Ivy." He turned from me and walked into a dead end. The walls were coated with golden flowers dripping in jewels. The ground gleamed bright blue with chunks of sapphires forming an ornate pattern in the floor. It looked beautiful, just like any other part of the Lorren.
Lorren reached his hand out and pushed his fingers through the golden flowers. The long ropes of flowers slid aside as if they were on a curtain rod. Lorren walked the length of the maze wall, pulling back sections of flowers revealing hidden paintings below. The paintings were large and secretly hung beneath the mounds of jeweled roses and lilies, undisturbed and unnoticed. Scanning the wall, I watched as Lorren revealed painting after painting. The alcove in which they hung was massive. I turned, following him to see each painting in the series reveal more vibrant colors. Arms folded, I watched waiting to see whatever it was he thought was so important, but after a minute I saw for myself - the painting from the church.
My heart raced in my chest as my arms fell to my sides. Walking towards it, I was sure that it was the painting I'd stolen. The same painting that Collin had taken when he threw himself down here in my place. It depicted me standing precariously on a tiny stone, barely holding onto the fingers of a boy. It still looked uncertain as to whether or not I was trying to pull him up or drop him. I stared at the painting with my mouth hanging open. Lorren stopped, as that was the last painting he revealed, and stood next to it.
I walked over to it slowly, asking, "Where did you get that?" The painting - the prophecy - had caused so much trouble. This was the one that the Martis had protected forever and now it was in Hell, in the Lorren with a Valefar. The more I gazed at it, the more confused I became. I didn't see the apocalypse. I didn't see the destruction that they spoke of. I saw a terrified girl and a boy about to fall out of her grip. Collin.
He snapped his fingers to get my attention, which infuriated me. I wasn't a dog. "Pay attention," Lorren snapped. "That isn't the only part of the prophecy that matters. The Martis guarded that old thing for years, but it's only part of what happens. The rest of these tell the story as well. No doubt you didn't realize there was more to this, right?"
I shrugged. "I knew there were more." Collin had mentioned other prophecy paintings. There had been thirteen in all, but I'd only seen the one. Lorren gestured for me to come over and look at the canvases. Dread crawled out of the pit of my stomach and climbed up my throat, as I walked closer to examine them. These held details that I didn't know about, details that I was fairly certain I didn't want to know. These were worse than my visions. I couldn't tell what my visions were doing or if they were real or not. But these paintings - the prophecies - they were iron clad. Whatever they said would happen, would happen.
I swallowed hard, stopping next to Lorren. He looked down at me. I gazed straight at the horror encased in paint in front of me. Golden eyes were the only trace of the boy I knew. The rest of his features were contorted with hatred. "Eric." My hand reached out to touch the ancient paint. Lorren watched me, but said nothing. The painting depicted Eric confronting me after he turned Valefar. It showed him pressing me against the massive stone with hatred. I was depicted meekly shying away from him with a sorrowful look on my face. There was no fear in my eyes. My stomach twisted as I looked at it. That painting had already happened. Eric was irate when he found me. He blamed me for his death. He was no longer the kind, caring boy I knew. He was a deranged Valefar intent on making me suffer a horrible death. That confrontation scared me so deeply that I still trembled remembering it. I quickly shoved my hands in my pockets so Lorren wouldn't see. The only reason Eric left me alone was because he wanted to kill Shannon first. She was the one who doused him with Brimstone. I was sure of it. And so was he.
Lorren watched me carefully.