tell me your story."
Caelum dragged a chair over and sat beside him.
"Do you know the secrets of Morvane?"
Icarus shook his head.
Caelum smiled.
"They have a ritual. Every King of Morvane is born with a Prophet."
Icarus blinked. "That's… strange."
"Isn't it?" Caelum said softly.
"The God of the Future blessed the first King. Prophets are fragments of Him. We are not born… we are made."
"At the moment a King is born, so is his Prophet. Bound for life."
"Are all followers Prophets?" Icarus asked.
Caelum shook his head. "No. Most come later. Devotion is learned."
A hollow chuckle.
"But those born into it… are trapped."
"What about you?"
Caelum leaned back.
"I am a Prophet." A pause. "Or I was."
"My King is dead."
Icarus hesitated. "What happened?"
Caelum's smile returned—sharp this time.
"He insulted my Lord. Refused tribute."
"And then?"
Caelum's fingers brushed Icarus' hair almost absently.
"My Lord spoke to me in a dream." His voice softened. "He said, 'Kill him.'"
A beat.
"So I did."
Icarus went still.
"I slit his throat before dawn."
Caelum's smile widened, almost blissful.
"And then… we were freed. No more Kings. No more chains."
"I was chosen."
"To see my own future."
Icarus frowned. "Prophets can't see their own?"
"No," Caelum said. "We give up the present… to see the future."
"How?"
A quiet pause.
"When we are born, the High Priest scatters our sight across the fabric of time itself."
Icarus swallowed.
"And in return?"
"We see our King's future." Caelum's voice turned hollow. "Because that is our future."
"But not anymore."
"Why?"
Caelum's hand rested lightly on Icarus' head.
"Because I burned the High Priest alive."
A small smile.
"And took his place."
"I am the first Prophet who sees his own future."
Silence filled the room.
"You know why I despise you?" Caelum asked softly.
Icarus shook his head.
"Because you are fated to kill my Lord."
The words settled like poison.
Icarus blinked. "I've never even—"
Caelum's grip tightened painfully in his hair.
"As a fragment of Him… I die too."
His voice trembled now—not with fear.
With hatred.
"I hate you."
"I hate you with everything I am."
"All I've done to be free… and you will end it."
His hand shook.
"I would kill you if I could."
A pause.
"But I can't."
His grip loosened.
"So I'll watch instead."
"I'll watch you suffer."
Icarus forced himself to speak.
"How do you know? You said your visions are riddles."
Caelum smiled thinly.
"You have no idea what you become."
He stood.
"Farewell, Icarus."
His voice softened—almost gentle.
"May your future hurt more than my end."
And then—
he vanished.