Canvas of Prophecy

s outside growing longer and darker with each passing moment. Inside, the room was bathed in a soft glo

's words echoed in his thoughts, chilling him to the bone: "The future

igure still standing at the edge of the canvas. She seemed to be watching him, her eyes burning with a strange, othe

ponsibility-and great danger. And now, Jareth had confirmed that others knew of his power. They wanted to use it for thei

Elias feeling unsettled, as though a dark presence had been left behind in his wake. Every time Elias looked at t

image. It was alive in some way, pulsing with a strange energy that made the air around it feel heavy, oppressive.

hadn't slept properly in days, and the stress of everything that had happened wa

d to find a way to prevent the destruction he had seen in his vision. But how? Calen had mentioned a temple far to the north, wh

almost like the rustling of fabric. Elias froze, his hand hovering over his

his shelves, and the scattered canvases lining the walls. But as his gaze lingered, he noticed something strange-a patch o

in his throat. It didn't move like a normal shadow. It seemed to pulse, almost lik

Was this some side effect of his visions, or had Jareth done something to him? He couldn't be sure

t across the room. The shadows in the corner seemed to shrink back at the touch of the light, but the

e was seeing. The shadow was taking on a shape-a figure, cl

eath quickening. "Who's there?

ing around it, its features obscured by the darkness. But Elias could feel it

ething Jareth had sent? Was it part of the vision? Or was

ght of the lantern. Its face remained hidden, but Elias could make out the fain

t human, and it wasn't friendly. He backed toward the door, his eyes never leavi

it," a voice whisp

a chill down his spine. It seemed to come from everywhere and

ias asked, his voice b

more intensely around it. "You've seen the future," it sa

for this," he said, his voice tremb

. "It doesn't matter what you want," it said. "The future has be

it was-was connected to the vision, to the destruction of

Elias said, his voice

ing. "I am the shadow of what is to come," it whi

nd with it, a terrifying realization. This thing wasn't just a shadow. It was a manif

ising with desperation. "I can change th

a moment. Then, it spoke again, its voice dripping wit

ng. But he refused to believe it. He couldn't believe it. There had

s said, his voice trembling

ment, Elias thought he saw a flicker of someth

und by the threads of fate. Your gift is

down on him like a heavy shroud, but he fought against it. He couldn't give in to th

ing more light into the room. The shadows recoiled, the figure shrin

ts voice echoing in Elias's mind. "You c

ntern steady. "I will change it," he said, his voice stronger

ou will try," it said, its voice dripping with contempt. "B

ng as they faded back into the darkness of the room. In a matter of moments,

again, but the shadows on the walls seemed deeper, more oppressive. He lowered

state of exhaustion and fear? He didn't know. But one thing was clear: the darkness wasn't

something he had seen in his painting. It was coming fo

woman's haunting figure. Everything in the image seemed to pulse with a dark ene

pered to himself, his voice barely au

d. The shadow had been clear-he couldn't change what was already wri

was

ere had to be a way to alter the course of events. If his art could

art. But he couldn't give up. The fate of Arithria

s from the corner of the room. He placed it on the easel next to the painting of

ut he knew that it had to be something diffe

nd him as he dipped the brush into the paint. H