Rain

When we got closer to the blood moon, the Spiritborn repeated the same shit about the twins. I hated it. It didn’t give us anything to go off of and just made it more complicated.

How were we supposed to be constantly dealing with all this bullshit? I shook my head, wishing it could just be straightforward.

Talking in riddles was not for me. I hated riddles.

The Spiritborn vanished into mist, same as always—no follow-up, no clarity, just that damn echo of its voice hanging in the air like smoke.

“There will be a blood moon,” it had said. “And the twins will be center stage.”

That was...