Caelan grew up as an orphan in the shadow of Avaloria’s palace, scraping by on the streets and bound by the ruthless thieves’ guild that demanded his loyalty. He never felt right in his own skin, never found his purpose, only his friends kept him from despair: Eira, the beautiful thief he secretly loved and longed to be like; Thorne, the mercenary who pulled him out of crime; and Alric, a healer who gave hope to the hopeless.

When Caelan is wrongly accused of a crime and the palace guards begin hunting him and his friends, his world falls apart. With nowhere to turn, a mysterious stranger offers a way out; a dangerous mission to find the lost princess of Avaloria. With everything to gain and nothing left to lose, Caelan and his friends set off on a journey that will change them, and their kingdom, forever.

Author’s Note: This is a full-length novel of nearly 100,000 words. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I had writing it.

Prologue

 

The chamber was dim, the heavy velvet curtains drawn tight against the sunlight. Only the soft flicker of magic lights dared illuminate the room, casting shadows across the stone walls and embroidered tapestries. The scent of fading meadow flowers hung in the air, barely masking the sickly, sweet odor of decay that clung to Queen Lisandra's weakening body. She lay on the grand, four-poster bed, her pale skin slick with sweat. Dark hair matted against her forehead, damp from the fever that raged through her. Her hand, trembling and delicate, rested on the slight swell of her belly.

A low moan escaped her chapped lips as she struggled to breathe. Each inhale was a rasp, a battle. The queen’s once vibrant beauty was now a ghost, her strength eroded to almost nothing.

King Cedric of the kingdom of Avaloria stood at the foot of the bed, staring at her, his face a mask of rage and despair. His hands, usually steady with command, were clenched into fists at his sides. He trembled, but not from fear or weakness; no, it was his magic, powerful and volatile, rippling from him like a heatwave. The air around him crackled, unnerving the attendants who lingered by the door, too frightened to approach but to bound by duty to leave.

“All this power,” Cedric growled through gritted teeth. “All my strength, and it means nothing! Nothing!” His voice boomed, shaking the stone walls of the chamber. The maids flinched, their eyes wide with terror. “What good is being the most powerful in the kingdom if I can't save my own wife!”

He stormed to the side of the bed, his hand brushing Lisandra's limp fingers. “I can’t…” his voice broke, just for a moment, before his anger surged back like a tide. “Damn it, I will not lose her.”

The king’s gaze locked on one of the trembling servants. “Bring Eldra! Now!”

The maid scurried away, and within minutes, the doors creaked open. Eldra entered the room like a shadow. She was flanked by guards, her movements unhurried, her expression one of quiet defiance. She was cloaked in dark, dirty robes, her eyes glinting with an unreadable intensity as she stood before the king, showing neither fear nor deference.

King Cedric’s magic surged as he turned to face her. “You will heal her,” he demanded, his voice like the crack of thunder.

Eldra smirked, folding her arms across her chest. “Will I?” Her voice was calm, almost bored, and yet it cut through the tension like a blade. “Why should I lift a finger for you, Cedric, after what you did to my family?”

The king's eyes blazed with fury. “Your family,” he spat, “were traitors to the magic bestowed upon you. You’re no innocent victim, Eldra. You became what you are by sacrificing others, draining their magic to feed your own twisted greed for power.”

Eldra shrugged, stepping closer to the bed, her gaze falling on the queen. “Perhaps. But you, King Cedric, are no different. You wield your power like a club, smashing anything in your way. And now you stand here, asking me to use my magic that you so despise.” Her eyes gleamed with something dark, something dangerous. “You want me to save your wife even though you have condemned me.”

Cedric’s jaw tightened, his hands shaking as he struggled to rein in the chaos of emotions roiling inside him. “Heal her,” he snarled, “or I swear by all the gods…”

“You will kill me?” Eldra laughed softly, her voice lilting with mockery. “What good will that do you now? You need me, Cedric. She and your heir will die without me.”

She knelt by Lisandra’s side, her fingers lightly touching the queen's burning forehead. “But you should know, king, that I would need some of your magic to help me. Such healing requires a price. You are willing to pay, are you not?”

The king’s face twisted as he glared at Eldra. “What do you want, witch? Name your price.”

Eldra tilted her head, a slow, unsettling smile creeping across her lips. “My freedom,” she said softly, her voice like the whisper of a blade being drawn. “I wish to return to the North, to my homeland. No more persecution, no more threats of the gallows or the pyre. I want to live free of your kingdom’s reach and stench.”

King Cedric’s eyes flashed with anger. His knuckles whitened around the queen’s bedpost, but he knew he had little choice. Lisandra’s life was slipping away, and without Eldra, there would be no saving her. He breathed heavily, each exhale a storm of fury, but finally nodded, his voice strained. “You would blackmail me at my wife’s deathbed?”

Eldra merely shrugged. “It seems that way.”

The king’s nostrils flared, but his next words came slower, more calculated. “Very well. You will have your freedom, but I require more than your word. A blood oath.”

Her smile faltered for the briefest of moments. Eldra’s eyes narrowed, the dim magic lights reflecting in them as if she were calculating her next move. The tension between the two tightened. “You are careful, Cedric, I will give you that.” She stepped closer, her black robes rustling with a quiet menace. “And what would this blood oath entail?”

King Cedric steadied himself, each word he spoke laced with the careful caution of a ruler who knew the price of power. “Eldra, I swear before all forces that bind and divide this world, this shall be our oath. You will heal my wife, so she lives, unharmed in body, and ensure that our unborn child survives to full term, free of illness or defect. You will preserve my reign, though the years may wear on me, I shall remain king until my last natural breath, and no hand of magic nor blade of fate shall sever my rule prematurely.”

He drew a deep breath, his gaze steely. “In return, I shall grant you your freedom to leave this kingdom. If you travel directly from the kingdom and never return, you will face no persecution, and my people shall leave you unmolested.”

Cedric’s voice hardened as he laid down his final terms. “But if you deceive or betray this oath, if you bend even a word of it, then may you find yourself cursed and forever bound, unable to set foot in this kingdom again. This pact will stand until my natural passing and not one day longer and may all who bear witness know that any breach shall bring down the weight of our wrath upon you.”

With that, he fell silent, sealing his words with a final, unyielding gaze.

Eldra's eyes flickered with something dark and dangerous as she considered. “Is that all, then? Your oath is very well thought out leaving no loopholes.”

“You will take a blood oath, or you will die. I know your kind. I will not be so easily ensnared by your games.”

Eldra’s smile vanished entirely. Her gaze burned into his, but after a moment, her hand darted out, grabbing Cedric’s ornate dagger from his sheath. The polished blade gleamed cold and mercilessly in the floating magical lights.

The guards around the room stiffened, hands moving to the hilts of their swords, but Eldra paid them no mind. She held the dagger up, meeting the king’s gaze with a defiant smirk. Without hesitation, she slashed her palm, blood welling up from the cut, dark and thick. She handed the dagger to the king, her eyes daring him to back down.

King Cedric paused for only a second before accepting the dagger. He drew the blade across his own palm, hissing as the cold steel bit into his flesh. The guards murmured in unease, but he ignored them. This was his choice, his sacrifice.

Blood dripped from both their hands as they reached out and clasped each other’s palms, sealing the oath. The coldness of Eldra's skin startled him, as though death itself ran through her veins.

“I agree to your terms,” Eldra murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, yet it echoed in the chamber like a spell. “And you to mine.”

A jolt of magic passed between them. Eldra's eyes flickered with a dark light, her lips twitching into a satisfied smile as the blood pact was sealed. She pulled her hand free and stepped toward Queen Lisandra.

The king could feel the pull on his magic before Eldra even began healing his wife, a wrenching sensation in his gut, like something vital being siphoned from him. He staggered but remained standing, his breathing growing ragged.

Eldra extended her hand over the queen, her fingers glowing with an eerie, otherworldly light. The air around her darkened with energy as she began to chant in a low, guttural voice. The magic lights flickered wildly as they were slowly pulled toward her as if drawn by her magic. The chamber seemed to shrink, the very walls pressing in as the power surged.

Cedric groaned, clutching his chest as his magic drained from him, his knees buckling. He struggled to stay upright, but it felt like his very life was being pulled away, unraveling like a thread. He could feel the power leaving him, everything that made him the king, the strength that had held his kingdom together, now being ripped from his soul.

The queen stirred on the bed, her breathing growing stronger. Color returned to her cheeks, and the sweat dried on her brow. Her eyes fluttered open, and for the first time in weeks, there was life in them. She looked at Cedric, confused, but alive.

Lisandra sat up with a soft gasp escaping her lips. “Cedric?” she whispered, her voice no longer raspy but clear.

The king, barely able to keep himself standing, looked at her with a mixture of relief and horror. He had saved her. But the price…

He collapsed to his knees, the world spinning around him. He felt hollow, like a shell of the man he had been moments ago. His magic was gone. Completely.

“What have you done?” he gasped, staring up at Eldra, whose face now shone with smug satisfaction.

“I fulfilled the oath,” she said with a mocking bow. “Did I not say to you I needed your magic to heal her?” She turned, her dark cloak swirling around her like a storm. “And now, I will take my leave. Enjoy your reign, Cedric. However long it lasts.”

With a triumphant laugh, she vanished in a swirl of dark energy, leaving the king on his knees, powerless.

 

***

 

Three months had passed, and the bells tolled across the city of Avloria heralding the pending birth of the new heir to the kingdom. Inside the queen's chamber, the atmosphere was frantic. The air was thick with sweat, fear, and the painful cries of Queen Lisandra, whose anguished wails seemed to make the very walls tremble. Servants rushed in and out of the room, carrying linens, water, and whispers of hope, for they had felt the lack of power in their king and the heir would restore what was lost.

On the bed, Lisandra writhed in pain, her beautiful face twisted with effort and exhaustion. Her light brown hair clung to her damp forehead, and her once regal gown was soaked through with sweat. Each scream that tore from her lips sent a ripple of panic through the chamber.

King Cedric knelt at her side, his face drawn and pale, his hand gripping hers as though his touch alone could anchor her to life. “Breathe, darling,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, struggling to maintain calm in the storm of her pain. “You’re doing so well. Just breathe. Our child is almost here.”

Lisandra’s head lolled back against the pillows, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Between contractions, her eyes found his, and for a fleeting moment, her lips curved into a weak smile. “Our heir... will be powerful, my king,” she rasped, barely able to form the words between waves of agony. “My magic... and yours... combined. The kingdom will be saved.”

Cedric forced a smile, but the fire in his eyes had long since faded. He looked haggard, a shell of the man he once was. Without his magic, he was vulnerable. His vibrance, the energy that once defined him, had been drained away by the witch’s theft. He could no longer protect his queen, his child, or his kingdom.

He nodded. Her words were a poignant reminder of his failure. His kingdom, yes, but at what cost? He gripped her hand tighter as another scream ripped through her, her body arching with the pain of the final push.

An old midwife, hunched and stooped, hovered at the foot of the bed, her gnarled hands reaching for the infant as it emerged. The baby’s wail pierced the air, sharp and pure, the sound of new life.

“A girl!” the midwife exclaimed, her voice croaking as she quickly bundled the infant in a swath of soft, white cloth. “A healthy, strong girl!”

Lisandra, her eyes glistening with relief, stretched out her trembling arms. “Let me hold her,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. “Let me see my daughter.”

The midwife sneered at the queen even as the air shimmered around her. Before anyone could react, her form shifted, the stooped, frail figure straightening, lengthening. Her skin rippled, and her gnarled hands became slender, her features twisting into something far more sinister. The midwife transformed, replaced by Eldra.

The witch stood tall and terrible, cradling the newborn in her arms, a twisted smile curling her lips. Her eyes glittered with malice as she held the infant aloft, as if showing off a trophy.

“Eldra!” Cedric bellowed, his face contorted in rage. He staggered to his feet, the effort draining what little strength he had left. “Guards! Kill her!”

The royal guards sprang forward, but before they could close the distance, Eldra’s magic flared. A violent gust of energy exploded from her, tossing the guards aside like leaves in the wind. They crashed into the walls, their armor clattering as they fell uselessly to the floor.

Eldra’s laughter filled the chamber, a cold, mocking sound that sent shivers down every spine. She gazed down at the baby girl in her arms, her smile fading into something darker, more menacing. “So fragile,” she whispered, stroking the infant’s cheek with a long, bony finger. “Such innocence. And yet, your fate is sealed, young one.”

“Give her back!” Lisandra cried, her voice raw and desperate. She tried to rise from the bed, but her body was too weak, her strength spent. “Please, Eldra! Don’t do this!”

But Eldra’s eyes were fixed on the baby, her expression hardening. “I was taken, held prisoner, my family killed by your decree, Cedric,” she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. “And so, this child shall be taken from you.”

Cedric staggered forward, helpless fury burning in his chest. “You have no right! You agreed…”

“I agreed to heal your wife, and I did,” Eldra interrupted coldly, her voice cutting through the king’s protest like a blade. “But this... this is the price for your arrogance.”

She turned her gaze back to the baby, her eyes glowing with unnatural light. “Hear me now, King Cedric and Queen Lisandra,” she intoned, her voice rising, filling the room with the power of her curse. “This child will never know her place in this world, for she shall be lost to you. Hidden away, beyond your reach.”

Lisandra sobbed, her hands clutching at the sheets, her heart breaking with every word. “Please... no...”

Eldra’s smile twisted into something wicked and cruel. “Before she comes of age, before she can take her rightful place, she must make a momentous sacrifice. A selfless act of the purest heart. Only then will she understand her place and the kingdom be restored. Only then will the magic return.”

Cedric fell to his knees, his voice cracking. “No... you can’t...”

But it was too late. Eldra cradled the infant close, her eyes blazing as the final words of her curse echoed through the chamber. “Until then, your kingdom will rot. Your wealth will wither. And you, King Cedric, will watch as everything you built crumbles to dust.”

With a flourish of her cloak, Eldra vanished into a cloud of dark smoke, taking the princess with her. The room fell into a stunned, deafening silence.

The only sound left was Queen Lisandra’s anguished scream, reverberating through the night like a harbinger of the ruin yet to come.

 

***

Present day - Seventeen years and ten months later…

 

The palace loomed above me, its once pristine towers now smeared with the grime of neglect. Cracked stone walls, dulled by years of abandonment, cast shadows across the courtyard where no flowers bloomed anymore, only weeds. Once, Avaloria had gleamed with the brightness of hope and of power. Now, the banners hanging from the high walls were faded and torn, flapping listlessly in the wind like ghosts of a better time. The air itself smelled of decay, of something rotting from the inside out. And wasn’t that the truth of it?

The kingdom was falling apart, just like the palace. The people were starving, streets filled with beggars whose faces reflected the same hollow-eyed hunger that gnawed at my own gut most days. Some whispered that the king, cloistered away in his crumbling fortress, had forgotten about us. Others speculated darker things, that he simply didn’t care anymore, that the loss of the princess had driven him mad. Maybe they were right. Maybe the king had abandoned us all, locked away with his grief, waiting for his kingdom to collapse.

I didn’t know. I didn’t care. Not really. It wasn’t my place to solve the problems of the kingdom when it was just a daily effort to survive.

The truth was, I had grown up in the shadow of that palace, never expecting a damn thing from it or the ruling family who lived in it. I was just another orphan on the streets, scraping by like the rest. The thieves' guild had trained me well enough, taught me how to slip a coin purse from a belt without the owner ever knowing, and how to fight with my hands and blade. They were grooming me to be an assassin. They taught me how to survive and had given me shelter, but that life wasn’t for me. Deep down, I was never proud of taking from someone who already had so little.

Thankfully, I had clawed my way out of that cesspool. I paid my orphan debts through bartering, trading, and working where I could. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was honest work. Mostly. Some habits die hard, and in a kingdom where the wealthy turned their backs on the poor, sometimes a man had to bend the rules to survive. I did what I could to help those most in need, but I kept to my own code, one that didn’t involve stabbing someone in the back or stealing from those who had even less than I did.

But today, as I stood in the market square, staring up at the palace, I couldn’t shake the feeling that things were getting worse. Darker. Like the rot that had settled over the kingdom wasn’t just hunger or poverty. It was something deeper, something that couldn’t be fixed with a few stolen apples or a warm meal for a beggar. The kingdom was on a precipice, a point of no return.

The wind shifted, carrying the scent of rain on the air, and I turned away from the palace, pulling my cloak tighter around me. I had work to do. Always work to do. That was the only way to keep the darkness at bay. Keep moving, keep helping where I could. The alternative? Well, I wasn’t going to end up like the king hiding away in some dank room, waiting for the world to fall apart around me.

But even as I walked through the narrow, muddy streets of the lower city, I couldn’t shake the sense that something was coming. Something big. Something I might not be able to outrun this time.

 

***

 

I was sitting in a dim corner of one of the lower city’s few half-decent eateries, nursing a stale loaf of bread and some questionable ale, when she walked in. Eira. Damn her. Even through the haze of smoke and the dull chatter of the crowd, she stood out like a flame in the darkness. She always had that effect.

Her long, red hair fell in wild waves around her shoulders, and her green eyes, sharp, cunning, and filled with a dangerous spark scanned the room before locking onto me. My heart did its usual little flip, the one I hated but couldn't stop. She strode over to my table like she owned the place, light on her feet, graceful in a way that only made me more painfully aware of myself.

I hated it. Hated how her beauty tugged at something deep inside me, something raw, something that never quite fit. She had everything I didn’t. Her femininity, her confidence in who she was, all of it toyed with my mind, mocking me. I wasn’t right. I had never felt right. I was stuck in this body that didn’t belong to me. A body that felt more like a cage than a skin. But at the same time, I couldn’t help but long for her, drawn to her in a way that twisted up every part of me.

Eira sat down without asking, flashing me that smug little grin of hers. “You look like you’re brooding, Caelan,” she said, pulling a chunk of bread from my plate and popping it into her mouth. “Heard the news?”

I rolled my eyes. “What news?”

“The thieves’ guild wants you back.” She leaned in, lowering her voice, and the scent of her, something wild and untamed, filled my nose. “You were good, Cae. Damn good. They miss you.”

“Not interested,” I muttered, tearing off a piece of bread and shoving it into my mouth, chewing a little harder than necessary.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” she teased. “The streets aren’t getting any kinder. And you know as well as I do, this kingdom is sinking fast. You need people around you. You won’t survive on your own. The guild is not so bad, really.”

Before I could reply, the door to the eatery swung open with a loud crash, and two burly men swaggered in. The kind that reeked of cheap booze and trouble. I could feel their eyes on Eira before they even crossed the room.

“Well, well,” one of them sneered, stumbling closer. “What have we here? A pretty little thing all alone with this worthless piece of trash?”

Eira didn’t even blink. She leaned back, cool and unbothered, her lips curling into a smirk. “Not interested, boys.”

The larger of the two snorted. “Oh, you’re interested. You just don’t know it yet.” He reached out a grubby hand toward her arm.

That was when the red mist descended over my vision. I didn’t even think. I just stood up and grabbed the guy by the wrist before he could touch her. “Back off,” I growled.

The thug turned to me, his face twisting in a mix of amusement and anger. “Or what, runt?”

I didn’t give him time to answer. My fist connected with his jaw before he could even flinch. His head snapped back, and I heard the satisfying crunch of bone. Eira was on her feet in an instant, moving with the speed and grace of someone who knew how to survive. The second man lunged at her, but she sidestepped him easily, slamming her knee into his groin and sending him crashing into a nearby table.

It was a blur after that. We fought together like it was second nature. I don’t know how, but it felt… right. Eira moved like a dancer, graceful and deadly, and I followed her lead without even thinking. We dispatched the thugs quickly, but not without drawing attention. I heard whistles in the streets. The owner of the eatery came rushing over, his face pale.

“Caelan,” he hissed, looking nervously toward the door. “You need to get out of here before the guards come. You’re a good man, but you’re gonna get yourself hanged if you stay here.”

Man. The word made me flinch. But I nodded. I couldn’t argue. “Thanks,” I muttered.

Eira grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the back exit. “Come on,” she whispered, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

We slipped out into the alley, the cold rain hitting us like a wall. It soaked through my clothes in seconds, but it didn’t matter. Eira was laughing, spinning in circles as the rain plastered her hair to her face, her eyes alight with wild, untamed joy. And for a moment, despite everything, I laughed too. The heaviness that always hung over me lifted, if only for a little while.

“You fight well, Cae,” she teased, nudging me playfully as we made our way down the slick alley.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” I shot back, but the truth was, I knew she was better than me. She always had been. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was always chasing after her, after something I could never quite reach.

She smiled at me, her eyes catching mine for a moment longer than I expected. And for that brief second, I thought maybe, just maybe, there was something more between us than just friendship, than just the guild or the streets.

But then the moment passed, and we were just two soaked street rats, running through the rain, laughing at the chaos we had left behind.

 

***

 

Queen Lisandra shooed the guards and servants from the king’s chambers. She waited patiently for them to leave. When the doors finally closed, she approached the bed and looked down upon her king, her husband, and pulled in a shaky breath.

The king was emaciated. The loss of his magic eighteen years ago had destroyed him. The queen’s magic, powerful in her own right, was not enough to maintain an entire kingdom. And so, year by year, the kingdom and her husband fell into ruin.

The king’s dim eyes met hers. “I would do it again. For you.” He said weakly.

“It wasn’t worth it, my king. The price was too high. The kingdom is failing. Citizens have lost hope. I have never been able to conceive again and the constant pain of the loss of Aeliana has broken me.”

The king reached to touch her cheek, but even that small effort caused him to cough.

Cackling laughter startled them both. Darkness swirled, dimming the light from the magic lamps and putting the room in almost complete darkness. When they flashed back to full brightness, Eldra stood at the foot of the king’s bed.

Queen Lisandra didn’t hesitate. She lashed out with her magic. As powerful as it was, it was no match for Eldra. Eldra’s dark shadows wrapped around the Queen’s neck and squeezed.

“Is that any way to greet your savior, Lisandra?”

The shadows loosened and the queen gasped for air. “What now, Eldra? What new horrors are you bringing to our wretched lives?”

“I hear you named your daughter Aeliana.”

“Where is she?” King Cedric growled.

“Your little princess is alive and well. However, she has a mere two months left before she comes of age. It is such poetic justice that for all you took from me, killing my family and enslaving me, soon everything you own, including your magic, and hers, will be bequeathed to me. For it is highly unlikely your daughter will ever willingly have a selfless act of pure heart powerful enough to break the curse. The moment she comes of age, having not broken the curse, your kingdom, your magic, everything will be mine.”

Queen Lisandra stood with her chin raised. “Restore our daughter to us. Restore the king’s health. If you do these things, we will go away together, and the kingdom will be yours.”

Eldra laughed. “It’s all mine anyways. The next time we meet will be the last thing you will ever see, King Cedric.”

Eldra raised her arms and in a swirl of dark magic, vanished.

Lisandra clutched her chest and broke down into sobs. Cedric grabbed her hand.

“Send for the scribe, my queen.”

 

***

 

The clearing outside the city was quiet, save for the occasional chirping of birds and the rustle of leaves in the breeze from the surrounding forest. It was a small patch of land just inside the forest, where the city’s smoke and noise faded into the background. I liked it out there. It felt like a world away from the grime and stench of the streets.

I stood there, shifting on my feet, waiting. Thorne was late, as usual, but I wasn’t worried. He always showed up, eventually. And sure enough, a few moments later, I heard the crunch of heavy boots behind me.

“Still haven’t learned to watch your back, Caelan,” Thorne’s deep voice rumbled as he emerged from the woods, a grin on his weathered face. He was a hulking figure, broad-shouldered and solid as a stone wall. Middle-aged, sure, but the kind of man who looked like he could still break you in half if he had a mind to.

Without a word, he tossed me a sword, a practice blade, dull but heavy. I caught it just in time, the weight of it nearly pulling me off balance. “You’re late,” I muttered, setting my stance, adjusting the grip.

“Or you’re early,” he shot back, stepping into the clearing. He raised his own sword, a much larger one than mine, and squared off against me. His grin never faded. “Ready to get your ass handed to you?”

I grinned back. “We’ll see about that.”

We started out slowly, the clang of metal echoing through the clearing. Thorne liked to test me, to see if I had remembered anything from our last session. I moved quickly, parrying his blows, dodging when I could, but Thorne always had the upper hand. His strikes were heavy, each one knocking me back a step or two, and it wasn’t long before I felt the familiar burn in my arms.

“Keep your elbows tucked in,” he growled, swinging wide. I barely blocked it, my arms shaking under the impact. “You’re leaving yourself wide open. Someone will gut you like a fish.”

I gritted my teeth, adjusted my stance, trying to do what he said, but it wasn’t easy with a man like Thorne barreling down on you. He swung again, and this time I ducked under, slashing at his side. He deflected the blow easily, spinning around and catching me in the ribs with the flat of his blade.

I stumbled, the wind knocked out of me, and Thorne chuckled. “Not bad. But not good enough.”

We went on like that for a while, Thorne correcting me at every turn. “Keep your feet planted,” he barked. “Stop swinging like a farmer chopping wood. You’re trying to kill a man, not chop down a tree.”

By the time we stopped, I was drenched in sweat, panting, and sore in places I didn’t even know could be sore. Thorne, on the other hand, barely looked winded. He sat down on a fallen log, motioning for me to join him.

“You’re getting better,” he said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “Still sloppy, though. But better. You’re not used to swords. I heard you and Eira caused a bit of a commotion yesterday.”

I shrugged. “They were trying to impose themselves on Eira.”

“You do realize she can take care of herself, right? You’re pining for her is going to get you into trouble one day. I know those two men. They are palace guards. I heard you two took them down easily. You have good skills, Caelan, but you’ve been marked by the guards now. They will be keeping an eye out for you.”

I nudged Thorne. “I was not pining.”

“You always do around her.”

“Thanks for the warning about the palace guards. Is that the best they’ve got?”

“There will always be someone better and stronger than you. You’re getting better.”

“You always say that.”

“Because it’s true. You’ve come a long way, but you’re not there yet.” He nudged me with his elbow, his grin softening into something more genuine. “But I’m proud of you, Caelan. Getting out of the thieves' guild...that was the right move. You’re making something of yourself.”

I stared at the ground, the reality of his words sinking in. Thorne wasn’t the kind of man to throw compliments around lightly. “It was you that caught me, remember?” I said, a small smile tugging at my lips. “When I was twelve. I tried to pickpocket you.”

Thorne let out a bark of laughter. “That’s right. Scrawny little thing, too. I could have lifted you off the ground with a single finger back then.”

“You nearly did,” I chuckled. “But you didn’t.”

He shrugged, leaning back, his eyes thoughtful. “I saw something in you. I knew you were smarter than the life you were living. Most kids who get caught pickpocketing end up in a cell or worse. But not you. You had a desire for something better for yourself. You just needed to learn how to fight properly and find your way.”

That day changed everything for me. Thorne had been the first person in my life to give a damn about what I could be, instead of just seeing me as another street rat. He had hauled me out of the gutter, dusted me off, and set me on a path that didn’t end with me swinging from the gallows.

“You didn’t have to help me,” I said quietly, staring at the sword still clutched in my hands.

“I didn’t. But I did anyway.” Thorne’s voice softened, and he turned to look at me. “And look at you now. You’re not that kid anymore. You’ve made something of yourself. You’ve got potential, Caelan. More than you realize.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. Part of me wanted to believe him, to believe that I was more than just a kid from the streets, that I could be someone. But another part of me, the part that always felt wrong, the part that didn’t quite fit in my own skin, wasn’t so sure.

Thorne must have sensed it because he clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder. “You stay the course, Caelan. Don’t go running back to the guild. That life will eat you alive. You’ve got a chance to be something more. Take it.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I will. I’m not going back.”

“Good,” Thorne said, his voice firm. “Because I didn’t waste my time with you just to watch you fall back into it. You’ve got a future, kid. Don’t waste it.”

We sat there for a while, the sounds of the forest around us mingled with my heavy breathing. Thorne was right. I had a chance. A chance to be someone, to be better. I just had to figure out how to keep fighting, not just with a sword, but with whatever it was inside me that always wanted more.

Thorne stood up, stretching his back, and offered me a hand. “Come on. Let’s get you up before you start whining about your bruises.”

I took his hand and got to my feet, feeling a little steadier. "Thanks," I said, and I meant it.

Thorne just grinned. “Don’t thank me yet. We’re doing this again tomorrow. Bring your girlfriend.”

I rolled my eyes. “As if she is my girlfriend.”

 

***

 

The streets of the lower city were always worse this time of year, when the rains washed the filth from the palace and the surrounding districts straight down to the slums. It was as if the kingdom itself was trying to purge the rest of us. I stepped through the muck, careful to avoid the puddles that reeked of things better left unidentified. The air was thick with the smell of decay and desperation. I kept my head down, my hood pulled low, avoiding eye contact with the beggars that lined the streets since I had no wealth to give them.

I glanced up once, only for a moment, just as a breeze swept through the city. One of the pennant flags hanging from the palace wall tore free, spiraling down in the wind. It was like watching the last bit of pride the kingdom had being ripped away, a fitting image of our decline.

I shook my head and turned just in time to see them. The two burly guards from the eatery, now dressed in their polished palace uniforms, sported bruised faces from our fight the day before. They were scanning the streets, looking for someone. Looking for me.

I ducked down an alley, pulling my cloak tighter, and made my way deeper into the city, into the part most people preferred to forget existed.

The lower city was a pit of darkness and rot, where the poorest lived and died in squalor. The filth clung to everything, the walls, the ground, the people. The stench hit you in the back of your throat like a punch, making it hard to breathe if you weren’t used to it. I pushed through, my destination just a few blocks away, a shack barely holding itself together.

Alric’s place.

I stepped inside, the rickety door creaking behind me, and immediately the smell changed from the rancid stench of the streets to something more medicinal, herbal, though no less oppressive. The air was tainted with the sharp scent of herbs, mixed with the sour tang of sickness. The room was dimly lit by a single oil lamp, casting flickering shadows over the rows of cots, where people lay in various states of suffering.

Alric stood in the middle of it all, his back to me, bent over a patient. His gray beard was long, but his eyes were still sharp, his hands steady. Despite his age, there was a sprightliness to the old healer, a kind of energy that kept him moving even when everything around him seemed to be falling apart.

“Caelan,” he said without turning around. He always knew when I was there. “You picked a fine time to visit.”

“Alric,” I greeted him, stepping further into the room. “How can I help?”

Alric sighed, straightening up and turning to face me. His face was lined with exhaustion, and I could see the toll the years and the endless stream of dying people had taken on him. “Help? You can’t help, Caelan. No one can help. Not with what little we have.” He gestured around the room, at the sick and dying. “There’s always more to do, more people to save, but never enough time, never enough supplies, and never enough magic.”

I looked around, my heart sinking. The people lying on those cots weren’t just sick, they were dying. You could see it in their eyes, in the way they clung to the edge of life, waiting for some miracle that would never come. And yet, Alric kept working, trying to save them with the little he had.

I swallowed hard. “There has to be something I can do.”

Alric opened his mouth to respond, but then there was a sudden commotion. A young girl, no more than ten, started convulsing on one of the cots. Her thin body jerked violently, and her skin had gone pale, her lips tinged with blue. She coughed, and blood sprayed from her mouth, splattering the ragged blanket that barely covered her.

“Alric!” I rushed over, kneeling beside the girl, trying to hold her still. “What’s happening to her?”

Alric was beside me in an instant, his face grim. “She’s too far gone,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I don’t have the magic strength to heal her. There’s nothing more I can do that try to make her last moments as comfortable as possible.”

I stared down at the girl, her chest heaving as she struggled to breathe, her small hands clawing at the air. Something twisted inside me, something dark and angry. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right that she should die here, in this filth, with no one to help her. I felt helpless, useless. My hands clenched into fists, shaking with frustration.

And then, something happened.

A warmth surged inside me, starting deep in my chest and spreading outward, like a fire catching hold of dry tinder. It was sudden, overwhelming, a pulse of energy that I couldn’t explain. My hands moved on their own, reaching for the girl’s frail body, and before I knew what I was doing, I was pressing my palms against her.

The warmth flowed out of me, into her, and I could feel it, something changing, something healing. Her body stopped convulsing, her breathing steadied, the color returned to her cheeks. It was like watching a candle being relit, the light flickering back to life.

As quickly as it had come, the magic stopped. I stumbled back, my heart racing, my breath shallow, my hands shaking. What had just happened?

Alric leaned over the girl, his hands trembling slightly as he checked her pulse, her breathing. His eyes widened in disbelief. “She’s… she’s healed,” he whispered. He looked up at me, his expression a mixture of awe and confusion. “How… how did you do that?”

I shook my head, backing away, my swirling thoughts and confusing threatening to shut me down. “I don’t… I don’t know.”

Alric’s gaze stayed on me, sharp and searching, like he was seeing me for the first time. “Caelan…”

Alric’s grip tightened on my arm, pulling me up and dragging me toward the door. The air outside was damp and smelled of the nearby city gutters. He pushed me against a weathered stone wall, his face stern and searching, as if he could see right through me. His eyes, sharper than his years should have allowed, held mine in a way that made my heart race.

“That was magic, Caelan. Powerful magic,” he said, his voice low but full of an intensity that made me feel like the ground was falling out beneath me.

I staggered, running a hand through my hair, still trying to make sense of it all. “I have never had magic. Nothing. Not even a drop.”

Alric didn’t blink. He was focused, as if he knew something I didn’t. “Try again,” he urged. “On another patient.”

I stared at him, shaking my head. This wasn’t happening. I was no healer. I didn’t have magic. I had never shown any sign of it my entire life. If I had any, it would have shown up years ago, like all the others in the kingdom who had even a touch of it.

But Alric didn’t budge. His eyes locked on mine, unwavering. “You healed that girl. I have never seen anything like it. You can’t just walk away from that.”

The truth of his words squeezed my chest, shaking my breath. It was impossible. Yet… the girl. I had felt something, something I couldn’t explain. A warmth, a pulse of life that had passed through me into her. Had it really been magic?

Reluctantly, I nodded. “Alright,” I muttered, the word heavy on my tongue. “Alright, I’ll try.”

Alric led me back inside, his hand firm on my shoulder, guiding me as if I were sleepwalking through some strange dream. The room was still filled with sick and dying, but I could see her now, the little girl. She was sitting up, her face no longer pale, her eyes wide and bright. She was smiling.

A knot tightened in my chest, I was afraid of myself. I had done that. Somehow, I had pulled her back from the brink of death. But how?

Alric led me to another cot, this one occupied by an old man whose breath rattled with every labored inhale. His skin was ashen, his body frail and thin, barely more than a skeleton wrapped in loose skin. Alric’s voice was calm, guiding me like a teacher with a new apprentice. “Just like before,” he said. “Place your hands on him. Let the energy flow.”

I knelt beside the old man, my heart pounding in my chest. My hands trembled as I reached out and placed them on his arm, his skin cool and papery beneath my fingers. I closed my eyes, trying to summon that same warmth, that same pulse of life I had felt with the girl.

Nothing.

I squeezed my eyes tighter, willing it to happen. My hands shook with the effort, but still, there was nothing. No warmth, no pulse, no surge of magic. Just the cold, hollow sound of the old man’s breath, growing weaker with each passing second.

I opened my eyes, my gaze flicking to Alric. He nodded, urging me to try again. “Concentrate. Feel the energy within you.”

I tried. I tried until my head ached, until my body felt drained and empty, but there was nothing. Just me, kneeling beside a dying man, powerless to save him.

Finally, I let out a shaky breath and pulled my hands away, frustration and confusion twisting in my gut. “I can’t,” I muttered. “I don’t know what happened before, but I can’t do it again.”

Alric watched me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he nodded slowly, as if he had expected this all along. “Magic is a fickle thing, Caelan. It comes and goes as it pleases. But what you did was real. Don’t forget that.”

I stood up, feeling more lost than ever. “I will… I will find those herbs you need,” I said, eager to escape, to put distance between me and the further loss of who I was.

I left the shack in a daze, the world outside feeling distant, blurred. My thoughts were a tangled mess of confusion and disbelief. What had just happened? How had I healed that girl? And why couldn’t I do it again?

I wandered through the lower city, not really paying attention to where I was going. The streets were crowded, as they always were, but everything felt like a dream. My feet carried me without direction, until I found myself in a narrow alley, the sound of rain pattering on the cobblestones around me. An old crate sat against the wall, and I dropped onto it, my head in my hands.

I had no magic. I had lived my entire life knowing that. And yet, something inside me had changed, even if just for a moment. Something I couldn’t explain.

I glanced up at the palace in the distance, the crumbling towers dark against the stormy sky. The rain fell harder, soaking through my cloak, but I barely felt it. All I could think about was that surge of warmth, that pulse of life that had saved a little girl, and the haunting emptiness I felt when I tried to summon it again.

As I sat on that old crate, lost in thought, a shadow moved above me. Eira dropped down from the rooftop, landing with her usual grace, her cloak fluttering around her like a raven’s wing. She glanced at me with a small, aloof smile, then slid onto the crate beside me, her body radiating warmth despite the cold drizzle. Her presence made my chest tighten, like a wound reopening.

“Hello Cae,” she greeted me warmly, her voice soft but edged with her usual detachment. “I have seen those two thugs from the eatery again. Turns out they’re palace guards. They’ve been asking people if anyone’s seen someone matching your description.”

I didn’t look at her, keeping my eyes trained on the wet cobblestones. “I know,” I muttered. “I saw them earlier.”

I could feel her gaze on me, her stare making my throat tighten. When I finally forced myself to glance her way, it hit me; the longing, the deep-seated pain that seemed to live inside me, the part of me that yearned to be like her. To be her.

I winced, the ache slicing through me with familiar sharpness. I tried to hide it, but Eira noticed. She always noticed.

“Thorne been training you today?” she asked, her voice light, like she didn’t want to press too hard. But she knew. She always knew when something was off with me.

I nodded, forcing a tired grin. “Yes. I’m sore as hell. You should join us tomorrow.” I looked at her sideways, teasing, but also wishing, always wishing. She gave me that noncommittal shrug that told me she would probably slip away before dawn, like always.

“Maybe,” she said, her voice lilting but distant, like her mind was somewhere else. “We will see.”

I could feel her shifting, the conversation taking a turn, the tension between us growing. Her gaze flicked back to me, that thoughtful look she got when she was considering something important. “So, you won’t come back to the guild, huh?” she asked, her tone casual, though her question wasn’t. “It would be nice to be together again.”

My stomach twisted. Together. The word lingered in the air like a knife in my chest. Together in what way? As friends? As something more? I had to know. I had to finally ask.

I looked at her, really looked at her. Eira, with her gorgeous red hair that seemed to defy every rule of beauty but somehow made her more stunning. Eira, whose presence clawed at the part of me that felt so wrong, so incomplete, every time I stood next to her.

“Together in what way?” I asked, my voice cracking despite my best effort to sound indifferent. My heart pounded as the words left my mouth.

Her eyes met mine, searching. She was quiet for a moment, and I could see her figuring it out. The shift in her expression was subtle, but I felt it. She knew now.

“As friends,” she said gently, almost too gently. “Comrades, like always.”

The words hit me like a blow, but it wasn’t her fault. It was mine. I shouldn’t have hoped for more, shouldn’t have let myself believe that someone like her could want someone like me. Still, I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

“Have you ever wanted… something more?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. My hands tightened into fists on my lap, bracing for whatever was coming next.

Eira’s expression softened, and I knew she had figured out my feelings, that tangled mess inside me. Her brow furrowed, not in anger or disgust, but in compassion.

She reached out, placing her hand on mine, and I nearly flinched at the touch. “Caelan…” she began, her voice tender but steady, “I care about you, I really do. But after what I have been through… I could never be with a man.” Her voice wavered slightly, the pain in her eyes deep but buried. “It isn’t something I can explain fully, but it’s there. And I’m… I’m waiting for my princess.”

Her princess.

The words pulled the air from my lungs. My heart sank, but not because of her rejection. It was because I could never be that for her. A woman. Her princess. The very thing I wanted to be, the thing I could never fully become. The thing that felt like it was buried inside me, suffocating under the weight of who I was supposed to be.

I nodded slowly, trying to mask the hurt. I couldn’t blame her. How could I? She had been through hell. And here I was, thinking I could somehow fix it by being something I wasn’t.

“I understand,” I managed to say, though my throat was tight. “I didn’t mean to…”

“Cae,” she interrupted, her voice firm but kind. “You mean a lot to me. You have always been there for me, and I will always be here for you. But this…” she gestured between us, her hand moving in a small circle, “this will never be that. I hope you know that doesn’t change how much I care.”

I nodded again, feeling the rain soak through my clothes, mixing with the chill in my bones. “Yes. I know.” I tried to smile, but it felt brittle, like it might break any second.

She squeezed my hand once more before letting go, her eyes lingering on mine, full of empathy. “Come on,” she said, standing up and pulling her hood over her head. “We’ve got things to do.”

I followed her willingly even though it was painful to do so. Eira’s words echoed in my mind, but it wasn’t her rejection that stung the most. It was the reminder of who I was, and who I would never be.

Her princess.

And yet, as painful as it was, I couldn’t help but be glad that she had found her path, even if it meant I wasn’t a part of it.

Eira moved ahead of me like a shadow, slipping between people, her body weaving through the narrow streets with that effortless grace of hers. I followed a few paces behind, still reeling from everything. Her words, her rejection, the strange burst of magic that had come from me when I healed that girl. It all churned in my head like a storm I couldn’t quite get a hold of.

And then there was Eira. I hated the way I couldn’t stop watching her, the way her leather breeches clung to her body as she darted around the corners, the way she seemed so at ease in her skin. Her beauty didn’t just stir something inside me; it carved a deep, painful hole. It wasn’t just that I wanted her. It was that I wanted to be her. Or maybe someone like her. Beautiful, confident, and completely at home in herself. I had never had that, not even close. Every time I looked at her, that feeling gnawed at me, like something scratching under my skin, desperate to get out.

I stumbled, nearly running into her as she stopped suddenly. She turned, her eyes softening when she saw my dazed expression. Without saying a word, she reached up, pushing some of the wet, dripping hair out of my face. Her fingers brushed against my forehead, warm despite the rain that drenched us both.

“What’s gotten into you, Cae?” she asked, her voice gentle, but there was a trace of worry there. “You’re not your usual self. Was it because of what I said?”

I tried to shrug it off, though I knew she could see through me. “No. A bit. There is just... a lot going on,” I muttered, looking away. I couldn’t face her right then. Not after everything.

She didn’t push, not like she could have. Instead, she slipped her hand into mine, pulling me through the crowd that had started gathering in the square. Her touch was light, but it was enough to ground me, at least for a little while.

The rain hadn’t let up, and the crowd around us grew tighter, voices rising as people shoved their way closer to the center. I barely noticed, still lost in my thoughts, until we came to a stop. Eira glanced over her shoulder at me, a sly grin pulling at the corner of her mouth.

“Why are we here?” I asked, trying to shake off the daze, but I couldn’t quite manage it.

“Shhhh,” she whispered, pressing a finger to her lips. Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Announcement from the king. Plus, crowds like this give me plenty of opportunities to pay for our dinner tonight.”

She flashed a silver chain she’d just lifted from someone, her grin widening. I shook my head, unable to suppress a smirk. Typical Eira. Always one step ahead, always with an angle. I wasn’t sure if I admired that or felt a little sick from it.

A palace crier climbed up onto a raised platform in the center of the square, his voice booming over the noise of the crowd.

“By decree of King Cedric,” he began, “the search for the lost princess has been renewed. A lifetime of wealth and lands will be given to the one who finds her and brings her to His Majesty! You have two months. Any who have information or wish to volunteer, come forward.”

The grumbling started almost immediately, the crowd shifting from bored disinterest to something darker. I could feel the frustration, the anger.

“Another quest for the lost princess?” someone near me shouted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “We don’t need a princess! We need food!”

“All this talk of rewards while we starve in the streets!” a woman yelled. Others joined in, the square filling with the sound of voices rising in protest.

Eira leaned close, her breath warm against my ear. “Sounds like the king’s running out of options,” she said, though there was something in her voice, a seriousness that didn’t match her usual playful tone.

I didn’t say anything, my mind still caught on the announcement. The lost princess. I had heard the stories since I was a kid, same as everyone else. The curse that had brought the kingdom to its knees, the witch who had stolen her away, and the king’s never-ending search to bring her back. Every year, every quest, always the same outcome. Nothing. Just more lost hope and wasted effort.

“Do you think anyone will actually find her?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure if I was asking Eira or just the empty air between us.

She looked at me, her eyes sharp but thoughtful. “Who knows,” she said after a moment, her voice quieter now. “But people will do anything for a reward like that. Even if it means chasing shadows.”

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure I agreed. The people in that square weren’t chasing shadows. They were chasing survival, food for their families, a way out of the misery that had settled over the kingdom like a dense fog. The announcement didn’t inspire hope. It just reminded everyone of how far we had fallen.

The crowd swelled, voices growing angrier, more desperate. The crier was still shouting over them, urging the people to take part in the search, but no one was listening anymore. They had heard it all before.

And yet, despite everything, a strange feeling twisted in my gut. Something was different this time. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but the announcement... it felt more real. Like the clock was ticking down, and soon, something would break.

Eira nudged me, pulling me back to the present. “Come on,” she said, slipping the silver chain into her pocket. “Let’s get out of here before someone notices that’s missing.”

I followed her, still half-lost in thought.

We slipped through the crowd like ghosts, Eira’s red hair flashing briefly in the dying light as she ducked and weaved between people, her hand still gripping mine. She was fast, always faster than me, but I kept up. I could hear the crier’s voice getting drowned out by the rising shouts of angry townsfolk, but we were nearly clear of it when I heard something that froze my blood.

“There! The redhead!”

I glanced back just in time to see the palace guards, bruised and furious, pointing in our direction. A shout rang out, followed by the clank of armor as more guards moved in. They were pushing their way through the crowd, shoving people aside like cattle, trampling whoever didn’t get out of their way fast enough.

“Shit,” Eira muttered under her breath. She tightened her grip on my hand and pulled me harder. “Come on, Cae. We need to move.”

We darted through gaps in the crowd, our bodies moving instinctively. Years of sneaking, running, hiding were second nature to us. Eira was a shadow, slipping between the people with ease, and I followed, adrenaline pounding in my ears. The shouts of the guards were getting closer, but we were almost clear. Almost free.

Then, the scream.

It was raw, guttural. It was the sound of someone in pain. I stopped dead, the noise cutting through the panic, and I saw him. An old man, crumpled on the ground, his face twisted in agony. The guards had barreled through him like he was nothing, leaving him broken at my feet.

“Cae, come on!” Eira hissed, tugging at my arm, her eyes wild. She was pulling me toward the alley, toward safety, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t just leave him there.

“I have to help him,” I said, dropping to my knees beside the man. His leg was twisted in a way that made my stomach churn, and he groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. The guards were nearly on us, but all I could see was this old man, this innocent man, broken because of me.

“Cae, no!” Eira was pulling harder now, trying to drag me away, but it was too late. The guards reached me first, their hands gripping my shoulder with brutal force.

“You’re under arrest,” one of them snarled, his breath hot and foul against my neck. He yanked at me, pulling me away from the man. The anger, the injustice of it all bubbled up inside me, faster than I could stop it.

“Under arrest?” I shouted, twisting in his grip, my voice rising with each word. “For what? For stopping two of your drunken buddies from assaulting a woman? That’s my crime? And this is my reward?”

They didn’t care. They didn’t even listen. The guards’ grips tightened, their fingers digging into my shoulders and arms as they pulled harder, and the old man at my feet groaned again, his face pale with pain. That sound was like a knife in my gut.

And then it happened again. Something inside me snapped.

I don’t know how to explain it. Hell, I don’t think I even understood it myself. But it was like before, like when I healed the girl. The anger, the helplessness surged through me, burning hotter and brighter until it exploded out of me.

Magic.

Raw, uncontrollable magic, pouring out of me like a flood. I felt it, felt the power surge through my veins, and the next thing I knew, the old man’s twisted leg was straightening, the color returning to his face. His eyes fluttered open, wide with shock, and he sat up, no longer in pain.

At the same time, the guards that held me were wrenched free and they and others were lifted off their feet. One second, they were dragging me down, and the next, they were floating, their feet kicking at the air as they hung helplessly in front of me. Their eyes were wide, terrified, and I could feel my power gripping them, holding them there.

“Cae…” Eira’s voice was soft, almost a whisper. I turned to her, and her eyes were wide, her face pale. She looked at me like I was someone else, someone dangerous. “What… what did you just do?”

I didn’t have an answer. I didn’t know what I had done, only that it felt like a dam had broken inside me, and now everything was spilling out. My heart was racing, my hands shaking. I could barely breathe. And then it stopped. The guards fell to the ground in a noisy clatter.

“Come on,” she said, shaking off the shock, grabbing my arm. “We must go. Now!”

I nodded, still dazed, and let her pull me through the crowd. We ducked into an alley, slipping into the shadows, leaving the guards and the square behind. My heart was still pounding, the magic still buzzing in my veins, but Eira didn’t let go. She dragged me through the winding streets into the lower city, taking turns I didn’t even register, until we were deep in the maze of alleyways.

Finally, we stopped. Eira pressed me against the wall, her breath ragged, her eyes searching mine. “What the hell was that, Cae?”

I shook my head, trying to catch my breath. “I… I don’t know. I have never had magic, Eira. Not ever. Not until… the girl. This morning.”

“What girl, Cae?”

“I was helping Alric and there was this girl. She was dying. Something happened and I felt magic burst forth in me and I healed her. Alric encouraged me to try on others, and there was nothing. It just turned on and off all on its own. I can’t feel it, Eira, and I can’t control it.”

She looked at me, her expression was a mix of fear and awe. “Magic is a big deal, Cae. It is what separates the rich from the poor in this world, the powerful from the weak. Even if you only had a touch of magic, it changes everything. Back in the square, that magical outburst you had was very visible, powerful, and public. If there was a target on you before, there is a much larger one on you now. The guild can protect you. At least for a while.”

I shook my head. “Everything with the guild comes at a price. Even just a safe place to stay for a few days until I figure out what is happening to me and what I will do next will put me in debt to them. I can’t go back to the guild.”

“Don’t rule it out completely, Cae. You can speak with Guild Master Sebastian. He wants you back, but maybe he would be willing to give you some time to…”

I cut her off by grabbing her shoulders and staring into her fathomless eyes. “Eira… I need time to think. I will see Alric. Maybe he can guide me with whatever magic is going on within me. I could travel with Thorne and get away from here.”

Her eyes narrowed. “So, that’s it then? You’re running away? You’re leaving me?”

“I’m not abandoning you, Eira. I could never do that. I just need some time.”

“Fine. I’m coming with you then.”

“What about the guild? You can’t just walk away.”

“My hair has become a liability. Sebastian told me I need to bring you in, so I have an excuse. I could use a little fresh air and a fresh perspective.”

“Them let’s go see Alric.”

 

***

 

Queen Lisandra stood by the window, her hands gripping the sill as she stared out into the night. The wind rattled the glass, and beyond the castle walls the city surrounding the palace lay under a blanket of darkness. Out there, the people grumbled, whispered curses, and their resentment grew stronger with each passing day.

On the bed, King Cedric lay propped up by pillows, his face pale and gaunt, a man once filled with vitality now reduced to a fragile shell. The sickness had drained him, eaten away at his strength until even speaking felt like a laborious task. His hands trembled slightly on the coverlet, and his breath came in shallow, wheezing gasps.

Lisandra finally turned, her voice cutting through the stillness of the room. “No one came, Cedric. Not a single soul.” She crossed the room slowly, her eyes hard, her face set in a mask of determination. “The people… they’re not interested in your decree. No one cares about the lost princess. They’re more concerned with the food shortages. They blame you for everything.”

Cedric closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. He had known the words were coming, had felt the pain of them even before she spoke. The decline of the kingdom. It was his doing. His fault. All because of the blood oath.

“Eldra…” he rasped, his voice a thin whisper. “It all comes back to her.”

Lisandra sat down beside him, her slender fingers brushing against his hand. There was no comfort in her touch, only cold determination. “You made that deal, Cedric. You gave her your magic to save me, but the price…” She paused, her voice tightening with emotion. “The price was too high. Our daughter... she took her. And now our kingdom is paying for it.”

He opened his eyes again, staring up at the ceiling, his guilt pressing down on him like a physical burden. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought… saving you was all that mattered. But I was a fool.”

Lisandra’s eyes flashed with a fierce intensity. “Maybe you were. But wallowing in guilt won’t save our kingdom now.” She stood, pacing the room like a lioness trapped in a cage, her long gown swishing around her ankles. “We have an obligation to these people, Cedric. They’re suffering. And whether they blame you or not, we can’t just stand by and let everything collapse.”

“What would you have me do?” Cedric’s voice was bitter, the rasp of a man who had nothing left to give. “I’m dying, Lisandra. And I have already damned us all.”

She stopped in front of him, her gaze piercing, unwavering. “I’m going to find her.”

He blinked, confusion flickering in his tired eyes. “What… what are you saying?”

“I’m going to find our daughter,” Lisandra repeated, her voice like steel. “I don’t care what it takes. I don’t care if I must search every corner of this cursed land myself. I will gather whoever I can… mercenaries, bounty hunters, anyone who’s willing, and I will go look for her.”

Cedric’s brow furrowed, his hand twitching weakly on the bed. “No. You can’t…”

“I will,” she interrupted, her tone sharp, final. “It’s my daughter, Cedric. Our daughter. I will not let this kingdom fall apart while there’s still a chance to save it.”

Cedric’s mouth opened, then closed, his throat too tight to argue. He wanted to forbid it, to tell her that it was too dangerous, that she had no idea what horrors lurked beyond the kingdom’s borders. But he knew, deep down, that she wouldn’t listen. That fire in her eyes… it was unyielding, unbreakable. She had made up her mind, and nothing he said would change that.

“You’re not strong enough,” he croaked, his voice filled with desperation. “Lisandra, this… this isn’t your burden to bear.”

She knelt by his side, taking his trembling hand in hers, her grip firm and resolute. “It is my burden,” she said softly, her eyes locking onto his. “It’s my duty as queen. It’s my duty as a mother. And I won’t sit idly by while everything we have built crumbles around us.”

He swallowed hard, his throat dry, his heart aching with the knowledge that he couldn’t stop her. “You… you don’t even know where to start.”

“I will find a way,” Lisandra whispered, her voice fierce, unrelenting. “There are those who remember the forbidden magic beyond our borders. There are still secrets in this world that even Eldra can’t hide from.”

Cedric closed his eyes again, a tear slipping down his cheek. He had never wanted this for her, for them. But there was no stopping it now. The kingdom was falling apart, and she was right, they had to do something.

“Be careful,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “Don’t… don’t let her take you too.”

Lisandra pressed a kiss to his forehead, her lips soft against his clammy skin. “I won’t let our kingdom fall, Cedric. I promise you that.”

He nodded weakly, too tired to respond, too broken to fight. And as Lisandra rose to leave the room, her steps filled with the resolve of a queen who had nothing left to lose, Cedric lay in silence.

The curse of a king who had bargained with a witch and lost.

 

***

 

As Eira led us through the winding streets toward Alric’s, my mind wasn’t on the path. It wasn’t on the darkened alleyways or the narrow corners we slipped around so easily. It was on everything that had happened today. How? How could I have magic? The day had been a whirlwind, an emotional storm that tossed me from revelation to revelation, and yet here I was, standing in the eye of it, feeling more lost than ever before. More wrong than ever before.

It wasn’t just magic itself. It was what it meant. All my life, I had been nothing. An orphan, a nobody. No family, no legacy, no power. I had watched from the outside as people like Eira, people who fit, people who belonged, moved through the world like it made sense to them. And now… now I was supposed to believe I had magic? Something only the blessed, the chosen, wielded? It made my skin crawl.

“We’re here, Caelan.” Eira’s voice pulled me from my spiraling thoughts, and I blinked, realizing we’d arrived at Alric’s door.

The air inside was the same nauseating stench of sickness and herbs. People lay on cots, some moaning softly, others deathly still. Alric was moving between them, his hands quick and practiced as he worked. When he saw us, he straightened, wiping his brow.

“It happened again,” I said.

Before I could speak, his eyes widened. He darted forward, finger to his lips, shushing us into silence. With hurried movements, he led us into the small shack that he called home, away from the ears of the sick and desperate. The space was cramped and cluttered with jars of strange plants, powders, and tools. It smelled of something sharp, like earth and smoke mixed.

Safely inside, Alric turned to me, eyes boring into mine. “What happened?” he asked, his voice low and serious.

I opened my mouth to speak, but my thoughts were still tangled, words caught in the knot of confusion inside me. What had happened? I wasn’t sure I even knew. Everything had been so fast, so chaotic. My hands were shaking, and I didn’t even realize it until Eira glanced at them, concern flickering in her eyes.

The sight of her grounded me, if only for a moment. I shared about the old man, his broken leg, and the guards. When I finished, I was lost in my thoughts again.

“How many guards, Caelan?” Alric asked, but I just stared, lost in the haze.

It was Eira who answered for me. “The guards… Ten of them. Maybe more.”

Alric’s face hardened. He rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head as if trying to make sense of it all. “Ten guards?” he repeated, his disbelief almost palpable. “Not even nobles have that kind of power, Caelan.”

I barely registered his words. My mind kept circling back, trapped in a loop I couldn’t break out of. Magic. My magic. The way it had erupted, uncontrolled, healing the old man, throwing the guards like they were ragdolls. What did it mean?

“You only have two options, Caelan,” Alric said finally, cutting through the fog in my mind. His voice was grim, but his tone left no room for argument. “Turn yourself in or flee.”

I looked up, dazed, trying to understand the severity in his tone.

“And I can tell you now,” he continued, leaning forward, “an orphan attacking the guards with magic… you can’t turn yourself in. They will put you to death.”

His words sank into me slowly, each one settling in my chest. Death. It seemed so final, so inevitable.  He was right. I had no money or status to buy my freedom and with no control over magic that eluded me, I could not fight against them.

Eira's eyes were locked on mine now, worry shadowing her face. She didn’t say anything, but I could feel her tension, her fear for me. She knew as well as I did that this wasn’t something we could talk our way out of. No amount of excuses or explanations would change the fact that I had crossed a line. And not just any line, the line. The one you don’t come back from.

Alric stood, pacing the small room. "You were already on thin ice with the palace guards after what happened at the eatery. This? This puts you directly in their crosshairs."

My throat felt tight, and for a second, I couldn’t breathe. The room was too small, the air too thick. All I wanted to do was run.

But where could I run? Where could anyone go when they didn’t even understand what was happening to them? When they didn’t even understand themselves?

Eira reached out, placing a hand on my arm. Her touch was gentle but firm. “We will figure this out,” she said softly. But even she sounded like she wasn’t sure.

The truth was, I wasn’t sure either.

 

***

 

As Eira and I made our way toward the forest clearing the next morning, I couldn’t shake the gnawing dread in my gut. The burden of everything made the day feel more oppressive. Beside me, Eira moved with that quiet, confident grace of hers, but even now, in this strange moment of shared tension, I couldn’t stop my thoughts from drifting to her, her striking red hair catching the light, the subtle way her muscles shifted beneath the leather.

“You don’t have to come with me,” I said, trying to focus on the task at hand, on anything other than the feelings she stirred up inside me.

She shook her head, her hair stirring the air between us. It was like a knife to my chest, but not the kind of wound you die from, the kind that makes you ache. “I can’t hide forever inside the thieves’ guild, Caelan,” she said, her voice low and sure. “I was with you both times. I’m just as marked as you are.”

I didn’t argue. How could I? She was right, and there wasn’t any sense pretending otherwise. The moment the guards had seen us, we were bound together in this mess, like it or not.

We stepped into the clearing, and there they were, Thorne and Alric. Thorne stood tall, his thickly muscled arms crossed, his gray eyes like chips of stone, unreadable as ever. But Alric… Alric looked different. His shoulders slumped, his face hollowed out. His usual calm, steady demeanor was gone, replaced by something brittle, something broken.

“Alric?” I said, the knot in my stomach tightening. “Why are you here?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just shook his head and gestured toward the small pile of belongings at his feet, a hastily packed bag covered in black soot, its contents spilling over like the remnants of a life upended. His eyes met mine, and what I saw there made my heart skip a beat. He looked lost. Devastated.

“The guards came, Caelan,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Someone talked.”

Someone talked. I could feel Eira stiffen beside me, her eyes narrowing.

“The girl’s healing,” Alric continued, voice trembling. “It was too profound. Too public. They came for me, demanded I lure you into a trap.”

I took a step forward, fists clenching at my sides. “And you refused.”

He nodded, slowly, painfully. “I refused.” His voice cracked, and for the first time, I realized just how deep his wounds went. “So, they razed it, Caelan. Burned my clinic and my shack to the ground… with the sick inside.”

A cold shock rippled through me. The sick. The people he had been trying so hard to help. Gone, just like that. I could see the horror in Alric’s face, the unbearable weight of guilt and loss crushing him.

“They left me there,” he said, his voice hollow. “To ponder my allegiance.”

The world around us felt like it had narrowed to just this moment, just these words. Everything else, the trees, the sky, the soft whisper of the wind, felt distant, insignificant. All I could hear was the crackle of fire in my mind, the screams of the innocent who had trusted him to protect them, to heal them. And it was all because of me.

“They will come for you next,” Alric said, his gaze locking onto mine. “You’re too dangerous now. They won’t stop until they have you.”

I swallowed hard. There was no going back now. Not for any of us. The noose was tightening, and we had no choice but to run.

Eira’s hand brushed against mine, supporting me in the moment, pulling me back from the edge of despair. “We’re in this together, Caelan,” she whispered, her voice fierce and unyielding. “We will figure it out. We will find a way.”

I wanted to believe her. More than anything, I wanted to believe we could outrun this, outthink it, outfight it. But deep down, a part of me knew that whatever was coming… it wouldn’t be something we could escape so easily.

Thorne shook his head again, this time with a dark chuckle. “This is a right mess, Caelan,” he said, though there was no humor in his voice. “Not to make light of anything, especially what happened to Alric and those poor sick people, but we are all tied to you now. The guards are going to track us down one by one. It wasn’t so bad that you two thrashed those palace guards the other day, but now you have magic. Magic, Caelan! You’re marked. And magic… it runs everything.” He sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. “Looks like we all need to disappear for a while, let things cool off."

I stood there, my mind spinning. Magic. The past twenty-four hours had been nothing short of a nightmare, and now I was something I didn’t understand, couldn’t control. I barely registered what Thorne was saying. I didn’t know where to go from here, didn’t even know who I was anymore.

Thorne's voice snapped me back to reality. “The question is, where do we go?”

“North,” came a voice from the shadows of the trees.

I tensed immediately, every muscle in my body going rigid. Thorne spun, faster than I could react, his sword flashing out in the low light. “Who are you?” he demanded, his voice low and sharp. “Speak now or you will regret it.”

A woman stepped out of the tree line, her hands up in a gesture of peace. Her hair was tucked under a dark hood, and her eyes darted quickly between us. “I don’t mean any harm,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “I overheard some of your conversation. It sounds like you are in a bit of a predicament, and I just happen to need some people to accompany me.”

Thorne didn’t lower his sword. “That’s not much of an explanation. Who are you?”

The woman glanced between us again, carefully choosing her next words. “I’m… someone who has been given a task by the queen herself. A task no one seems willing to take up, until now, I hope.” She paused, glancing at each of us again. “I was sent to recruit a team to search for the lost princess.”

That got my attention. The king’s decree. The crowd. The promise of riches and land. No one had cared enough to even consider it. And yet here she was, standing before us, talking about the same impossible quest.

“And you think we’re interested in that?” Eira spoke up, her tone skeptical. “We have enough problems without chasing some lost fairy tale.”

The woman nodded, as if she had expected that response. “I know. I overheard you. You’re all in a difficult situation, on the run, with palace guards looking for you. I don’t know what crimes they’re after you for, but…” She hesitated for a moment, before stepping closer. “If you help me, I can make all of that go away.”

Thorne finally lowered his sword, though he didn’t put it away. “Go on,” he said, his tone still guarded.

The woman’s eyes flicked to him, then to me. “I don’t know your names. I don’t know what you did. But I do know that the queen is willing to pay for your help. If you come with me, I will personally make sure that whatever charges or crimes the guards are chasing you for are wiped clean. You will be absolved. Free to go back to your lives, without a bounty hanging over your heads.”

The silence that followed was deafening. I could feel Eira’s gaze burning into the side of my face, waiting for my reaction. Thorne glanced at me, clearly mulling it over. I was still trying to process it all.

“You’re telling us,” Thorne said slowly, “that if we help you look for this lost princess, everything we’ve done, everything they’re after us for… it just disappears? You are being very gracious when you don’t know us or what we have done to raise the Ire of the palace guards.”

The woman nodded. “Yes, I can make it all go away. I guarantee it. You don’t seem to be the murderous sorts. If you choose to accompany me, I will pay for everything. Supplies, travel, whatever you need. And when we find her, I will make sure the queen knows you helped and deserve a reward which would include pardons and perhaps much more.”

Eira crossed her arms. “And what if we don’t find her? What if this is just some fool’s errand?”

The woman’s face hardened slightly, her resolve showing through. “You help me search. You put in the effort, and I will make sure you’re protected either way. If we find her, great. If not, you will still have your freedom.”

Another long silence. I could see Thorne weighing the pros and cons, his fingers still tight around his sword’s hilt. Eira glanced at me, her brow furrowed.

Finally, Thorne spoke. “What’s your name?”

The woman straightened her back, pulling her hood down to reveal a cascade of raven-dark hair. “Isolde,” she said. “I’m in the queen’s favor. And I’m offering you a chance to walk away from all this.”

Thorne glanced at me, then at Eira, before looking back at Isolde. “Well, Caelan? What do you think?”

I blinked, taken aback. "Me?"

Thorne gave me a hard look, his tone flat. “Yes, you. The guards are after you, not me. But we both saw what they did to Alric just for knowing you. Like it or not, you're the one who must decide here. It's your mess, Caelan, and we’re all tangled in it now. Time to step up. Take ownership of your life. Make a call.”

I frowned, looking around the group. My gaze lingered on each of them: Thorne’s serious, sharp eyes; Eira’s fiery red hair catching the dappled light; Alric’s hollow expression, haunted by the loss of his clinic and the people he couldn’t save. My chest tightened with guilt. I ran a hand through my hair.

“You're right,” I said softly, the words tasting bitter. “I don’t feel like I have done anything wrong. I tried to help, and this…” I gestured vaguely to the empty clearing, to the forest beyond, to the chaos my life had become, “…this is the thanks I get. The guards don’t care about a street orphan like me. They will never listen to reason. And now all of you… you’re guilty just by being near me.”

I paused, swallowing hard, my mind swirling with half-formed thoughts. “Maybe… maybe I should just turn myself in. Make sure you’re all free of this mess.”

“No!”

Eira’s voice cut through the air like a whip, and before I could react, she was in front of me, her face inches from mine. Her eyes blazed with an intensity I had only seen once before, when she had stood with me after I we fought those two guards. “Don’t you dare throw your life away for me. Or for any of us. None of us want that. You did nothing wrong, and I, for one, need a break from Avaloria.”

Her words hit me harder than any guard’s fist. I opened my mouth to speak, but she didn’t give me a chance.

“You’re a good person, Caelan. The best I know.” Her voice softened, though the fire in her eyes never dimmed. “You’ve done nothing wrong. You're kind, decent... better than I will ever be. And I won’t stand by and watch you throw yourself to the wolves.”

I felt a deep sigh leave me, my shoulders sagging. My eyes darted to Thorne, then Alric, both waiting for my next move.

“Then we go north,” I said, the words coming out firmer than I expected. “We take Isolde's offer. I don’t see another way out of this. Besides,” I added, glancing at Thorne, “we're practically broke. And I don’t know about you, but I would rather not starve while running from guards.”

Alric nodded solemnly, his eyes dark but resigned. “I don’t see a better choice.”

Eira, arms still crossed, gave a stiff nod, though I could tell she wasn’t entirely convinced.

Thorne’s smirk returned, though it was a shade darker than before. “About time, kid. You’re learning.”

I turned back to Isolde, who was watching the exchange with a small, satisfied smile. She looked like a cat who had just caught a mouse. “Then it looks like I have a team,” she said smoothly, stepping forward.

I glanced one last time at the faces around me, people who had no reason to stay by my side but had chosen to anyway. For better or worse, we were in this together.

I just hoped it wouldn’t cost us everything.

 

***

 

As we walked north, Isolde kept pace beside me, her presence steady and composed. She had the kind of air that hinted at power, someone used to authority, even if her claim to know the queen was all I had to go on. I wasn’t familiar with the ins and outs of the palace, and I wasn’t sure if I could trust her. But I didn’t feel like I had a choice.

“These are all friends of yours, Caelan, was it?” she asked, her tone casual, but there was an undercurrent of curiosity there.

“Yes,” I replied, keeping it simple. “I’m Caelan. Alric’s a healer. Thorne’s... good with a blade. And Eira... she’s involved in finances.”

Isolde’s eyes flicked to each of them, one by one, like she was sizing up a group of people at a market. Her gaze lingered a little longer on Eira, and I felt a tightening in my chest, wondering what she was thinking. Eira kept walking, eyes always scanning.

“What about you?” Isolde asked, her tone sharp but not unkind. “What are you?”

I hesitated, not sure how to answer. What was I, really? I wasn’t like Alric, with his healing, or Thorne, who could handle himself in any fight. And I had removed myself from being a thief like Eira.

“Nothing,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just a street rat. An orphan trying to survive.”

Isolde raised an eyebrow at that, her face giving away nothing, but her voice carried an edge. “From what I overheard and can piece together, I seem to be traveling with a wanted criminal, a magical healer, a mercenary, and... a thief.” She looked Eira up and down with a slight smirk. “Did I get that right?”

Her words were like a slap in the face I wasn’t ready for, and I felt my face heat up. “I’m no criminal,” I said, though my voice came out more defensive than I intended.

She didn’t argue, just tilted her head and kept walking. “Maybe not. But from the sound of things, you’re running. And people don’t run unless they have something to hide, something they have done wrong, or something they need to figure out.”

I clenched my jaw, unsure how to respond. She didn’t know who I was, or what had happened. She had a way of getting under your skin without even trying.

“You’re not wrong,” I muttered finally, keeping my eyes on the path ahead.

Isolde’s steps faltered, and she turned her gaze on me again, her curiosity now sharpened like a blade just out of reach.

“So, Caelan,” she asked, her voice low, almost conversational, “you say you are innocent, why are you a wanted criminal?”

I shrugged, trying to brush it off. “It was just a misunderstanding,” I said, like that would be enough to make her drop it.

But Isolde wasn’t the type to let things go. Her eyes scanned the group, lingering on Alric, who still carried the blow of the clinic’s destruction on his shoulders. His clothes were smeared with soot, the faint scent of smoke clinging to him, a reminder of what had been taken from him.

Isolde’s gaze returned to me, her eyebrow raised. “The palace guards burned down Alric's clinic because he wouldn't tell them where you were... and that was just a misunderstanding? There must be more to the story than that.”

I didn’t answer right away, just stared at Alric, who was avoiding my eyes. His whole life had been reduced to ashes because of something I had gotten us all tangled in.

I stopped walking. Isolde stopped too, her eyes locked on mine, waiting for a response. My jaw clenched, and when I spoke, my voice was tight with barely contained anger. “It was nothing. Two imbeciles, out of uniform and drunk, tried to take advantage of Eira. We fought. They lost.”

My words hung in the air for a moment, the frustration and anger seeping into every syllable. “That's what this was all about. If you ask me, those palace guards should be the ones rotting in some fetid dungeon. But the royal family? They don’t care. Not about true justice. Not about what happens to people like me. Like us. Not about the lives snuffed out by the guards. Not about what happens to the people in this city. They care about themselves. Always have.”

Isolde stayed silent, watching me, and I could feel her trying to measure me, to decide if I was just some street kid who got in over his head or something more. I didn’t know what answer she was looking for, but I wasn’t about to apologize for any of it.

“Now, because of them, I’m wanted,” I continued, the heat still simmering in my chest. “And the rest of my friends and those people that lost their lives because of overzealous lunatics... they’re just collateral damage.”

Isolde looked at Alric, Eira, and Thorne, her eyes resting on each of them before she gave a slight nod, like she had made some kind of decision.

She didn’t say anything more. Just started walking again, and the rest of us followed.

I caught up to Isolde, her stride unwavering as she pressed forward. “Why north?” I asked, trying to sound casual, though my curiosity was eating at me.

She did not slow down, just gave me a brief glance. “You have heard the story of the lost princess,” she said.

I rolled my eyes, the frustration slipping into my voice. “Yes, I have heard it. While the royal family wastes the kingdom’s fortune searching for this lost princess, people are starving. Every year, the useless king announces a new search, and what do we get? Nothing but broken promises and a kingdom falling apart.”

Isolde shrugged, calm as ever. “Clearly, there is nothing I can say that will make you believe the expense is justified. But the princess is the key to saving the people. A dark witch, Eldra, healed the queen and their unborn baby girl years ago, but she cursed the king and stole the princess when she was born. Eldra disappeared, but we know she lived in the north. That is where we are headed.”

I shook my head, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “At this point, it does not matter where we are headed as long as it is away from the kingdom. But surely, if Eldra was hiding in the north, she would have been found by now. Still, it is your coin we are spending, so we are just along for the ride.”

I drifted back to walk next to Eira. Her eyes were locked on the back of Isolde, narrowed with suspicion. “I do not like her, Caelan,” she muttered under her breath. “I feel like I am being judged every time she looks at me. And look at her cloak. It is too fine, too expensive for someone claiming to be just a friend of the queen. If she gives me any reason not to trust her...” She trailed off, fingers twitching at her side, where I knew she kept a knife hidden.

Before I could respond, Thorne’s low voice cut through the quiet. “I hear sounds ahead. Could be guards.”

Everyone fell silent, the tension rising like mist on a cool morning. A few moments later, the voices of a group of guards drifted toward us, just out of sight.

“Why are we wasting time looking for these street rats? We have better things to do,” one of them grumbled.

A second voice, low and filled with authority, responded. “One of them is a powerful magic user. Tossed a dozen guards around like they were rags.”

“Spies from the north, most likely,” the first one said again. “Here to assassinate the king.”

I glanced at Isolde. Her face tightened in concentration, and suddenly, a noise echoed deeper in the forest, loud enough to draw the guards’ attention. They muttered something we could not make out and then, without hesitation, they headed away from us and in the direction of the sound.

Before I could react, Isolde spun around to face us. “Stay here,” she commanded, her voice sharp.

And before any of us could ask questions or protest, she vanished into the woods, chasing after the guards like a shadow swallowed by the night.

 

***

 

Isolde slipped into the forest, keeping to the shadows the best she could. It would do her no good if the guards found the only people willing to go north with her. She could have ordered some guards to accompany her on her quest, but the guards were too few to guard both the palace and the city as it was. Each day felt like a powder keg, ready to explode into riot and chaos.

Pausing, Isolde glanced back toward where the group had gathered. A motley crew of survivors, for sure, but they were surprisingly diverse in their skillsets, and that would prove invaluable. She allowed herself a moment of hope.

Stepping deeper into the woods, Isolde dropped her glamor, letting her true self emerge from beneath the magic facade. She stepped into a small clearing, the dappled light filtering through the leaves, and froze as she spotted four guards, their faces contorted with impatience as they scanned the area for the source of the magic sound she had made.

When they finally caught sight of her, their demeanor changed instantly. They quickly stood to attention, their eyes widening.

“My queen,” they said in unison, their respect palpable in the air.

For a fleeting moment, Queen Lisandra felt the thrill of authority surge through her, but it was quickly dampened by the gravity of the situation. These guards, loyal though they may be, were bound by duty and fear, just as she was bound by the desperate need to save her kingdom. She inhaled deeply, steeling herself.

Isolde faced the guard captain, keeping her expression calm despite the tension building inside her. “I came to see why you are all here.”

The captain straightened, glancing at his men before replying. “We are looking for a red-haired woman and a man who attacked two guards in the square. They must be spies from the north, and one of them is a powerful magic user.”

The statement unsettled her, but Isolde didn’t let it show. She needed to stay in control. “You are to return to the palace at once,” she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.

“But the criminals…” the captain began, his hesitation clear.

Isolde cut him off sharply. “Those criminals are my concern.”

The captain’s posture stiffened, and with a bow of his head, he conceded. “Yes, my Queen.” He turned to his men and gave the order to retreat but before they left he heard the queen speak again.

“And Captain…”

“Yes, my Queen?”

“You will not speak of finding me here and when you return to the city, I want you to personally investigate the burning of a clinic in the lower city. I understand citizens were killed in the blaze. I will have the heads of those that committed such a crime.”

The captain swallowed, “Yes, my Queen.”

Lisandra waited until they disappeared into the trees before dropping her guard, glamouring herself once again. She moved back toward the others, her thoughts racing. The guards' words echoed in her mind.

A magic user? That couldn’t be right. Caelan was just a street orphan, nothing special in that regard. Eira, though confident and seemingly resourceful, was a thief. She should be able to sense their magic if they had any. Thorne was a mercenary. Only Alric had magic, and by no means enough to take on palace guards. Isolde couldn’t shake the unease that settled over her. If the guards believed there was a magic user among them, then there was more to this situation and these people she found herself allied with than she had anticipated.

 

***

 

I watched as Isolde emerged from the trees, her steps quick, her expression unreadable. Thorne stood nearby, looking like he was itching to speak, but his eyes stayed on me, waiting for me to say something first.

“Do you mind telling us why you would risk going to where the guards were?” I finally asked, my voice tight with the frustration I had been holding back.

Isolde, clearly not used to being questioned, narrowed her eyes at me. “I told you already. I have the confidence of the queen. It would do me no good to have the guards find you, so I sent them away.”

I shook my head, not buying it. “Just like that? They must know you well to take your word and leave without a second thought.”

Her glare was sharp enough to cut through the tension between us. Without a word, she raised her hand, and there it was, a ring, glinting in the low light. The queen’s ring.

“This,” she said coldly, “was given to me by the queen herself, as proof of the importance of this mission. So, if you are done treating me as though I have committed some crime, I suggest we get moving. We will not stop until we reach the kingdom’s border and the town of Dunlevy. We need horses and supplies.”

With that, she turned and strode off along the path we had been following, not waiting for any of us to respond. I watched her go, my mind still spinning with questions and doubts. This mission was starting to feel like it had far more layers than I had bargained for, and Isolde’s mysterious connections were not helping.

Thorne clapped me on the shoulder as he passed, his rough grin cutting through the tension. “We will make a leader out of you yet, Caelan.”

I stared after Isolde, still not sure what to make of her, or of any of this.

 

***

 

Dunlevy was unlike anything I had ever seen. Growing up in the lower city of Avaloria, I had never ventured far from the palace's shadow. The streets here were muddy and chaotic, filled with traders haggling over goods and women calling out to men to join them. The whole place stank of sweat, dirt, and desperation, but there was a strange energy to it, too, a feeling of barely contained life, teetering on the edge of lawlessness.

I kept my eyes sharp as we walked through the narrow streets, spotting thieves darting between the crowds. I was used to seeing their kind, but this place was teeming with them. Sure enough, one bold little rat made a move for Isolde’s pouch. I grabbed his wrist before he even got close and gave him a hard look. He yanked his arm back and scurried off, muttering curses under his breath. Isolde glanced over her shoulder, offering me a slight nod of acknowledgment, but said nothing.

“We will stay the night here,” Isolde said as she led us toward an inn on the edge of the market square. “Eat, rest, and in the morning, we will gather the supplies we need before heading out.”

The inn looked much like the ones back in the lower city. Rough around the edges, with a smell of old ale and wet wood hanging in the air, but the people here seemed more on guard. I could feel eyes on us as we stepped inside, the locals sizing us up, deciding if we were worth any trouble.

We found a corner table and settled in. The tension of the road eased a little, and for a moment, we were just a group of tired travelers, waiting for food and a brief respite.

“So,” Thorne said, stretching his arms over his head, “Dunlevy. What do you think? Not exactly a royal welcome, but I could get used to this.”

“Speak for yourself,” Eira muttered, her eyes darting around the room. “I feel like every single person in here is watching us. And not in a good way.”

Alric gave a half-smile. “You must expect that in a place like this. They do not trust outsiders, especially ones who look like they have a little coin to spend.” He turned his eyes towards Isolde.

I glanced around the inn, catching more than a few suspicious looks in our direction. “It’s not that different from the lower city,” I said. “The only difference is we are the outsiders here.”

Thorne chuckled. “Caelan, you grew up with people like this. I, for one, would rather keep a blade close by than try to charm these people.”

Isolde, who had been silent up to that point, finally spoke. “We do not need to charm them. We just need to pass through without incident. One night, and we are gone.”

“That is the spirit,” Thorne grinned. “One quiet, peaceful night.”

“Since when has anything been quiet or peaceful with you around?” Eira shot back with a smirk.

I found myself smiling despite the unease gnawing at me. The banter was light, and for a moment, it felt like things might be normal, if anything about our journey could be considered normal.

When the food finally arrived, the conversation quieted down, and we all dug in, too hungry to care much about anything else. But I kept an eye on Isolde. There was something about her, something that made me wonder just how much she was not telling us.

The conversation shifted after we had eaten, growing more serious as Isolde explained the next steps of our journey.

“We will head to the island of Ishwan,” she said, her voice steady and commanding. “There is a convent there, of sorts, one that has preserved knowledge of Eldra and her magic. It is likely our best chance of finding where she might be located and could give us insights into Eldra’s dark magic.”

I had heard of Ishwan. It was a remote place, shrouded in mist and mystery. It was not a destination people visited lightly. The stories I had heard growing up were enough to make anyone think twice about setting foot there. But then again, this whole mission was based on whispers and shadows.

As Isolde spoke, Eira was drawing her usual attention from the men in the room. It was something I had grown accustomed to, but tonight, it seemed to bother me more than usual. Maybe it was the weariness from the road or the tension that still lingered from nearly being caught by the guards.

A large man, broad and thick with muscle but softened by a life of too much ale, sauntered over to our table. He glanced at Thorne briefly, but his attention was squarely on Eira.

“You should come join me, girl,” he said, his voice a low rumble that I imagined he thought sounded charming.

Eira ignored him, but the man leaned in closer. “I said, you should come join me.”

Thorne leaned back in his chair, a grin tugging at his lips. “Oh, this is going to be fun,” he muttered under his breath.

I sized the man up, noting the way he shifted his weight, favoring his right side. He was big, sure, but it was clear he was out of shape. His movements were sluggish, and I could tell he had seen more tankards of ale than battles.

“He’s a big fellow,” I said quietly, “but he favors his right. Slow, and not all that bulk is muscle.”

Thorne chuckled, catching my meaning immediately. “Too much ale,” he agreed. “He might be strong, but he will be slow. Not to mention winded after the first swing.”

Alric, who had been quietly watching the exchange, held out his hand. A small flame flickered to life in his palm, dancing just above his fingers. “I may be a healer,” he said softly, “but I am not opposed to a little harm, for the right reason, of course.”

Isolde, for her part, did not seem to notice or care. Her attention remained focused elsewhere, completely unbothered by the scene playing out in front of her

Eira finally looked up at the man, a grin spreading across her face. “What can I say, big boy? They all like me and I am rather fond of them.”

The man’s face turned red with anger, but he seemed to realize that picking a fight with an entire table full of people who clearly were not afraid of him was not in his best interest. With a growl of frustration, he turned and stomped away, muttering curses under his breath.

“Well,” Thorne said, clapping his hands together. “That was almost disappointing. I was hoping for a bit more entertainment.”

“It would have gone badly for him but take it from me that we probably don’t want to draw too much attention to us,” I said, though I could not help but share his amusement.

Eira gave me a wink. “Darling… You are so brave in wanting to protect my honor. Consider this an opportunity to become famous in all the kingdoms.”

I nudged her, “You do know you are a magnet for unscrupulous types, right Eira?”

She giggled, “I hang out with all of you, so yes.”

We all laughed, but there was a tension beneath the humor, a reminder that our journey was only getting more dangerous from here. And Dunlevy, with all its rough edges, was just the beginning.

 

***

 

We stepped out of the inn into the cool morning air, the sun barely peeking over the rooftops of Dunlevy. I stretched, trying to shake off the stiffness from the night’s sleep, but it only made the ache in my back worse.

Alric, always watchful, noticed and poked me square between the shoulders. I winced, feeling the sharp sting shoot down my spine.

“Does it hurt there?” he asked, his tone more curious than concerned.

“Yes!” I hissed through gritted teeth.

Eira, ever graceful and light on her feet, turned her head to me with an amused smirk. “What’s the matter, Cae? I thought the bed was rather comfortable.”

I stretched again, my muscles protesting the movement. “I have never slept in anything that soft before,” I muttered, rolling my shoulders. “So, I ended up on the floor.”

Before I could react, Thorne was behind me, wrapping his arms around my chest and pulling me into one of his bear hugs. He lifted me clean off the ground, squeezing until I felt something in my back crack painfully.

“Ouch!” I yelped, trying to wriggle free. “You need to learn some bedside manners from Alric! Though…” I twisted, testing my back, “…it does feel a bit better now.”

Thorne chuckled and set me down with a satisfied grin. “See? Fixed you right up.”

I rolled my eyes at him, though I could not deny I did feel less stiff. Eira laughed softly, and even Alric seemed amused by the whole exchange.

Isolde, as usual, was all business. She scanned the main street of Dunlevy, her sharp eyes taking in the traders setting up their stalls, the hustle of townspeople, and the occasional glance our way from the locals. She had that look of determination on her face, the one that meant she already had a plan.

“We need supplies,” she said, turning to us. “Food, weapons, bedrolls, and horses.”

She reached into her pouch and handed out coins to each of us. More money than I had ever seen in my entire life. Enough to feed me for a year, probably longer. I glanced at the others who seemed in just as much awe as I was.

Isolde gave me a task first. “Caelan, you get the weapons. Maybe a sword for yourself, and a bow for Eira.”

I nodded, tucking the coins away carefully, feeling very aware that I was now carrying something someone would want to steal from me.

“Eira,” Isolde continued, “you get the bedrolls and camping gear. Alric, pick up any medical supplies you need. Thorne, why don’t you look for good travel food items. You seem like someone that has travelled more than the others.”

“And the horses?” Thorne asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I will handle that,” Isolde replied, already stepping toward the stables.

With our tasks set, we each went our separate ways. I headed toward the blacksmith, my mind racing with thoughts of what kind of sword I would buy. I had never owned a sword before. Not a real one, at least.

I wandered through the bustling streets of Dunlevy, scanning the shops and stalls for a place to buy weapons. The clang of metal caught my ear, faint but distinct, coming from a narrow alleyway to my right. I turned toward the sound, thinking I had found the blacksmith.

But as I stepped into the alley, I heard heavy footsteps behind me.

I turned and found myself face to face with the big man from the inn. In the daylight, I could see him more clearly. The fine embroidery on his tunic, the gold rings on his thick fingers. He had wealth, that was obvious. But more than that, he had a lot of girth.

“Do you know who I am?” the man bellowed, his voice booming through the alley. He was a sight, looming over me with a face twisted in anger. “You insulted me last night, and I think you need to pay for that insult.”

Before I could say a word, the man unsheathed a sword, a beautiful piece of craftsmanship. The polished blade gleamed in the sunlight, its edge sharp and deadly.

I had no choice. I pulled out my dagger, the small blade looking pitiful compared to his sword. The big man laughed, a deep, mocking sound that echoed down the alley. His eyes gleamed with amusement, as if he couldn’t believe I would even try to fight him.

But the sound of more footsteps behind me made my stomach drop. I turned my head slightly and saw two more men stepping out from the shadows. Great, now it wasn’t just him. They were closing in on me, weapons drawn

The fight began before I even had a chance to think. The big man lunged first, his heavy sword slicing through the air, but he was slow. I dodged, sidestepping with ease and slashing at his side. My speed was my advantage. I had spent my life avoiding trouble, and now it was saving me. That and Thorne’s training. But dodging one blow put me dangerously close to the other two.

I felt the sting of a blade cut across my arm as I twisted to defend myself. My dagger clashed with one of the men’s swords, the force of the blow reverberating up my arm. The other swung at my legs, forcing me to jump back.

I was more agile than them all, but I wasn’t used to fighting on all sides like this. They were pressing in, forcing me back against the alley wall. A second blow hit my shoulder, and I gritted my teeth against the pain. I fought well, better than I ever had before, but it wasn’t enough. There were too many.

Then I felt a heavy weight slam into me, knocking the wind from my lungs. The big man had tackled me to the ground. I hit the cobblestones hard, and before I could move, they were on me, kicking, punching, each blow more painful than the last. My vision blurred, and I could taste blood in my mouth. I was losing.

And then something snapped inside me.

It wasn’t rage. It wasn’t fear. It was something else. Something deep, something I felt twice before.

A surge of energy rushed through me, hot and powerful, and suddenly, the men attacking me were thrown back, as if some invisible force had exploded out of me. They flew, crashing into the brick walls of the alley with a sickening thud.

I blinked, gasping for breath, and realized I wasn’t hurt anymore. The cuts, the bruises, they were gone. I was healing, fast. My head was spinning. How was this happening?

I staggered to my feet, feeling the energy still humming under my skin. The three men lay unconscious around me, their bodies slumped against the walls. I walked slowly over to the big man. He was starting to come to, groaning as he tried to sit up. When he saw me, his eyes widened in terror.

He flinched, scrambling back from me like I was some kind of monster.

I glanced down at the sword he had dropped, its polished blade lying just out of his reach. I bent down and picked it up, feeling the weight of it in my hand. It was a fine weapon, far better than anything I could afford even with Isolde’s money.

I looked back at the big man, who was now cowering at my feet.

“This seems like a fair trade,” I said, my voice calm despite the adrenaline still rushing through me. “Your sword for my wounds. What do you say?”

The man nodded frantically, fumbling with his scabbard as he hurried to get it off. He tossed it toward me, his hands shaking.

I sheathed the sword and strapped the scabbard to my belt, then turned and walked away without a backward glance. I didn’t want to think about what had just happened, about the magic, or whatever it was that had saved me. Not yet.

As I headed toward the blacksmith shop, still shaken from the fight, I saw Isolde standing there, watching me with her arms crossed. Her face was unreadable, but her eyes were sharp, taking in every detail.

“I saw that,” she said, her voice calm but laced with something I couldn’t quite place. “I watched the whole thing. I was about to intervene and help, but it seems you didn’t need any.”

I kept walking, trying to ignore the strange mix of emotions churning inside me. I didn’t want to talk about what had just happened. Not now.

Isolde followed me, her footsteps light but persistent. “I can’t sense any magic in you,” she said, keeping pace beside me. “And yet you defended yourself and healed yourself with it. That’s no small thing, Caelan.”

I clenched my jaw. She reached out suddenly, grabbing my arm and running her fingers through the torn, bloodied edges of my sleeve. Her touch was oddly gentle.

“That was a deep cut,” she murmured, almost to herself. “What you did takes a lot of magic.”

I pulled her to the side, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. “I can’t feel my magic,” I said, keeping my voice low. “It just... bursts out of me. This is the third time. I have never had magic until a few days ago. My life is a mess, Isolde.”

She didn’t say anything right away, just watched me with that same unreadable expression. Then, after a moment, she nodded, as if piecing something together in her mind.

“Magic doesn’t just happen like that, Caelan,” she said. "Not without some kind of trigger. And you... you’re like a dam that’s been cracked open." Her eyes were studying me, but it didn’t feel intrusive, more like she was trying to figure something out. “It’s dangerous, especially if you don’t understand it.”

I sighed, rubbing my forehead. “I don’t understand any of it. One minute, I’m living my life in the lower city, and the next, I’m... whatever this is. Fighting, healing, using magic I don’t even know how to control. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

Isolde chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Life has a funny way of giving us what we don’t ask for, Caelan. But you’re not alone in this. We will figure it out.”

Her words were oddly comforting, though I wasn’t sure why. I glanced down at the sword still strapped to my side, the weight of it unfamiliar but somehow reassuring.

Isolde’s gaze followed mine, and she grinned. “Nice sword, by the way. I take it the big fellow didn’t need it anymore?”

I smirked despite myself. “Consider it a trade for the beating.”

She laughed, a real laugh this time, light and genuine. “Well, come on then,” she said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Let’s get Eira a bow and get out of this town before you end up wanted in another kingdom.”

I nodded, grateful for the moment of levity, and followed her toward the blacksmith. Whatever was happening to me, I didn’t have to face it alone. Not anymore.

 

***

 

We regrouped on the outskirts of Dunlevy, the town’s muddy streets now behind us. Alric was the first to meet up with Isolde and me, his pack filled with medical supplies. Thorne appeared not long after, carrying enough provisions to last us for days. He nodded at me, and I could tell he had noticed my disheveled state, but before he could say anything, Eira arrived, her arms full of bedrolls and other camping gear.

As soon as she spotted me, she dropped everything and rushed over, her face full of concern. “What happened?” she asked, her hands hovering over the torn fabric of my sleeve, eyes darting to the bloodstained edges.

Before I could even open my mouth to answer, Isolde jumped in. “He was defending your honor,” she said with a smirk. “The fellow from the inn last night and two friends decided to teach Caelan a lesson.”

Eira’s eyes widened in shock, and she looked at me, clearly waiting for an explanation. I opened my mouth to correct Isolde, but she wasn’t done.

“The big man insulted you, Eira,” she continued, clearly enjoying the embellishment. “And Caelan fought all three of them. Quite the heroic display.”

“That’s not exactly what happened,” I interjected, shaking my head. “The big man from last night claimed I insulted him and decided I needed to be punished for it. That’s it.”

“And he fought well,” Isolde added with a shrug, “until they knocked him to the ground. I was about to step in and help when, lo and behold, Caelan turned on his magic. Threw all three of them into the walls, didn’t you, Caelan?”

Eira’s eyes were now fixed on me, wide and impressed. I could see she was already buying into Isolde’s dramatization.

“Really, Caelan,” Isolde added with a playful grin, “if you want to impress the girl, you should stick with my version of the story.”

I let out a sigh, running a hand through my hair. “I’m not trying to impress anyone, Isolde,” I muttered. “The truth is, I just reacted. I didn’t even know what I was doing. It all just… happened.”

Eira, still staring at me, seemed to be processing the information. “You used magic again?” she asked softly, her voice laced with a mix of awe and concern.

“Yes,” I admitted, glancing away. “I did. But not on purpose. I couldn’t control it.”

Isolde stepped forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Magic or not, you handled yourself well, Caelan. And if nothing else, you’ve earned yourself a sword out of the whole ordeal.”

Eira grinned, though there was still a hint of worry in her eyes. “Well, even if Isolde is embellishing, you were only in that situation because of me and had he insulted me, I know you are a man of honor, Caelan.”

I winced a bit at the phrase man of honor, but I smiled back, grateful for her understanding.

After packing up our supplies and mounting the horses, we set off quickly. Thorne looked completely at ease in the saddle, guiding his horse with effortless control. Isolde too, was in her element, riding with a fluid grace that came from years of experience. Even Eira, who had no experience riding a horse, adapted quickly, looking comfortable and composed as her horse trotted along. Alric, on the other hand, while smooth in his riding, kept complaining under his breath about how unnatural it was to travel by horse.

I, on the other hand, was having a miserable time. The horse Isolde had chosen for me seemed determined to make my life as difficult as possible. It fought my every command, snorted at me in defiance, and frequently tried to throw me off balance. It purposefully tried to unseat me by moving under low branches. By the time we made camp that evening, I was sore, frustrated, and not at all looking forward to another day of battling with the infernal beast. As I dismounted, the horse swung its head around and tried to bite me.

“Dammit!” I muttered, stepping back in frustration.

Isolde, having witnessed the whole struggle, walked over. She stood beside me, arms crossed, watching me closely for a moment before speaking. “Do you know that horses can form a natural bond with people?” she asked.

I shook my head. “No. I have never been around horses before today. This one seems to hate me.”

A small smile played on her lips as she approached the horse. With a calm word and a gentle hand, she soothed the creature, the tension in its body melting away almost instantly. I blinked in surprise at how effortlessly she calmed it

“I grew up with horses,” Isolde explained, her voice soft as she stroked the animal’s neck. “My family raised the best horses on the continent, sought after by nobles and wealthy merchants. It was as if there was magic in our blood, something that made horses respond to us unlike anyone else.” She paused, glancing at me with a thoughtful look. “Try it, Caelan.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Me? That beast nearly took my arm off.”

Isolde chuckled. “Close your eyes,” she instructed. “Picture the horse reacting to you the way it did to me. Horses are sensitive to emotion. You must calm your thoughts, let go of your frustration. When you feel steady, speak soothing words to him and reach out.”

I hesitated but did as she said. Closing my eyes, I took a few deep breaths, forcing myself to calm down. I imagined the horse responding to my touch, as ridiculous as that seemed. When I felt a little more at peace, I spoke softly and extended my hand.

To my amazement, the horse didn’t shy away. It allowed me to touch its neck, and for the first time all day, it didn’t fight me. I ran my hand along its mane, marveling at the change in its demeanor.

“See?” Isolde said softly, watching me with a quiet smile. “It’s not about forcing control. It’s about understanding.”

I looked at her, still in awe of how easily she had managed to teach me what I couldn’t figure out all day. “I didn’t think it would work,” I admitted.

She held my gaze for a long moment, something unreadable in her eyes. Then she smiled, “Me either. This horse really does have a nasty disposition. Lucky it didn’t bite your fingers off.” Then, without another word, she turned and wandered back toward the campfire, leaving me standing beside the now-docile horse, more than a little amazed by the strangeness of the moment.

As I wandered away from the camp to gather firewood, the last few days seemed to blur together in my mind. Everything felt like a dream, fighting, traveling, the overwhelming uncertainty that had begun to settle over me. I picked up a few dry branches, my thoughts drifting back to the fight from earlier, and the two other times magic had inexplicably come to me.

The first two instances were easy to explain. In those moments, I had felt a burning sense of injustice, a helplessness that stirred something deep within me, pushing me beyond what I thought I was capable of. The fight earlier had a similar thread running through it. In my final moments, I had been worried, not for myself, but for Eira. If I died, I wouldn’t be able to protect her, and the thought of being beaten by those men, by an unfair situation, had gnawed at me. Then the magic erupted.

But now, as I tried to recall that moment, I couldn’t grasp it. I couldn't pull the magic back up or control it. It was like trying to hold onto water as it slipped right through my fingers. As soon as it was gone, it was as if the magic never existed at all.

I returned to the campsite, dropped the wood next to the fire, and sat down on a log, feeling the more confused than ever. Glancing around the group, I noticed Isolde watching me again. She always seemed to be observing, as if she was trying to figure me out, and lately, it seemed like her focus was more on me than the others.

Eira appeared at my side and sat next to me, pulling out a needle and thread to mend the torn fabric on my shoulder. Her hands moved deftly as she worked, but she didn’t say anything, her presence comforting in its quietness.

Alric, however, broke the silence. “You have had three magic outbursts,” he said, his tone casual but laced with curiosity. “I want you to try again.”

I looked up at him, unsure. “What, right now?”

He nodded and gestured to a stick lying at my feet. “Pick up that stick. Imagine what it would look like if the end was on fire. Picture it clearly in your mind. Then push.”

Skeptical but willing to try, I bent down and picked up the stick, holding it in front of me. I imagined flames licking at the end, bright and crackling, the heat radiating from it. I focused, tried to feel that same surge of power that had come to me in the heat of battle.

But nothing happened.

I frowned, my frustration building, and tossed the stick into the fire. The flames flickered as the wood caught, but it wasn’t the result of any magic, just the natural order of things.

Alric didn’t look surprised. He simply gave me a thoughtful nod. “It will come when it’s ready,” he said, his voice calm. “Magic is often tied to emotion, to will, but you can’t force it. When you need it, really need it, it will be there.”

I sighed, leaning back and glancing up at the darkening sky. Eira finished stitching up my shoulder and patted me lightly, offering a small smile before standing and walking back toward the fire. I watched her lithe movements, her beauty, and the yearning deep within me all came rushing back.

 

***

 

The next day we headed northwest, the coast somewhere in the distance, and I was pleased to find my horse responding to me far better since the night before. Isolde’s advice had worked. The day was clear, the road winding through a narrow gully, when suddenly shouts erupted all around us. My heart leaped into my throat.

Before I could react, arrows whistled past, and men charged down the steep hills with swords drawn, their wild yells echoing off the stone walls.

“Eira!” I heard Isolde shout, but in a flash, Eira tackled Isolde off her horse, just in time for the arrows to miss them both. I barely had time to register the danger before I dismounted and drew my sword. It felt unfamiliar in my hand, but there wasn’t time to dwell on that. A man barreled toward me, his sword gleaming in the sunlight, and I met him with a swing of my own.

The clash of steel rang in my ears as I parried his first strike. His strength was greater than mine, but I was faster. I sidestepped his follow-up swing and slashed across his chest, sending him tumbling to the ground. Before I could catch my breath, another attacker closed in. I fought hard, the adrenaline and panic of battle driving me forward.

Around me, chaos erupted. I caught glimpses of Alric casting small fireballs into the trees, the bandit archers shrieking as they fell from their perches, their bodies tumbling to the ground in flames. Eira, beside Isolde, had drawn her blade and was fiercely fending off a man who had come for them both. And Thorne, Thorne was a whirlwind. He fought like a one-man army, cutting through the attackers with brutal efficiency.

In what felt like moments, it was over. The bandits lay sprawled on the ground, either unconscious or dead. Not one of us had been seriously injured, but the energy of the fight still pumped through my veins.

“Mount up,” Isolde said sharply, her voice steady, but I could tell she was shaken. “We need to get out of here quickly.”

I wiped the sweat from my brow and swung back onto my horse, still catching my breath. As we rode away from the scene, I glanced over at Alric, who rode beside me. He gave me a sideways look, his tone almost teasing.

“No magic, Caelan?”

I shook my head, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “None.”

I hadn’t been able to summon even a flicker of magic, not when it would have made a difference. That same gnawing feeling of helplessness crawled over me, but I tried to push it down.

Isolde had moved up next to Eira, her expression softening. “You have my thanks, Eira,” she said, her voice filled with a rare warmth. She glanced at all of us in turn. “All of you have my thanks.”

Eira smiled back, though her face was still flushed from the fight. I caught her looking at me briefly before turning away, and something about the moment stirred in me. A connection, maybe, or just the simple relief that we were all still standing.

After a few miles of hard riding, we slowed to let the horses rest. I settled in next to Eira, grateful for the moment of respite. The cool breeze felt refreshing against my skin, and I stole glances at Isolde, who was talking quietly with Thorne. There was something oddly familiar about her, something that stirred a deep sense of loss within me.

“You need to train with that sword,” Eira said, breaking the silence. “I was watching you, Caelan. You move well, but Thorne can teach you to adapt to the balance of the blade.”

I nodded, thinking about how much I still had to learn. But my attention was pulled back to Isolde as I overheard snippets of her probing Alric for information. Her voice was low, but I could hear her asking about each of us, her focus lingering on my history. A mix of curiosity and unease twisted in my gut.

Turning back to Eira, I watched her graceful form as she spoke. There was a yearning within me that transcended mere desire; it was a deep longing not just for her, but to be her, to embody the strength and determination I saw in her.

“You fought well, Eira,” I said, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside me. “You saved Isolde. You’re free of the guild out here. You could go your own way, and they would never know.”

Eira looked at me, a smile spreading across her face that struck me with an ache I couldn’t quite place. “I want to be here with you. For now,” she said, her voice warm yet tinged with something I couldn’t define. “I have never been outside the kingdom. Never seen the ocean. Why not let Isolde pay my way to see sights I only dreamed about?”

I glanced at Isolde, who had moved next to Thorne. The two were sharing a laugh, and I could hear Thorne’s deep voice echoing in the quiet of the forest. “Let me tell you about Caelan…” he said, and a wave of discomfort washed over me.

My focus returned to Eira as she continued speaking. “Besides, there’s no princess for me in Avaloria.”

Her words stung, and I felt a pang of sorrow for her situation. Eira had dreams, aspirations that reached beyond the confines of the kingdom. A part of me wanted to tell her that she was more than capable of pursuing those dreams, that she could forge her own path if she chose to.

But as I watched her, that longing resurfaced. The world felt vast and full of possibilities, yet here we were, tethered by circumstance and duty. I wanted to reach out, to tell her that I would be with her every step of the way, but my own uncertainty held me back.

For now, we were together, and that would have to be enough. I just hoped that the road ahead would be kinder to us than the one behind.

 

***

 

The crackling fire cast flickering shadows around us, and I looked from one face to another, a sense of gratitude filling my chest. These were my friends, and yet I couldn't shake the regret for the circumstances around me that had led us into this situation.

I glanced at Isolde, who sat alone a few feet away, sorrow etched in her features. I took a deep breath, stood up, and moved to sit beside her. “I have heard you asking us about each other,” I said quietly, keeping my voice low enough not to disrupt the others.

Isolde turned to me, her eyes reflecting the firelight and a moment of contemplation before she spoke. “You grew up on the streets, an orphan, taken in by the thieves' guild. You found a way out on your own. That is commendable, Caelan.”

I pointed towards my friends gathered around the fire. “If it weren’t for them, I would have never found my way. They are good people who don’t deserve to be caught up in my trouble.”

“Caelan,” she said softly, a hint of compassion in her tone, “that’s what friends are for. I have heard nothing from any of you that makes me think you are criminals.”

Eira, sitting across the fire, narrowed her eyes at Isolde but remained silent.

I shook my head firmly. “We’re not. I guess I was but I’m not now. Unless honor and mercy have become a crime in Avaloria.”

Isolde gave me a knowing look, her expression shifting from sorrow to understanding. “You carry a burden, Caelan, but that doesn’t define who you are now. The past is just that, the past. You have the chance to be something more.”

“I want to be better,” I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper.

Isolde smiled gently. “Then let’s make a pact. We move forward together, no secrets, no regrets. We fight for each other, and we build something better.”

Isolde stood abruptly, her demeanor shifting as she addressed the team. “No secrets,” she repeated, her voice steady and resolute. “Tomorrow we will reach the coast and cross to the Island of Ishwan. The women there are connected to magic and ancient secrets. They will see right through my glamor.”

With those words, her face shimmered and shifted, settling into the image of Queen Lisandra. The transformation was startling, a wave of recognition crashing over us. We all stared at her in shock, the gravity of the moment sinking in.

Thorne was the first to react, dropping to one knee. “My Queen,” he said, his voice low and reverent.

Eira hissed, clearly taken aback, but she too bent her head, a gesture of respect she seemed to feel conflicted about. Alric followed suit, bowing deeply, the weight of his loyalty evident.

But I remained standing, fury coursing through me. This wasn’t the queen I had hoped for; this was a woman who had turned her back on her people. She had lied to us. I felt the heat of their gazes on me, urging me to conform, to bow to authority. But I couldn’t. Would I kneel for someone who allowed injustice to reign in Avaloria?

Thorne leaned closer, whispering urgently, “Kneel before your queen, Caelan.”

The queen, Isolde, watched me carefully, her expression unreadable. “What is the matter, Caelan?” she asked, her voice softer but still holding an edge.

“You are not my queen,” I spat, the anger rising within me. “Would our queen ignore the plight of the people? Would our queen let her guards burn sick people alive? Would our queen allow the rule of law to punish those who have committed no crimes? Do you have your guards waiting in the forest with ropes to string us all up?”

Silence hung in the air. Thorne’s eyes widened, the shock of my words reflected in everyone’s expressions. Eira, still kneeling, glanced up at me, her surprise mingling with a hint of admiration. Alric remained bowed, perhaps conflicted about the turmoil unfolding.

Queen Lisandra’s features softened for a moment, the fierce determination replaced by something more vulnerable. “I know the kingdom suffers, Caelan. I am not blind to it. I cannot change the past, but I am here now, and I want to help.”

“Help?” I shot back, incredulous. “How can you help when your very presence is a reminder of everything that’s gone wrong?”

Thorne shifted uncomfortably, while Alric's deep bow became less a gesture of loyalty and more a shield against the storm brewing between the queen and me.

Queen Lisandra’s voice was softer now, filled with an emotion I hadn’t expected. “Rise, all of you,” she said, her tone commanding yet gentle. “Caelan is right to mistrust me, to mistrust the royal family of Avaloria. You deserve to know the truth and why this mission is so important. Please, sit.”

We exchanged glances, unsure of what was coming next, but did as she asked. I sat down beside Eira, needing to feel her steadfastness. The queen took a deep breath and began her tale, and though I tried not to care, there was something in her words that pulled me in.

“Magic is the lifeblood of Avaloria,” she began. “It keeps the kingdom safe, prosperous, and strong. The heir, in every generation, maintains the continuity of that magic, ensuring the kingdom thrives. But when I became pregnant with our daughter, something went wrong.”

Lisandra’s gaze flickered, her eyes shadowed by the memory. “I was dying. No magic in the land could heal me, no mage, no healer. King Cedric, my beloved husband, was desperate. He sought out Eldra, a dark witch we held captive, and made an oath to save me. I’m sure you’ve heard rumors of that story.”

I stiffened. “We have all heard it,” I interrupted, the words coming out harsher than I intended. “The king made a deal, and we’re all paying for it now.”

The queen nodded, acknowledging my bitterness. “Yes, you have heard the bones of it. But what I’m about to tell you is something no one else knows, and it’s for your ears only. Eldra didn’t just ask for the king’s power to heal me. She tricked him. She siphoned his magic, all of it. King Cedric was left without a drop of magic to his name, and the kingdom began to wither. The sickness you see now, the suffering, the dying crops, dried up rivers, and collapsing structures, that is because my magic cannot sustain the kingdom. The heir by blood is always connected to the land with unique magic to maintain the kingdom.”

Eira shifted beside me, her hand brushing mine for just a moment, as if to remind me she was there.

Queen Lisandra’s eyes were filled with a kind of sorrow I hadn’t expected. “Our daughter… our lost princess… is the only one who can restore the balance. Only her magic can revive Avaloria. And without her...”

She trailed off, her voice breaking slightly. “My husband lies near death, Caelan. The king you despise is wasting away, and there’s nothing I can do to save him. Nothing but find our daughter before she turns eighteen in less than two months. If we don’t, the kingdom will fall.”

Despite my anger, I found myself staring at her, struggling to process everything she had said. All of this, the suffering, the decay, it wasn’t just the fault of corrupt rulers. It was something darker, more complicated.

“You think finding the princess will fix everything?” I asked, my voice quiet but edged with skepticism.

Lisandra met my gaze, her expression determined. “I don’t just think it, Caelan. I know it. She is the key. The only one who can undo what Eldra did, who can restore the magic. And time is running out.”

I glanced around at my companions. Thorne, Alric, Eira, all of them were listening intently. Eira’s eyes caught mine, a flicker of something I couldn’t quite place passing between us.

“This mission,” the queen continued, “is not just about saving the crown. It’s about saving Avaloria, its people, its future. I have no more secrets. What you decide to do now is up to you. If you want to go your own way, I will write you a pardon to absolve you. It is the least I can do.”

She fell silent, and the crackle of the fire was the only sound that filled the pause that followed.

I clenched my fists, my mind racing. The kingdom was falling apart, and now we were caught in the middle of this twisted web of power and deception. But could I trust her? Could I trust any of it?

Finally, I spoke. “I’m not doing this for the royal family,” I said, my voice low but firm. “If we find the princess, it’s for the people who have and are suffering. For the ones who can’t fight back.”

Queen Lisandra nodded, understanding the unspoken challenge in my words. “That’s all I can ask, Caelan.”

I stood as I faced the others. “I choose to help Queen Lisandra,” I said, my voice steady but carrying the uncertainty of what lay ahead. “But I can’t speak for all of you.”

The queen nodded, gratitude in her eyes, though I could still sense the urgency behind her calm exterior. “Thank you, Caelan,” she said softly before addressing the rest of the group. “We have heard from Caelan. Now, what about the rest of you?”

Thorne, ever stoic, looked past me toward the queen. “Caelan needs to learn how to use his sword better, so if it’s all right with you, your majesty, I will come along,” he said, his voice calm but resolute. “I will see to it that he learns to adapt to the weight of his blade.”

The queen inclined her head toward him. “Thank you, Thorne.”

Then Alric stood, his hands fumbling awkwardly, though there was no mistaking the warmth in his voice. “I’m tempted to ask for a proper hospital,” he said with a nervous laugh, “but there’s nothing back in Avaloria for me without my friends. Caelan, well, he gets into trouble a lot, and I think he could use my, um... sage wisdom and guidance.” He winked at me, his humor barely masking his sincerity. “So, if it’s all right with you, your majesty, I would like to come along. I need nothing in return.”

I smiled at that. Alric had always been the glue that held us together, even when we didn’t deserve it.

All eyes turned to Eira next. She sighed, a long, heavy exhale as if she had been holding something in for too long. “I can never go back to Avaloria,” she began, her voice quieter than usual. “I lied to you, Caelan. I wasn’t sent to bring you back to the guild. I just... I just needed you there with me. You ground me. You make me feel like I can be a better person.” Her gaze softened as it met mine, and I felt my stomach twist with a mixture of confusion and something else, something deeper.

“In the guild’s eyes, I have run away, and now I have a death sentence on my head or a lifetime of paying back a debt that I will never be able to repay. I will be forced to keep stealing, maybe even killing, for others’ benefit.”

Her voice caught, and I could feel the pain behind her words. “I have envied you, Caelan. Envied that you got away, that you found a way to be free. But I don’t want to keep running. I want to prove to myself that I can do something good, that I’m capable of more than just taking. And Caelan...” She paused, her gaze steady now, cutting through me with an intensity I hadn’t expected. “You have such a good heart. I want to stay, so you can help me be all I can be.”

Her words touched the deepest part of me, and for a moment, I couldn’t speak. I hadn’t known the depth of her struggle, her pain. The way she had looked at me just now, it wasn’t just admiration, it was a plea. A plea for redemption.

The queen remained quiet, allowing us that moment, before finally saying, “Thank you, Eira. All of you.”

 

***

 

The next day, Queen Lisandra pulled her horse up next to mine, her gaze steady as she looked over at me. I could see the weariness in her eyes, the depth of her responsibilities hanging over her.

“Why didn’t you just take the army?” I asked, my frustration slipping through. “Why sneak out like this? You could have brought a force, something.”

She sighed, the kind of sigh that spoke of long nights and endless worry. “The army? What army, Caelan? There’s hardly one left. The guards we have are new recruits, eager for income, yes, but ill-trained, undisciplined. There’s not enough manpower to deal with the state of things, and I couldn’t risk drawing any more attention to our journey.”

As we rode, her gaze softened as she looked over at my friends, riding just behind us. “I’m impressed by their loyalty to you,” she said. “They could have asked for anything last night, and I would have done my best to give it to them. But they’re here for you, not for me. That loyalty… it shows me how much I have failed the kingdom.”

I glanced back at Alric, Thorne, and Eira, who rode quietly in the dappled shadows of the forest. They had stayed for me, and that truth hit me harder than I expected.

“I have no doubt what you told us last night is true, my queen,”

“Please, call me Lisandra,” she said softly, almost as if the title of queen had become a burden she no longer wished to carry.

I nodded, hesitating for a moment before I continued. “I understand more now. I see how things got so bad, but that doesn’t absolve you or the king. You’re still responsible for what’s happened to the people.”

She nodded, her expression solemn. “Yes,” she said quietly. “We have a lot to account for, and I know it won’t be easy. But that’s why we need to find the princess, to save the kingdom and begin to atone for our mistakes.”

I didn’t reply right away. There was no simple solution, no easy way to forgive a lifetime of failures from those in power. But at least now, I understood her better. She wasn’t the untouchable monarch I had imagined; she was just a woman, trying desperately to save what little remained of a kingdom crumbling around her.

And despite everything, I was starting to believe she might just care enough to do it.

I glanced back at Eira, riding silently behind us. After last night’s confession, she had barely spoken to me, her usual sharp wit subdued. Her silence gnawed at me, but I couldn’t find the words to bridge the distance between us.

“Caelan,” Lisandra’s voice broke the quiet, her tone soft but steady, drawing my attention back to the road ahead. “You love her.”

It wasn’t a question, and it pulled me from my thoughts. I blinked, focusing on the path stretching out before us. “I do,” I admitted all too easily. “But it can never be.”

“Why?” Lisandra asked, genuinely curious.

I sighed. “The world we grew up in is neither kind nor gentle. It breaks people, and Eira... she can’t be with men. I can’t blame her. The memories for her are too painful.”

Lisandra glanced back at Eira, her expression thoughtful. “I think she loves you, Caelan. Whether or not you two can be a couple doesn’t stop the love from being there. She needs you.”

Without another word, I nudged my horse to drift back alongside Eira. She noticed me approach but didn’t say anything at first, her eyes fixed on the horizon.

“I’m sorry, Caelan,” she finally said, her voice low. “For lying to you about the guild. I just... I thought I would never be able to achieve what you did. Every time I saw you, it reminded me I was broken, and I hated myself for it. I would have pulled you down with me, dragged you back into that trap just to be close to you. I’m sorry.”

I shook my head, my heart aching at her words. “You have nothing to be sorry about, Eira. If I had known you wanted a way out, I would have worked harder for both of us.”

She looked at me, her eyes searching mine. “Why, Caelan? To what end?”

I hesitated. “I know you don’t need my protection, Eira. But surely you know I would do anything for you. I would marry you just to keep you safe from harm, even if it meant we could never be together the way normal couples are.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and before I could gauge her reaction, she grabbed my arm, her face lighting up with a sudden, childlike joy. “The ocean, Caelan! Look! It’s so beautiful!”

I followed her gaze, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The shimmering blue horizon stretched out before us, vast and untamed, and for the first time in a long while, I saw the wonder in Eira’s eyes, free from the pain and darkness of our shared past.

We all stared out at the landscape before us, captivated by the vastness of the ocean. To me, it felt like the opposite of everything I had ever known. It was clean and pure, far from the muddy open sewers of the lower city I grew up in. The air was fresh, the smell of salt in it, and in the misty distance was an island, with tall cliffs that seemed to rise straight out of the water, shrouded in a veil of mystery.

“That’s the Island of Ishwan,” Lisandra announced, her voice steady and confident. “We travel north to Ishwan-dek and take a boat to the island.”

We set off along the coast, the beauty of the shoreline accompanying us for miles. I couldn’t help but marvel at how different this place was from everything I had seen in Avaloria. When we finally reached Ishwan-dek, the town was a stark contrast to the crumbling, worn-out city back home. The streets were clean, well-kept, and there was an order to everything. The very air seemed to hum with energy, suggesting that the magic here was still intact, untouched by the decay that had taken hold of Avaloria.

As we slowly rode our horses, I turned to Lisandra, who had once again hidden herself behind the glamour of Isolde. “Who runs the kingdom here?” I asked, curious about this strange, thriving place.

She glanced at me, her expression unreadable. “Ishwan and Ishwan-dek are neutral,” she explained. “The magic users of the island protect everything they can see from their cliffs. They keep this land safe from outside influence.”

It made sense. There was a calmness here, a sense of stability that was completely absent in Avaloria. We found a place to stall the horses and made our way toward the docks. The streets, paved with stone, felt solid underfoot, and the docks were bustling but organized, a far cry from the chaos I had expected.

As we approached, I couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of unease. This place was beautiful, sure, but it was foreign. I glanced at the others, wondering if they felt it too. Eira was quiet, still avoiding my gaze, while Thorne and Alric took in their surroundings with quiet curiosity. Lisandra, or rather, Isolde under her guise, walked ahead of us all, her presence commanding, even hidden beneath her disguise.

Isolde wasted no time once we arrived at the docks, quickly finding a small boat to take us across to the island of Ishwan. I had to admire her for that, negotiating with ease, no doubt a skill perfected over years as queen. Even disguised as she was, there was something natural in the way she handled people, bending situations to her will without seeming forceful. It made me wonder if there was ever a time when she could not simply get what she wanted with a few words.

When she waved us over to the boat, the man looked us over and paused, his eyes narrowing at me, Thorne, and Alric. “The men cannot come,” he said, his voice gravelly and flat, like it was not even up for discussion.

I expected a longer argument, but Isolde, or Queen Lisandra, I had to remind myself, met his gaze, completely unfazed. “That is my problem to deal with,” she replied, her tone smooth and cold. The man shrugged, barely convinced, but did not argue further.

We climbed into the boat. It was smaller and ricketier than I had expected, the wood creaking under our weight as it rocked in the waves. The water slapped against the sides, making Eira visibly uneasy. She kept glancing down at the dark, churning sea below, her grip tight on the edge of the boat.

“The water looked safer from the shore,” she muttered, her eyes never leaving the water.

I wanted to reach out to her, say something reassuring, but the truth was, I was not too fond of the sea either. The ride was quiet, the sound of the oars cutting through the water and the splash of waves the only noises as we drifted toward the island. No conversation, no distractions, just the steady, rhythmic splash of water. It was almost unsettling.

When we finally docked at the island, the man gave us no parting words, just turned his boat and rowed away like he wanted to be done with us as quickly as possible. I did not blame him. This place felt different, like we had crossed into another world altogether.

I looked at the cliffs towering nearby, the mist still hanging low around them. The air smelled cleaner, sharper. For a moment, I allowed myself to believe that maybe things would go smoothly from here on out.

But I knew better.

As we stepped forward, I found myself looking up at a narrow stairway carved into the cliffs, rising impossibly high above us. The stone steps were steep, almost vertical in some spots, with the cliffs themselves forming a natural wall on either side. It was the kind of place that, if attacked, would be nearly impossible to breach. A single archer from above could wipe out an entire force on the narrow steps.

Before we could even set foot on the first step, four women guards appeared as if out of nowhere, blocking our path. Above them, perched on the higher steps, more guards had arrows trained directly on us, ready to fire at the slightest hint of trouble. Their precision was unnerving. They had been waiting for us.

Isolde, still in her glamor, raised her hands in a calm, almost casual gesture, and as she dropped the illusion, the guard in front of us dipped her head respectfully. “We were told you would be arriving, Queen Lisandra,” she said, her voice formal and devoid of emotion. “However, we do not allow men on the island.”

Behind me, I heard Eira giggle softly. She nudged me in the ribs, a mischievous grin on her face. “I like this place already. No men... it’s like heaven.”

I forced a smile, but inside, I felt a strange sense of agreement with her. No men. A place where women were free, where their authority was unquestioned. I envied them. For a moment, I wished I were one of them, that I could just... belong here.

Lisandra’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “If you are worried about them,” she said, nodding toward us, “we can disarm them and keep them from wandering about. But they are crucial to the conversations we need to have with your elders.”

The guard hesitated, her eyes shifting between me, Thorne, and Alric. I could see the calculation behind her gaze, whether to trust us or throw us out. Every second of silence stretched painfully, the tension thick in the air. I wondered if they might just turn us away, and what that would mean for the mission, for everything we had come this far to do.

“I apologize, Queen Lisandra. The answer is no.”

As I stood there, unsure if we would be allowed past the guards, an older woman appeared on the steps. She moved gracefully despite her age, her long robes flowing behind her as she descended toward us. There was an air of quiet authority about her that made even the guards step back as she approached.

“It is quite all right, Celeste,” she said, addressing the guard who had blocked our path. “We knew they were coming with men, and we have made arrangements for this.”

She turned to Lisandra, offering a small, respectful bow of her head. “Queen Lisandra, my name is Vanya, this place is a haven for women. If there is even the slightest provocation from your men, I can assure you they will find themselves departing by a route much less desirable.”

Lisandra nodded, her expression solemn. “They will be on their best behavior, I assure you.”

Without hesitation, I began to remove my scabbard, figuring it was best to show compliance and avoid causing any unnecessary alarm. But the old woman raised her hand, stopping me mid-motion. “No need to disarm yourself, Caelan. Our guards are more than capable.”

I froze, the strap of my sword half-undone, and stared at her in surprise. “How do you know my name?” I asked, startled. The words came out more abruptly than I intended, but I could not help it. How could she possibly know who I was?

She smiled, a knowing, almost cryptic look in her eyes. “All in good time,” she replied, her tone soft but firm, leaving no room for further questions. “Take a good breath, you will be out of it by the time you arrive at the top.”

I exchanged glances with the team, but none of them seemed any less bewildered than I was. Without further explanation, the old woman turned and began ascending the steep stairs.

The climb was brutal. The steps were carved from stone, uneven and slick from the sea mist, and they seemed to stretch endlessly upward. I was panting after only a few minutes, and every time I looked up, it seemed like the top was no closer than before.

When we finally reached the top of the stairs, I had to stop and catch my breath. The climb had left my legs trembling and my lungs burning, but as I stepped out onto the plateau, the exhaustion quickly faded. Warm sunlight bathed the landscape, and for a moment, I just stood there, taking it all in.

We were surrounded by guards, their watchful eyes never leaving us, but it was not their presence that held my attention. Behind them, a sprawling city stretched out, pristine and beautiful, nothing like the crumbling ruins of Avaloria. Flowers bloomed in neat rows, their colors vibrant against the backdrop of well-tended gardens. Even animals, cows and goats, grazed peacefully in pens. It felt... peaceful here, untouched by the decay that had gripped our kingdom.

Before I could fully take in the sight, Vanya motioned for us to follow her. She wasted no time leading us to a large stone building that loomed ahead. Its sturdy walls and high ceilings made it clear this place was important, a seat of power or knowledge. Once inside, she turned to face us, her expression as unreadable as ever.

“Sit, please,” she said, her voice calm but commanding. “I have refreshments and food arriving soon.”

I glanced around the room, noting its sparse but comfortable furnishings. It felt less like a prison and more like a waiting area, though her next words quickly dispelled any lingering hope that we might have free reign here.

“During your stay with us,” Vanya continued, “your men will only interact with me or members of your team. They will stay here in this room for the duration.”

I tensed at that, glancing over at Thorne and Alric. They both remained silent, but I could see the unease in their eyes. We had just been confined to a single room for the foreseeable future.

Turning to Eira and Queen Lisandra, Vanya’s tone softened. “Eira and Queen Lisandra, we will have other accommodation available to you, and you are free to go anywhere you like.”

The implication was clear. Eira and Lisandra would be treated as equals, allowed to move about as they pleased. But for the rest of us, Thorne, Alric, and me, we were to be kept under strict watch, confined and limited in our interactions. It stung, though I suppose I should have expected it. This island was a haven for women, and we were unwelcome intruders

I caught Eira’s eye, but she quickly looked away, her expression unreadable. There was no humor in her this time, no teasing remarks about how this place must be heaven for her. Instead, there was only silence as we all took our seats, waiting for whatever came next.

As we sat down, trays of food and drink were placed before us. I glanced at the spread, fresh bread, fruits, and what looked like roasted meats, and though my stomach grumbled, the tension in the room kept me from digging in right away. Vanya, sitting at the head of the table, watched us closely. She wasn’t hurried or anxious, but there was a quiet intensity about her that made it clear we were here for more than just a meal.

A pretty servant girl paused and winked at Eira, causing Eira to blush a little. This was a place where she could live and be free to find her princess. I wanted that for her, but at the same time, it hurt.

Once the servants left, Vanya leaned forward, folding her hands on the table. “We knew you were coming,” she said, her voice steady. “Our seers gave us visions of your arrival.”

I paused, my hand halfway to the cup in front of me. Seers? Visions? It sounded like the stuff of old fairy tales, yet there was no mistaking the certainty in her tone. She knew more about our journey than we had revealed.

Vanya’s gaze swept over each of us before she continued. “We know you seek the lost princess of Avaloria and the witch Eldra.”

At the mention of the princess and Eldra, I exchanged a glance with Queen Lisandra. Her expression remained composed, but I could see the flicker of surprise in her eyes. Whatever Vanya’s seers had told her, it was clear they were well-informed.

“We wish to aid you in your journey,” Vanya said, her voice low but unwavering.

A strange sense of relief washed over me, though I was careful not to show it. It had been a long road to get here, and I wasn’t sure what kind of reception we would face on this island. But if these women were offering their help, maybe we had a real chance of finding the princess and stopping Eldra before time ran out.

Still, something about this whole situation made me uneasy. The seers had seen us coming, but how much did they know? And what kind of price would come with their aid?

I cleared my throat. “Please excuse me for speaking out of turn, but why would you help us? From what I understand, this island remains neutral.”

Vanya’s eyes sharpened, and a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Neutral, yes. But neutrality does not mean indifference. If Avaloria falls, the ripple effects will reach even this haven. The balance of magic in the world is delicate. Eldra threatens that balance.”

Eira moved food around on her plate. “I must admit that I am skeptical. No offense, Vanya, but we grew up hearing about the lost princess and every year the king tried to find her. For you to say you want to help us would suggest you believe the princess is still alive and can be found.”

Vanya’s voice carried an authority that left no room for debate as she continued, her gaze sweeping over us like a storm. “I know the princess exists because the balance of magic tells me so. The curse has not claimed the magic, and that alone is proof.”

Across the table, Eira shook her head in disbelief, her fingers twisting in her lap. “If the princess existed, why doesn’t she just use her magic to escape and return to Avaloria? Why hide if she has the power to break the curse?”

Vanya’s gaze settled on Eira, then slowly shifted toward me. Her eyes lingered, deep and knowing, before she responded. “If you were taken as an infant and raised without knowledge of who you truly were, then there is nothing to escape from. To her, this life is normal. She does not know what was stolen from her.”

I stole a glance at Queen Lisandra. She had set her fork down with deliberate calm, but I could see it, the anger, the frustration, boiling just beneath the surface. Her fingers twitched as if fighting to stay composed. But her eyes betrayed her, flickering with emotions she kept tightly locked away.

“If you can sense the balance of magic,” Lisandra said, her voice measured, “then you must know where the magic is located. We are running out of time, and the curse…”

Vanya cut her off sharply, her voice a lash of authority. “You will not speak of the curse again, Queen Lisandra. Doing so could result in locking the curse forever.”

The sudden reprimand stunned us all. Lisandra’s eyes flashed with something fierce, but she held her tongue, sitting straighter in her chair. I felt the nerves in the room crackle like a taut rope.

“It is written in the stars,” Vanya continued, her tone softening just slightly but no less resolute. “I know the princess exists, and I know she still holds her magic. That is all I can tell you.”

There was finality in her words, and it was clear no amount of pressing would draw more from her. I leaned back in my chair, my mind racing. The princess was out there, somewhere, and she had magic. But Vanya’s refusal to speak of the curse worried me. What did she know that she wasn’t telling us? What part of this twisted puzzle were we still missing?

Lisandra sat in silence, her fists clenched on the table, but she nodded slowly. She knew, just as I did, that this was the only lead we had. Even if it wasn’t much to go on, it was something.

Lisandra’s patience was wearing thin, and I could see it in the tight set of her jaw and the way her fingers drummed restlessly on the table. “If you do not know where my daughter is,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, “then how can you possibly help us?”

Vanya remained completely unfazed by Lisandra’s growing frustration. She leaned back in her chair, her calm gaze unwavering. “I do know where your daughter is,” she said softly, “but you cannot find her, no matter how hard you search.”

Lisandra stiffened, the composure she had fought to maintain starting to crack. “What does that even mean?” she demanded, but Vanya simply raised a hand, halting the outburst before it could grow. There was something about the way she moved, deliberate, commanding, that kept us all in check.

Her eyes shifted from Lisandra to the rest of us, settling on each one for a moment before she spoke again. “There is a question none of you have asked yet. Why am I willing to help you at all?”

I felt the tension in the room deepen. It was true. We had been so focused on finding the princess and breaking the curse that we never stopped to wonder what Vanya’s stake in all this really was. She didn’t owe us anything, so why was she helping?

Vanya’s next words sent a shock through the room, as if she had dropped a stone into still water. “Eldra,” she said quietly, “grew up here in Ishwan. She is my daughter.”

The revelation hit Lisandra hard. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, I thought she might leap out of her chair. “What?”

Vanya nodded, her expression unchanged. “Disowned,” she continued, her voice steady but with an undercurrent of something deeper, regret, perhaps, or sorrow. “But my daughter nonetheless.”

The room was silent for several long moments. Eldra, the witch who had cursed Avaloria, who had stolen Lisandra’s daughter, was Vanya’s own child. The connection was too much to comprehend all at once, but there it was clear as day.

“In this place,” Vanya continued, her voice a little softer now, “we hold many ancient scrolls that speak of magic and how it can be used. Most of what we study is benign, ways to heal or protect, small things that keep the balance. But some of the magic, some of what is recorded, is dangerous.”

Her gaze shifted to the open windows where the sun filtered in, casting long shadows. “Magic simply is. It exists, and it can be used for almost anything. But there are practices that were forbidden long ago, deemed too risky to the balance of magic itself.”

Lisandra, still trying to process everything, leaned forward, her frustration momentarily giving way to curiosity. “And Eldra, she found these forbidden practices?”

Vanya nodded. “She did. And she wielded them. That is why I disowned her and cast her out of Ishwan.”

I felt a chill run down my spine. Eldra’s power all began here. And now, the woman sitting across from us, the very person who claimed to be helping us, was tied to it all in ways we hadn’t imagined.

Lisandra’s face was a mask of barely contained fury, but she spoke carefully. “If you know so much, then why do you allow this curse to continue? Why haven’t you stopped her?”

Vanya’s eyes turned distant, as if seeing something far beyond the room we sat in. “Because,” she said quietly, “Eldra is beyond my reach. Only your child, the princess, can stop what has been set in motion.”

Lisandra stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the stone floor, the sound sharp and jarring. I could feel the heat of her anger radiating across the room, and I could not blame her. We had been led here with the promise of answers, only to be met with more cryptic half-truths.

“You say you know where my daughter is but cannot tell me,” Lisandra spat, her voice trembling with barely restrained fury. “You tell me my daughter is the only person who can stop Eldra, yet you speak in riddles, woman. We are leaving.”

I half expected Lisandra to storm out of the room right then and there, her rage taking over completely. But before she could move, Vanya sighed, the sound heavy with weariness. It was a sound that seemed to carry the burdens of years.

“Sit. Please,” Vanya said, her voice softer now but with an authority that gave us pause. Even Lisandra hesitated, though the fire still smoldered in her eyes. “There is more you need to be aware of.”

Lisandra glared at her, but after a tense moment, she slowly lowered herself back into her chair. None of us spoke the questions we were all too afraid to ask.

Vanya folded her hands on the table, her gaze fixed on Lisandra. “The forbidden magic that Eldra discovered... it was the ability to siphon magic from others. It is a rare and dangerous art, one that was forbidden for a reason. None of us here in Ishwan are as powerful as you or a king. But Eldra, she was never satisfied with what she had. She always wanted more.”

A chill ran through me as Vanya spoke. The thought of Eldra stealing magic, draining it from others... it made my skin crawl. Eira shifted uncomfortably beside me, her earlier cheerfulness long gone.

“Eldra siphoned magic from numerous women here before we could stop her,” Vanya continued, her voice steady but filled with a quiet bitterness. “She grew stronger, more dangerous, with each life she touched. I had just enough magic left to cast her out and create a seal that blocks her from ever returning to this place.”

For a moment, there was silence. Lisandra’s anger had not dissipated, but there was something else in her expression now, a deep, simmering pain that she was struggling to hide.

“Why didn’t you stop her sooner?” Lisandra’s voice was low, barely more than a whisper, but the question was sharp. “If you knew what she was doing, why did you let it get so far?”

Vanya’s gaze dropped to the table, and for the first time, I saw something like regret in her eyes. “Because she is my daughter. And for far too long, I believed I could save her. I thought I could bring her back from the darkness she was falling into. But I was wrong.” Her voice broke slightly, the only crack in her otherwise calm demeanor. “By the time I realized what she had become, it was too late.”

The room felt colder after that. None of us spoke. I glanced at Lisandra, who was staring hard at Vanya, her lips pressed into a thin line. She had always been strong, always composed, but I could see how deeply this was affecting her.

Vanya straightened, her expression hardening once more. “You came here for answers, and I have given you what I can. Eldra cannot return to Ishwan, but she has grown powerful enough that she no longer needs to. If you want to stop her, you need your daughter. But finding her will be the hardest, most dangerous part of your journey.”

Lisandra’s hands clenched into fists on the table, her knuckles white. I could see the conflict raging within her, the desperate need for action clashing with the frustration of having no clear path forward.

“And if we find her?” I asked, my voice breaking the tense silence. “If we find the princess, will she even be able to stop Eldra?”

Vanya’s gaze shifted to me, her expression unreadable. “That is a question only the princess herself can answer. But you must be prepared, because even if you find her, even if she has the magic... the cost of using it may be higher than you are willing to pay.”

I could not shake the feeling that we were walking into something far darker than we had anticipated. And no matter how hard I tried, I could not shake the gnawing fear that we might not make it out. Oddly, I was okay with that.

Lisandra stood, her voice cutting through the thick silence. “We will take our leave then. If you cannot give us guidance as to where to go, then we will continue searching. The people of Avaloria are suffering and dying. My daughter can restore the kingdom. That is the most important thing.”

Her words were cold, decisive. But I could see it, the way her shoulders trembled ever so slightly, the way her hands clenched into fists at her sides. There was more than royal duty driving her. There was a mother's desperation, a rawness that even her queenly composure could not fully hide.

Vanya reached out, gently taking Lisandra's hand. The simple gesture seemed to still the air around us, drawing all attention to the two women, one a queen, the other a mother whose own daughter had been lost to the shadows.

“I lost my daughter to the darkness within her,” Vanya said softly, her voice thick with the emotion of her own pain. “I know what you have gone through. You have never held your daughter. You have mourned her deeply every day she was gone, even though you did not truly know her. You speak as a queen, but you are also a mother. A mother who has yet to truly mourn.”

Lisandra’s breath caught in her throat. I saw the change in her instantly, the rigid strength she had been holding onto for so long crumbled in an instant. Her eyes widened, and for the first time, I saw a crack in her armor. A deep, painful crack that had been waiting to break open.

“No...” Lisandra whispered, shaking her head as if she could somehow will Vanya’s words away. “No... I…” But the words caught, and her voice broke.

And then, the flood came.

Lisandra’s face contorted with a pain that was too much for her to hold back any longer. Her legs seemed to give way beneath her, and she sank to her knees, her hands trembling as they covered her face. A choked sob escaped her, raw and guttural, like a sound torn from the deepest part of her soul.

“I... I could not protect her,” she wept, her voice breaking with each word. “I never got to hold her... I never got to love her... to teach her, to nurture her. She was taken from me before I could even be her mother.”

I had never seen Lisandra like this. Always so regal, so controlled. But here, in this moment, she was not a queen. She was a mother drowning in the grief she had held back for so many years, and it broke her

“I failed her!” she cried out, her voice echoing in the quiet room. Tears poured down her face in rivers, and her entire body shook as the reality of her loss finally, truly, crashed down on her.

I stood there, frozen, unsure of what to do, of what to say. Eira was beside me, her usual lightheartedness gone as she watched the scene unfold with wide, solemn eyes.

Vanya knelt beside Lisandra, her hands resting gently on the queen’s shoulders. “You have not failed her,” she whispered. “You were powerless to stop what happened. But you are not powerless now. There is still hope. You can still save her.”

Lisandra’s sobs continued, quieter now but no less heart-wrenching. She clutched at Vanya’s hands like a lifeline, like those words were the only thing keeping her from sinking deeper into despair.

“I... I just want my daughter back,” Lisandra choked out between her sobs. “I want to save her. I want to hold her. I do not care about the kingdom, I just want... her.”

Vanya nodded slowly, her voice soft, yet filled with a quiet strength. “Then you will find her. And when you do, you will not just be a queen seeking to restore her kingdom. You will be a mother, finally reunited with her child.”

The room was silent except for Lisandra’s weeping.

I felt something stir within me as I watched her.  I understood that this was more than just a quest to save Avaloria. This was about a mother reclaiming the love she had been denied for far too long. This was something I needed to do. I vowed silently to myself that I would help her find her daughter. No matter what it took. No matter the cost.

We could not fail her. Not now. Not after all she had already lost.

Lisandra slowly rose to her feet, wiping her tear-streaked face with the back of her hand. Her sorrow seemed to linger in the air for a moment longer, but she shook it off with a sharp breath, straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin. The regal determination that had faltered moments before was now firmly back in place.

She was the queen again.

I watched her with a mix of awe and understanding. The depth of her grief was still there, hidden beneath that mask of royal composure, but she would not let it show. Not now. Not in front of us.

Vanya, as if sensing Lisandra’s resolve, stepped forward. Her voice cut through the silence, calm and measured. “Queen Lisandra.”

Lisandra paused, glancing at the old woman.

“I need to warn you about Eldra,” Vanya continued, her tone carrying the same weight as her earlier words. “She has grown stronger since she took your daughter. Much stronger. She now controls the northern kingdom of Rylos.”

Lisandra’s eyes narrowed. “I have every intention of confronting Eldra.”

Vanya’s gaze sharpened, her voice dropping lower as she held the queen's gaze. “You cannot defeat her,” she said bluntly. “So do not try.”

I felt a chill run down my spine at the way Vanya spoke of Eldra, this wasn’t just a warning. It was a statement of fact. Lisandra might have been one of the most powerful magic users in Avaloria, but whatever Eldra had become... she was something beyond even that.

Lisandra’s jaw tightened, but she nodded slowly. “I understand.”

Vanya’s gaze softened ever so slightly. “I will provide you with supplies for your journey,” she said. “And I pray you will find your daughter before it is too late.”

Lisandra gave a single, resolute nod. “Thank you.”

Without another word, she turned and strode towards the exit, her royal composure fully restored. I could feel the stress radiating off her in waves, but she didn’t look back, didn’t hesitate. The rest of us followed in silence.

We made our way down the stone steps in a quiet procession, the only sound the rhythmic thudding of our boots against the slick rock steps. No one spoke. Not Eira, not me, not even the usually chatty members of our team. There was a sense of finality, as if Vanya’s warning had sunk deep into our bones.

At the bottom of the steps, a small boat waited for us, loaded with provisions. The same boatman who had brought us here stood silently beside it, his expression unreadable as he watched us approach.

The girl that had served us earlier was there and she blushed as she approached Eira. “You are welcome to stay, beautiful one.”

Eira smiled and nodded. “That might be nice, but I need to see this through. What is your name?”

“Miala. And, I heard the others say your name, Eira. Go with peace, and I pray you come back here soon.”

Eira nodded, bit her lower lip in a way I had never seen her do before and pulled some stray hair behind her ear.

I sighed, feeling like I had witnessed the moment that Eira found her princess. It hurt deeply, so I shifted my gaze to Lisandra. I wondered what thoughts were going through her mind now, but her face was as still and unreadable as stone. She walked straight to the boat, pausing only for a moment to glance back at the island, at Vanya standing high on the steps, watching us leave. Then, with a final nod, she stepped onto the boat.

One by one, we followed.

The boat rocked gently as we settled in, and the man pushed off from the dock without a word. The island of Ishwan slowly began to recede into the distance, its towering cliffs and stone steps becoming mere silhouettes against the horizon.

I sat silently, staring out at the water, my thoughts racing. Eldra controlled the northern kingdom. She was stronger than ever. And we had to face her. But how? If Lisandra couldn’t defeat her, then what hope did the rest of us have? A kingdom led by a powerful dark witch against five broken souls.

 

***

 

We sat together at the inn in Ishwan-dek, the worn wooden table between us laden with food and drink, though none of us seemed particularly interested in eating. The heaviness of the day's revelations hung over the group, each of us lost in our own thoughts. The dim lighting cast shadows across the room, and the low hum of quiet conversation filled the space, but my attention was elsewhere.

As usual, Eira drew more than her fair share of stares. Even in a place like this, so close to the all-female stronghold of Ishwan, her beauty had a way of commanding attention. I could feel the eyes of several men lingering on her, but none of them dared to approach. Perhaps they knew better. Or maybe they sensed the inner strength she had, but more likely it was that women were far more respected here.

I glanced around the table, my gaze sweeping over each member of our team before settling on Eira once more. She sat there, perfectly at ease, almost as if she were completely unaware of the attention she garnered. Or maybe she just didn’t care. The simple elegance of her movements, the way she turned her head and how her hair slid effortlessly over her shoulders... there was a natural grace about her, a kind of effortless beauty that made it impossible not to notice her.

And that was the problem.

I tore my eyes away, forcing myself to focus on the half-empty mug in front of me, but my thoughts stayed with her. How, in the middle of all this chaos, did she still have such a profound effect on me? It wasn’t just her beauty, though that was undeniable. It was something deeper. The way she carried herself, the way she seemed so completely at ease in a world that felt, at least to me, like it was constantly spinning out of control.

I clenched my jaw, willing the thoughts away, but the pain lingered. The same pain that had been there for as long as I could remember, gnawing at the edges of my mind, refusing to be ignored. The pain of feeling wrong, of being wrong. Of knowing that no matter what I did, no matter how much I wanted it, Eira would never see me the way I saw her. Not like she saw Miala.

Eira was everything I wasn’t. Confident. Beautiful. Complete. And here I was, sitting across from her, feeling like a hollow shell, like something had been ripped out of me before I even had the chance to figure out what it was.

I took a slow breath, trying to push the thoughts down, but they were relentless. There was nothing I could do about it. Nothing I could change. And that, more than anything, was what hurt the most. I could sit here, day after day, trying to be the person I was supposed to be, trying to fill the role that had been given to me, but it never felt right. It never felt like me. I was the wrong gear in a machine. Utterly broken.

And Eira? She would never know. She would never understand the pain that came with that. The deep, gnawing ache of being lost in my own skin. The knowledge that no matter how much I loved her, no matter how much I wanted to be the person she deserved, I couldn’t.

Because I wasn’t that person. I never had been and never would be.

I glanced up again, just in time to catch the glint in her eyes as she laughed at something Lisandra had said. Her smile was radiant, lighting up her whole face, and for a moment, I couldn’t help but smile too. Even if she would never know the truth, even if I could never be the person she deserved, I could still love her from a distance. I could still protect her, still be by her side.

Even if it hurt.

And God, did it hurt.

Lisandra spread a map across the table, smoothing out the creases with her hands. The muted flicker of the inn’s lantern light cast shadows over the parchment, making the lines and roads look almost alive. She traced a path with her finger, stopping at a spot near the western edge.

“We are here,” she said softly, her voice barely rising above the hum of the room. “We need to follow the main roads towards Rylos City. With horses, I estimate it will take us two days. We have enough supplies to camp for a few nights along the way.”

I glanced at the map, trying to focus on the route instead of being dragged into my own feelings. The journey wasn’t long, but it felt like it. Every step, every mile, brought us closer to Eldra and whatever awaited us in Rylos. The name of the city alone sent a chill through me.

Lisandra’s voice broke through my thoughts. “I need to confront Eldra,” she continued, her tone resolute, though I could still hear the undercurrent of emotion beneath it. “And I need to find out where my daughter is.”

Thorne, ever practical, leaned in, his brow furrowed as he asked the question we were all thinking. “Why did you not do this years ago?”

Lisandra didn’t flinch. Instead, she exhaled slowly, staring down at the map as if it held the answers to all the years of pain and searching. “I would have,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “If I had known where Eldra was. Even last year, my scouts could not find her. She remained hidden, always one step ahead of us, disappearing into the shadows.”

I watched Lisandra closely. Her face, normally so composed, seemed to tighten for a moment, as if the searching all those years haunted her.

“We hunted for years,” she continued, her voice steady again. “Years. And we heard nothing. No sign of her, no trace. It was as if she had vanished completely. Until now.”

I leaned back in my chair, the full gravity of what she was saying sinking in. For so long, Eldra had been an invisible enemy, lurking somewhere out of reach, and now... she was out there. Waiting for us. And Lisandra’s daughter, wherever she was, was somehow tied up in all of it.

Eira, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke, her voice cutting through the tension. “So, what changed? Why has she revealed herself now?”

Lisandra didn’t answer right away. She stared at the map for a moment longer, her fingers still resting on the path to Rylos. “If what Vanya said is true,” she said slowly, “then Eldra has taken control of Rylos. She is not hiding anymore. She has power now, enough to make herself known again. Enough to take the entire continent.”

Silence fell over the table. The implications of what Lisandra was saying were clear. Eldra wasn’t just hiding in the shadows anymore; she was building something. Strengthening herself. And if Vanya’s warning was anything to go by, confronting her wasn’t going to be as simple as just marching into Rylos and demanding answers.

 

***

 

The morning air was crisp and quiet as we rode out of Ishwan-dek. Hooves clattered against the stones, filling the silence with a steady, rhythmic beat, broken only by the occasional creak of leather or murmur of voices. Up ahead, Queen Lisandra and Eira rode side by side, speaking softly, their postures calm and regal.

I felt my gaze drawn to Eira without meaning to, as though she were a tether holding me in place. Her red hair shimmered in the light, each movement so natural, so effortless. It was painful, seeing her like that, knowing she could never be anything more than this impossible vision just out of reach.

“Caelan.”

I looked over to find Thorne riding alongside me, his eyes studying me with a familiar, tired understanding.

“You need to give up on Eira,” he said quietly. “You cannot keep living like this.”

I felt the words like a stab in my back, not because I hadn’t heard them before, but because a part of me knew he was right. And yet, there was another part of me, stronger and more stubborn, that couldn’t bear to let go. I wanted to tell Thorne to mind his own business, to leave me be. But what would be the point? He saw the way I looked at her.

So instead, I sighed, the sound was more descriptive than all the things I could have said. Thorne didn’t press me for more, and I was grateful.

My thoughts wandered, and with them came the familiar ache that had lived inside me for so long, festering and twisting. I had always told myself I would outgrow these feelings. That somehow, as I got older, as I learned more about who I was and what I wanted, I would stop feeling this way. But the years had only deepened the longing and confusion, weaving them into something inseparable from who I was. And it wasn’t just about Eira, it was about me, about who I was beneath all the masks I wore.

I knew I wasn’t good enough for her, and that she would never see me the way I wanted her to. But beyond that was a darker truth I couldn’t escape. A feeling that, no matter how I tried, I would never fit, never be enough. I was trapped in this body, with these feelings, and the dichotomy inside me, between what I felt and who I was, only seemed to grow stronger. It gnawed at me, a quiet, relentless despair that never fully left, lingering in every empty space, every moment of quiet.

The road stretched on ahead of us, winding into the distant hills. Eira’s laughter drifted back to us on the wind, and it was like salt on an open wound, stinging and sharp.

I forced myself to look away, to stare at the path before me and focus on anything but her.

 

***

 

The camp was quiet save for the crackling of the fire and the low murmur of voices. Eira and Queen Lisandra sat across from each other, laughing softly. They had grown close over the course of the day, sharing stories and smiles, and it was a closeness that somehow felt like another reminder of everything out of reach for me. Alric had gone off into the woods, foraging for herbs in the twilight, and I was left sparring with Thorne.

The sting of the blade against my side brought me back from my thoughts.

“Pay attention, Caelan.” Thorne’s tone was sharp, tempered with just a hint of concern. He watched me, his brow knit in that way he had when he was disappointed. I tried to shake it off, nodding as I gripped the hilt of my new sword, its weight still unfamiliar.

“Right. Sorry,” I muttered, readying myself for another round, but my heart wasn’t in it. I could feel my concentration slipping again, a dull ache settling over me.

Thorne sighed, letting his sword drop to his side. “That’s enough for today.” His voice softened. “Rest up. We’ll try again tomorrow.”

I nodded, murmuring my thanks, but as I turned away, I felt Eira’s eyes on me, watching, quiet and curious. I didn’t look back, not wanting to see the questions in her gaze. Instead, I left the camp and made my way into the woods, the soft crunch of leaves beneath my boots and the cool night air pressing against my skin.

I kept walking, letting the silence of the forest surround me, until I found a series of rocks jutting over a bluff that overlooked the valley below. The stars hung low in the sky, casting a faint glow over the land, and for a moment, I felt an overwhelming urge to keep walking, to take one more step that would plunge me to my death. Anything to just to feel something other than this ache that refused to let go.

I sat down heavily, my head falling into my hands. Every thought, every feeling that I had been pushing aside flooded over me, dragging me down. The isolation, the constant longing, the hollow place inside me that nothing seemed to fill. I was so tired of pretending, of carrying on as if everything was fine.

The thought crept in before I could push it away, slipping into my mind with a strange kind of calm. How easy it would be to end it, to just let go. No more pain, no more heartache. The quiet stretched out around me, almost comforting.

A gentle rustle sounded nearby, pulling me back, and I looked up to find Eira standing a few paces away. She didn’t speak, didn’t ask what I was doing there, or if I was all right. She just walked over, her steps soft, and sat down beside me. For a moment, neither of us said a word. The silence was somehow easy, like she understood without needing to ask.

Then, she leaned her head against my shoulder, her hair brushing against my neck. That small, simple touch was like an anchor, pulling me back from the edge. I closed my eyes, letting the warmth of her presence seep into me, and breathed deeply, feeling a bit of the darkness lift.

She didn’t need to say anything. Her being there was enough, a quiet reassurance that I wasn’t alone. And as we sat there, watching the stars blink into the night sky, I felt a momentary sliver of peace as she pulled me from the brink.

 

***

 

The forest had seemed peaceful, an unlikely haven amidst all the trouble that lay ahead. We had settled down in a small clearing, the canopy overhead casting a dappled shade as the afternoon sun filtered through. Just as we began to take our midday meal, Thorne’s head snapped up. His hand went instinctively to his sword, and his gaze locked on the dense brush at the edge of the clearing. We froze as his arm raised, fingers signaling for silence.

I felt the stillness, an eerie, unnatural quiet. No birds, no rustling leaves, just silence. I gripped my own sword tightly, heart pounding as tension crackled in the air. And then, in a heartbeat, all hell broke loose.

Arrows rained down on us. One struck me hard, lodging deep in my thigh, and I bit back a scream as pain seared through me. Men burst from the trees, charging with weapons drawn, and our once-peaceful clearing became a battleground.

Steel clashed as Thorne and Eira met the oncoming onslaught, their movements swift and deadly. Queen Lisandra and Alric were a force to be reckoned with, their magic blazing, sending men flying backward with bursts of energy or on fire. Eira fought beside Lisandra, her blade flashing in the dappled light as she deflected blows with a ferocity that took even our attackers by surprise. But there were too many, and they closed in, pushing us back, forcing me out of the clearing and further into the trees.

My wound slowed me down. I staggered, parrying a blow just in time, but another attacker appeared, his blade cutting into my side. The force of the strike sent me tumbling down a steep embankment, hitting the ground below with a bone-jarring thud.

I lay there, gasping, my vision blurring as blood poured from my wounds. I tried to summon magic, to tap into the power I had felt flickering within me before, but it slipped away like trying to capture the wind in my hand. Panic clawed at me, and I clenched my fists, focusing on the faces of those I cared for. They needed me. I couldn’t leave them to face this alone.

Footsteps crunched nearby, snapping twigs and dead leaves. I forced myself to stay still, barely breathing. Two men emerged from the shadows, their eyes on my sword lying just out of reach. One of them smirked, reaching down to pick it up, turning it in his hands as he examined it.

“Nice blade,” he muttered, a sneer twisting his lips. He glanced down at me, his companion moving closer, and they leveled the sword’s point against my neck.

In one last desperate act, I rolled towards them, pulling my dagger from its sheath and plunging it into the nearest man’s foot. He howled in pain, stumbling back, and I wrested my sword from the other’s grip, swinging upward with all the strength I had left.

Both men fell, and I dropped to my knees, breath hitching as exhaustion overtook me. My body was screaming, pain pulsing in time with my heartbeat, but I managed to drag myself to the nearest tree, slumping against it. My vision swam, and darkness began to close in around me.

But as I drifted into unconsciousness, a single thought remained, anchoring me through the pain, the others. I had to survive for them, somehow.

 

***

 

When I came to, the world was bathed in silver. The moon hung high above, casting a pale glow through the trees and illuminating the forest just enough for me to see the two lifeless forms near me. My head throbbed, and the dull ache in my side and thigh flared up with a vengeance the moment I tried to move. I clenched my teeth, stifling a groan, as I shifted and looked down. The splintered remains of the arrow stuck out of my thigh like some sickly branch, blood caked around the wound.

Swallowing back the wave of nausea, I gripped the arrow shaft. One hard yank, I told myself. One quick, brutal pull, and it would be over. My vision blurred as I braced myself, counting down. Three...two...one. I pulled, the pain ripping through me, so sharp and blinding that I nearly lost consciousness again. Stars swam in front of my eyes, and I forced myself to breathe, to stay grounded as the agony finally began to dull, receding to a deep, angry throb.

I needed to stop the bleeding. Crawling over to the bodies, I fumbled with my dagger, cutting long strips of cloth from their cloaks. They would do for makeshift bandages, rough as they were. I worked quickly, binding my thigh and side as best I could, barely aware of the dried blood on my hands or the slight tremor in my fingers. My body was weak, shaky from blood loss, but I forced myself to check their pockets, gathering what little supplies I could, a handful of coins, a small flask, and an extra knife.

My eyes trailed up the embankment to the clearing above. I had been pushed far from the others, isolated in the chaos of the fight, and a dark fear knotted in my chest at the thought of what I might find. With a painful grunt, I dragged myself upright, steadying against the nearest tree, my legs barely able to hold me. One agonizing step after another, I climbed back up, biting back curses with every jolt of pain as I forced myself forward.

When I finally reached the edge, the scene that lay before me sent a cold shiver through my veins. Bodies lay scattered across the clearing, but none were my friends. Eira, Thorne, Queen Lisandra, Alric, there was no trace of them, only the carnage of the men who had attacked us. They had vanished without a trace, leaving nothing behind but the scent of blood and the silence of the forest.

I was alone.

I stood there in the clearing, my breath catching as a glint of silver caught my eye beneath a scattering of leaves. Eira’s twin daggers. The sight of them twisted something in my chest, and for a moment, I could almost see her there, her teasing grin and fierce eyes alive with her usual fire. But now... She was gone. They all were. Only her weapons remained, a cruel echo in the quiet.

I forced my gaze down, gripping the daggers tightly. Limping back to the main road, I traced the rough path of churned dirt and hoofprints, all leading north. They had taken them alive, at least. That thought burned hot in my mind as I stumbled along, gritting my teeth against the pain that pulsed through my thigh with each step. I would follow this trail to the ends of the kingdom if I had to. They wouldn’t get away.

The miles passed in a haze, every step driven by a grim determination to close the distance, to find any sign of my friends. After what felt like an eternity, faint sounds reached my ears, a murmur of voices and the clank of armor, not far off the road. I slipped into the forest, moving as quietly as I could despite my injuries, until I reached a spot overlooking the crumbling remnants of an old ruin.

Peering through the underbrush, my heart seized. There, on their knees, were Eira, Thorne, Alric, and Queen Lisandra, bound and helpless, with ropes crackling faintly with an eerie glow that pulsed against Alric’s and Lisandra’s wrists, magic woven into their restraints. Guards stood like statues behind each of them, weapons at the ready.

Then, a figure stepped forward. A woman, her dark cloak and poised stance marking her as their leader. She surveyed them with an unsettling calm, the glint in her eye sharp as a dagger, like she was savoring her power over them. I ducked further into the shadows, jaw clenched, mind racing. I needed a plan, and fast, but every part of me wanted to charge in and put an end to this right then and there.

I had to get them out of this.

With disdain, the woman looked over my four companions. She turned to a large man on her left.

“There was a fifth! Where is he?!” She shouted.

The general winced in fear of the woman. “Dead, my Queen.”

My friends all stiffened but Eira growled and tried to stand and rush them. but one of the guards shoved her roughly back down, forcing her to her knees. Her defiance was unbreakable, a flash of fire against the hopelessness that wrapped around the clearing.

The woman’s mocking laughter echoed through the clearing, sending a cold shiver down my spine as I crouched, hidden in the shadows of the trees.

The woman retuned her gaze to Lisandra, taking deliberate steps until she was directly in front of her. “It’s over, Lisandra,” she said, each word laced with venom. “The blood oath is completed. Cedric’s reign was spared, you were healed, and your daughter…” Her lip curled in a cruel sneer. “Well, she belongs to me now.”

Lisandra’s voice was sharp, commanding even in her weakened state. “Where is she, Eldra?”

Eldra. The dark witch that started it all.

Eldra’s laugh was a chilling, hollow sound. “Oh, it’s so fitting, isn’t it, Lisandra?” she said. “Your beloved Cedric murdered my husband and my son, thinking it would end me. But now look at you, with only scraps of a kingdom left, clinging to the empty hope that somehow you can stop me.” Her eyes glinted with dark triumph. “Soon, your kingdom will be nothing but a memory.”

Lisandra’s composure cracked, and she screamed, raw and anguished, “Just give me my daughter back!”

Eldra’s cackle filled the empty ruins as she waved her hand dismissively. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

And then she turned, giving her general a nod. “Kill them all.”

In an instant, she vanished, a dark swirl of smoke dissolving where she had stood.

As I watched from the shadows, helpless and hidden, the emotions of what was about to happen crushed me. The general barked orders, and archers raised their bows, taking aim at the queen of Avaloria, Lisandra, proud and unbroken even on her knees. My hope, a flickering light I had clung to since I first set out with them, dimmed to nothing. In seconds, I would lose them all.

My gaze swept over each of them, capturing their faces as if I could somehow burn this moment into memory and carry them with me even as they slipped away.

Thorne, solid, unshakable Thorne, had been my mentor, my guide through the years. He had shown me what true loyalty meant. Alric, who was practically selflessness itself, had taught me to look beyond my own pain, my own fears, to understand that life had more to do with others than with self.

And then Queen Lisandra. I had spent so many years hating her, resenting the royal family for all they had failed to protect, all the promises broken. But now, after seeing the fierceness in her, her love for her people and for the daughter stolen from her, I could only admire her strength.

Then... there was Eira. My heart twisted painfully at the thought of her. She sat calm, unwavering even in the face of death, but her beauty, her grace, the fire within her, they were things that had made me want to be something more, something better, even if she never felt the same. Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes, and I swallowed hard, fighting down the despair threatening to tear me apart.

I steadied myself, hidden in the shadows, as I looked down at the blood that had pooled at my feet from my earlier wounds. My friends, my family, really, were kneeling, defenseless, at the mercy of Eldra’s general. They deserved a chance to live. I would rather die with them than watch their lives slip away.

Taking a deep breath, I ignored the stabbing pain in my side and thigh and surged forward, throwing one or Eira’s daggers and the knife from one of Eldra’s men at two guards behind Thorne and Eira. The blades found their marks, and the guards crumpled. Before anyone could react, I spun, drawing my sword and slicing through a guard behind Lisandra and Alric.

I pulled out Eira’s last dagger and tossed it toward her hands, then threw a sword toward Thorne. Eira scrambled for the dagger, her fingers just managing to grasp it. She twisted her wrists, cutting through her bindings in a single, swift motion. Thorne rose to his feet with the sword in his bound hands, shoving several of Eldra’s men aside as he lunged forward.

The general’s scream echoed through the ruins. “Archers! Fire!”

I didn’t think; I only moved. In a desperate leap, I threw himself in front of Lisandra, my body shielding her as the arrows flew. Pain exploded through me as the arrows struck, driving me to my knees, but I kept myself between the queen and the onslaught as arrow after arrow hit me. Through the haze, I saw Eira and Thorne fighting for their lives, for all of them.

It was then that I felt it. A jolt of raw energy surged through my veins, igniting every nerve ending in my body. I gasped, overwhelmed by the sheer power that erupted from within me, unfurling like a storm set loose. Eldra's men were flung from the ruins as if they were mere leaves caught in a tempest, their cries swallowed by the howling winds of my magic.

In that moment, a blinding flash of light enveloping me, consuming my very essence. I felt myself transforming. The weight of my old self peeled away like dead skin.

I fell forward, long blonde hair cascading around me, tumbling like sunlit silk before my eyes. I didn’t care. All I could feel was the warmth beneath me as I collapsed into the lap of Queen Lisandra. The world around me blurred, the edges softening into an ethereal haze.

As I lay there, Lisandra's bindings fell away, freed by the magic that had surged through me. Her gentle touch found my cheek, and I could feel the softness of her fingers as they brushed against my skin. “My daughter...” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “My Aeliana... You were here all this time.”

The world slipped away as I teetered on the edge of unconsciousness. As the darkness took me, I felt something I had never felt before. Peace. I was free. With a final shuddering breath, I surrendered to the darkness, cradled in the unwavering embrace of the queen.

 

***

 

I drifted in and out of consciousness, caught in a dreamlike state that felt both familiar and foreign. One moment, I was bouncing on a horse at a full trot, strong arms wrapped protectively around me, their warmth a lifeline in the chaos. The rhythmic thudding of hooves against the ground felt like a heartbeat, steady and reassuring.

Then, the scene shifted. I was suddenly engulfed in the bustle of a town, the air thick with sounds and smells. The clop of horses’ hooves echoed on cobblestones, mingling with the laughter of children and the shouts of merchants hawking their wares. I could almost taste the bread baking in a nearby stall, the sweet aroma pulling me from the depths of my hazy mind.

Another blink, and I was at the edge of a body of water. The soft lapping of waves against the shore lulled me further into a state of calm. I could feel the cool breeze brushing against my skin. But with each fleeting moment, the awareness of my surroundings slipped away, like grains of sand through my fingers.

Faces danced in and out of my vision, blurred and indistinct. I could not grasp who they were or what they meant to me. Confusion and exhaustion tugged at my consciousness, each pulse of energy draining me further. All I could cling to was a vague sense of warmth, a feeling that I was not alone in this journey, though the specifics eluded me.

 

***

 

As I began to emerge from the depths of unconsciousness, an overwhelming sensation washed over me, a connection to my magic that felt both strong and radiant. It surged through me, vibrant and alive, as if it had been awakened from a long slumber. My body felt lighter, free from the burdens of pain and injury. There was a profound sense of peace that enveloped me, so complete that I could almost believe I had slipped into death. There was no longer any hint of the dichotomy that had once plagued me; instead, I felt whole.

Slowly, I opened my eyes, and my gaze fell upon Queen Lisandra. She looked worn and tired, her face lined with worry and love. As our eyes met, her expression shifted, illuminating with a blend of relief and joy. She reached out, her hand trembling slightly as it brushed along my cheek.

“Aeliana... my daughter... my beautiful, beautiful girl...”

Her words struck me with an unfamiliar force, and instinctively, I sat up, confusion spilling from my lips. “Who are you talking to?”

As I spoke, a strange realization began to settle over me. My voice was different, softer, laced with a gentle tone that sent a ripple of awareness through me. I hesitated, glancing down, and the sight that greeted me was shocking. Long strands of blonde hair cascaded around my shoulders.

My breath caught in my throat as I looked down further. I was clad in a flowing gown, its fabric shimmering softly in the light, and I felt the unmistakable shape of breasts pressing against the material, an alien sensation that both thrilled and terrified me.

I inhaled sharply, the air filling my lungs like a revelation. Panic surged within me, followed by an equally overwhelming curiosity. My mind raced, grappling with the reality of what I was witnessing. What had happened to me?

I blinked, squeezed my eyes firmly shut, then opened them again. I was sitting in a comfortable bed, the soft linens felt silky smooth against my skin. Queen Lisandra stood nearby, her expression a mix of hope and trepidation. As I pushed myself up further, she instinctively took a step back, her eyes wide as if she were afraid to disturb this fragile moment.

My gaze darted around the room, and I caught sight of my hands, delicate and slender. I pulled long strands of my blonde hair forward, letting them fall like ribbons before my eyes. It was beautiful, the kind of hair that seemed to catch the light in a thousand different ways. Yet as I marveled at it, a creeping sense of unease began to settle within me. The truth dawned, heavy and undeniable: I was now someone else.

Questions bubbled to the surface, spilling from my lips like water from a broken dam. “What happened? Who am I? Eira? What happened to Eira? Thorne... Alric? My wounds... I was dying... Where am I?”

Each question tumbled over the next, frantic and disordered, my heart racing as the enormity of the situation closed in on me.

Lisandra stepped closer, her hands reaching out to take mine in a gentle grip. The warmth of her touch sent a shiver through me, pausing my wild thoughts and questions mid-flight. I felt the connection between us, a bond that transcended the chaos swirling in my mind.

She settled on the edge of the bed. “Let me begin by saying you, Eira, Thorne, and Alric are safe.”

Relief filled me with her words. Everyone was safe and well, but the storm of confusion remained. I squeezed her hands tightly, searching her eyes for answers. “Safe? But what happened? Why… I’m a woman?”

The queen hesitated for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “You have undergone a transformation, Aeliana. A curse that bound you your entire life has been broken. You are... you are no longer the person you were. You are and always were my daughter. Aeliana. Hidden from me by a curse Eldra had placed upon you at your birth.”

Her words felt like a spell in themselves, making it hard to breathe. “Your daughter?” I echoed, struggling to comprehend the enormity of it all. “I don’t understand.”

“Perhaps it is best if I explain everything, from the beginning.” Lisandra's voice was steady, a calming presence amidst my swirling confusion. As she spoke, I clung to her words, hoping they would illuminate the shadows in my mind and heart.

I sat there, gripping the edges of the soft bedding. The sensations of my transformed body were overwhelming. I felt light, almost ethereal, as if I might float away at any moment.

Lisandra began, her voice steady yet laced with emotion. “Eldra was called to heal me when I was pregnant with you. But she had her own agenda. She stole King Cedric’s magic, and a few months later, you were born. However, under the glamor of my midwife, she took you from us.” Her gaze flickered away for a moment, lost in the memory, before she continued. “She placed a curse on you, saying you would never know who you were and that unless you made a sacrifice of pure heart before coming of age, the curse would remain unbroken. The curse locked away your magic and transformed you. Eldra must have placed you as an orphaned baby boy in Avaloria. Who knows what was in that spiteful woman’s head. But I feel she transformed you as she knew we would be looking for a girl and placing you in Avaloria, so close to us, your home, must have given her some twisted joy.”

My breath caught in my throat as the truth of her words settled over me. I had lived a life steeped in pain and confusion, never understanding why I felt different, why I always felt like a stranger in my own skin.

Lisandra continued, she looked deep into my eyes, her expression earnest. “But let me ask you a question, Aeliana. Did you know? Did you know you were my daughter?”

I played with the edges of my gown, the fabric feeling soft and rich against my fingertips. Did I know? My mind swirled with memories of my past life, flashes of loneliness, of being different, of an aching sense of incompleteness. But none of it had felt connected to the notion of being a daughter, let alone the daughter of a queen.

“I didn’t know,” I finally replied, my voice barely above a whisper. The truth stung as it slipped from my lips. “I only felt lost, a shadow drifting through a world that never felt like mine. I felt I was always meant to be someone else. To be…” I glanced down at myself, “a woman. I felt so much shame and pain.”

Lisandra’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, and I could see the pain etched on her face. “I’m so sorry you had to live your life that way. In some ways, your pain and loss were like my own. I never got to hold you. Every day since you were born, I hoped to find you. A part of me went missing that day Eldra took you from me. I mourned not being there to raise you, to care for you. I always wondered where you were, what you were like.” She bowed her head as tears fell. “And I knew it was all our fault.”

Lisandra calmed herself. “This is a new beginning for you, Aeliana. For us. You are no longer bound by the curse, and your magic is yours to claim.”

Magic. The very thought sent shivers down my spine. It felt like an ember flickering within me, waiting to be fanned into flame.

“What does this all mean?” I asked, my heart pounding as I glanced down at myself again. “What have I become?”

Lisandra reached out, brushing her fingers against my cheek with a gentleness that felt like home. “You are powerful beyond measure, my daughter. With time, you will learn to harness it. But first, you must embrace who you are and all that you were meant to be.”

I nodded slowly. It was terrifying yet exhilarating. I was Aeliana now, a woman, a magic wielder. And as I looked into my mother’s eyes, I realized I would not face it alone.

“What happened in the ruins? How and why did I transform? Did Eldra release the curse on me?” I asked, my voice trembling.

Lisandra, Mother’s expression shifted as she choked out the words, the memory seemed to cause strong emotions in her. “Earlier, in the forest clearing, we were overwhelmed by Eldra's men. Your friends... they are so courageous and brave. They fought hard, but the numbers were against us. They bound Alric and me with magic-blocking bindings.

“The general of Eldra’s army sent two men to find you,” she continued, her voice wavering. “But one of his men said you were already dead. We were devastated by this news. They took us to the ruins. I do not know how long you were there, but then you... you ran out of the forest. And... and you dove in front of me to protect me from the arrows.”

I remembered that part clearly. “What happened then?”

Lisandra's eyes shone with tears as she recounted the moment. “You were hit... half a dozen times at least. You shielded me from every arrow. You, Caelan, shielded the very person that had ignored your plight and was oblivious to your struggle. As I watched the life retreat from your eyes, the curse broke. Your magic exploded out of you.” She paused, the awe and disbelief evident in her expression. “Eldra's men all perished. When I looked down, I could not believe my eyes. There you were, my daughter, healed by your magic but you were completely spent.”

Lisandra continued, her voice steadying. “We didn’t dally. We grabbed the horses and raced back here, to the Island of Ishwan. You have been unconscious for three days.”

Three days. I had been out of touch with everything, my world reduced to unconsciousness. “And now?” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “What happens now?”

Lisandra took a deep breath, her gaze steady and filled with determination. “Now, we begin anew. You are no longer bound by Eldra’s curse, Aeliana. You are free to embrace who you are and to claim your magic. But we must remain vigilant. Eldra will not let go of her ambitions easily. She is still a threat to you, your friends, and Avaloria.”

I nodded in understanding, but it would not be like I could just instantly become the savior. “I… I’ll need time to adapt, but I will learn to control my magic, to fight for my friends, for you.” I felt the first stirring of my power beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed.

Lisandra’s face broke into a soft smile, pride shimmering in her eyes. “That’s the spirit, my daughter. Together, we will reclaim your kingdom and bring peace and prosperity to our people.”

Her tone shifted again, this time far more somber. “You have every right to hate me, Aeliana. When I first met you, I thought you were a criminal. I could not have been more wrong about you and your friends. You are courageous. I have heard your friends tell me about your life, how you struggled to survive, how Thorne found you trying to steal from him, how you fought to free yourself from the thieves’ guild. You could have so easily become the criminal I thought you first were, but you didn’t. You have a heart for justice.”

I swallowed, not knowing what to say.

Lisandra, my mother, continued. “You have every right to walk away. This is not your fight. I only ask one thing of you.” Her voice cracked. “Could you call me mother. Just once? Let me hold you?”

I stood, feeling the oddness of my new body shift differently. I always felt I should have been born female, and apparently, I had. I felt a bond between Lisandra and me that transcended our awkward history. I stepped forward, fell to my knees and wrapped my arms around her waist. My voice broke with emotions as tears fell from my face. “Mother.”

Mother fell to her knees and wrapped her arms around me, holding me tight. Her touch banishing every feeling I ever had of being alone in the world.

As Mother and I stood and pulled away from our embrace, I could feel the warmth of her presence lingering. I took a moment to gather my thoughts, grappling with the enormity of my situation.

She turned towards the door. “I’m here if you need me, but I thought you might want some time to yourself.”

 

“Wait,” I called, my voice catching her attention. She turned, hope illuminating her tired features. “You believe Eldra will seek to destroy Avaloria?”

She nodded firmly. “I know it for certain, Aeliana.”

A chill ran down my spine as I nodded in response. “I feel it, Mother. I know nothing about being a daughter, but I know I am yours. I cannot walk away. Not from the people of Avaloria. If you think I can help, then I will do whatever is needed of me.”

Lisandra's eyes glistened with pride and affection as she moved toward me again, wrapping me in another embrace. “Then, my daughter, my Aeliana, Princess of Avaloria, we need to get you ready.”

“Princess?” I questioned, the word rolling off my tongue with an unfamiliar taste.

She smiled, a warmth spreading across her features. “It is exactly what you are.”

I swallowed hard, my heart racing at the thought.

“I know it is a lot to absorb. Take your time. There is a bath in the other room and some clothing. Come join us when you are ready,” she said, turning to leave.

As she reached the door, a flicker of doubt flickered in my mind. “I am not sure I am ready to be a princess. Can’t I just be your daughter first?”

Mother paused, her smile returning, soft and reassuring. “We will talk about it,” she replied, and I could see the understanding in her gaze.

As I stood alone in the room, the soft sound of the door closing behind Mother, I was suddenly very aware of the remarkable changes I had gone through. I glanced down at myself, marveling at the transformation that had taken place. I felt right for the first time in my life. It was as if a missing piece had finally clicked into place. But with that clarity came a flood of doubts. What would Thorne and Alric think of me now? A young woman? The daughter of the queen? A princess?

My thoughts quickly shifted to Eira. The fear of her opinion was more frightening than anything else I could imagine. Would she see me as someone different? Someone unworthy of the bond we had shared? All I knew for certain was that nothing had changed within me. I still loved Eira deeply, perhaps even more than before.

Compelled by a mix of curiosity and trepidation, I moved toward the bathroom, where a tall mirror beckoned me. As I stepped closer, I felt my breath catch in my throat. I was mesmerized by what I saw in the reflection.

The mirror revealed a vision of exquisite beauty. My long blonde hair cascaded around my shoulders in silky waves, catching the light like spun gold. Each strand seemed to shimmer, framing a face that was both delicate and strong. My deep blue eyes sparkled with a vitality I had never known, the color reminiscent of the clearest ocean depths. They held a certain fierceness, a reminder of the spirit that resided within me.

I examined my figure, a trim and athletic build that spoke of strength and agility, yet there was a curvy softness to my form that added an allure I had not anticipated. I turned slightly to see the contours of my waist, the gentle curve of my hips, attributes that felt foreign but something I had admired, especially on Eira.

Every detail seemed to echo my newfound identity. I was no longer the orphaned boy who had wandered through life in search of belonging; I was Aeliana, a name that resonated with power and purpose. The image before me radiated not just beauty, but the promise of potential, of a life where I could stand tall and fight for those I loved.

Yet, amidst the wonder, a flicker of fear ignited. Would this new form change how others saw me? Would they still respect the person I had been and the princess I was becoming?

With resolve, I straightened my posture, standing proud before my reflection. I would not shy away from this new identity. It was what was calling to me all my life. I was Aeliana, and I would embrace every aspect of who I had become, regardless of how others perceived me, although I knew that would be difficult at times.

Taking a deep breath, I turned from the mirror, dropped my clothes onto the floor, and stepped into the hot bath.

 

***

 

I stepped from the bath, the steam clinging to me like a soft veil, reluctant to let me go. The cool marble floors beneath my feet were a sharp contrast to the warmth still lingering on my skin. I took a moment to absorb the quiet around me, the scent of lavender and rosewater still drifting in the air, settling into the space like a comforting whisper.

But soon, my attention was drawn to the mirror across the room, where my reflection caught my gaze. For a moment, I simply stood there, frozen, as I watched the naked woman staring back at me.

Her face, my face, was unfamiliar, yet there was something undeniably present, as if I had always known her. My features were sharp and refined, the kind of elegance I never thought I could possess. My skin seemed almost luminous, my eyes deeper, holding something more than I ever realized. There was no doubt about it now: I was no longer Caelan. I was Aeliana.

I drew in a breath and straightened instinctively, surprised by how naturally my shoulders aligned, how poised I appeared. It felt as if this body, this form, had been made to stand tall, to draw the attention of a room, to command it.

As I observed myself further, something else became clear, something that had been hiding beneath the surface all along. I saw Queen Lisandra in my features. The high cheekbones, the curve of my jaw, the fullness of my lips, it was all there. I was her daughter, unmistakably, and for the first time, I saw the truth without question.

This was me now. I was the lost princess of Avaloria.

I turned toward the clothing laid out on the table, a beautiful gown and a travel outfit. The gown, with its soft fabrics and intricate embroidery, seemed to call to me. It was everything a princess should wear, an unspoken command of elegance and power. The travel outfit, practical and designed for movement, caught my eye as well, leather breeches, a tunic, perfect for the fight I was meant to continue.

But I couldn’t bring myself to choose the travel outfit. Part of my decision was that I was still so unsure about myself. I fingered the soft silk of the gown, tracing the fine threads, feeling its softness against my fingertips. It was so delicate, too delicate, but something in me still longed for it. It was the culmination of all my desires from my entire life. I wanted to experience being beautiful, being comfortable in my own skin.

I had been a fighter once, the one who wielded blades. Could I still be that in this body? Could I still fight? I was smaller than I had been. Weaker.

The thoughts lingered, but I didn’t let them hold me for long. Instead, I let the dress slip over my head, the fabric flowing down my body, fitting against me like it had always belonged. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to wear it, it felt right, in a way I couldn’t explain, but there was something in me that struggled.

The fear wasn’t in the dress itself. It was in the thought of how others would see me.

Especially Eira.

Would she look at me and still see Caelan, the one who was never truly accepted? Or would she see only the princess, distant and removed from everything we had shared? Would she recognize the woman I saw in the mirror, or would she always see the boy I had been?

I glanced at myself one more time, a stranger and yet not. I was Aeliana now, and I couldn’t tell if I was ready to be her, to step into this life and leave everything I had known behind. But I had no choice. This was my new reality.

And it was time I started accepting it.

The door to my room creaked softly as I pushed it open, hesitating at the threshold. The hallway beyond felt somewhat intimidating. I stood there for a moment, unsure whether I was ready to face the world outside the confines of my room. The quiet seemed suffocating, like an invisible pressure in the air, and I wasn’t certain I was prepared to meet it.

But I could not hide forever.

I listened carefully, straining to catch any sounds that might tell me where the others were, where they might be. And then, faint but unmistakable, Thorne’s deep voice echoed from the left, a steady rumble of words too low for me to make out clearly. My feet moved of their own accord, leading me toward the sound, as if something inside me knew it was time.

An open archway came into view, and I slowed, my heart beginning to race. I stopped just short of stepping through, lingering at the edge, unsure. I wanted to see them, to hear their voices, but I was so afraid of their reactions. Would they see me, really see me, and still accept who I was? Or would the sight of the princess, Aeliana, be too much for them? Would they see Caelan, the orphan, the young man, or would they accept who I now was?

I breathed in deeply, steeling myself, but as I leaned closer, I could hear fragments of their conversation.

“...How is she doing?” Thorne’s voice, full of concern but edged with a quiet strength.

I could almost see him, standing tall, his broad form filling the space with his presence. I clung to his voice as a lifeline, something familiar.

Mother’s response followed, her tone softer, but still strong, “It’s both a shock and not, in a way. Aeliana has always been there, underneath... It was the nature of the curse that bound her.”

Alric spoke, his voice deep with the wisdom he always carried. “We will need to support Aeliana through this. If I understand the nature of the curse and the magic involved, Caelan wasn’t his real form. It was a type of glamor, but a physical one, something that concealed who Aeliana always was. She was buried beneath it.”

A surge of warmth flushed through me, and for the first time since the transformation, I felt something like hope that things would work out stir inside. To hear them speak of me, truly speak of me as Aeliana, as the person I had always been, it was more than I had dared to hope for.

It was enough. Enough for me to push away the uncertainty that had gripped me since my awakening.

With a deep breath, I stepped into the archway, the soft rustle of my dress the only sound as I moved into the room. I had to see them. I had to face them, and I had to know if they could accept me for who I was now.

They turned as I entered, their gazes sweeping over me, but there was no judgment in their eyes. No hesitation. Just... acceptance. Thorne gave a slight nod, his expression unreadable but steady. Mother’s eyes showed only compassion and love, and she stepped forward, her presence commanding but comforting all at once. Alric gave me a small smile, the kind that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

They were here. They had my back. But where was Eira?

I was about to ask where Eira was when Thorne and Alric suddenly dropped to one knee before me, their heads bowed in perfect unison. The gesture was fluid and formal, the kind one might see in front of a royal court. For a moment, I froze, staring at them, unable to process what I was seeing.

This was wrong. These were the people who had fought beside me, who had seen me at my weakest and stood with me through it all. They were my friends. I stepped forward, a hand half-raised in protest.

“Do not ever bow to me,” I said, my voice firmer than I expected. “You are my friends. That is what matters to me. I won’t have you bowing like I am something... different.”

Thorne’s gaze lifted, his expression thoughtful, and Alric offered a small smile as he rose to his feet, but before I could press them further, Mother’s voice cut through the moment.

“Aeliana, you are the princess of Avaloria,” she said gently but firmly. “This is how people will respond to you now. It is not a choice; it is simply who you are.”

I felt the warmth of her words, but they also carried a reminder of my new role and responsibilities. I knew what she said was true. I was Avaloria’s lost princess, the daughter of a queen, and a name that was supposed to be revered, but I was also... not. I was still Caelan, or perhaps the ghost of who Caelan had been, and I had no idea what it meant to be a princess, much less a rightful one.

I swallowed the confusion, letting it twist and churn inside, and forced myself to nod. “Fine,” I said, the word sounding almost defiant. “But I won’t accept it from any of you. You are my family... my friends. You will not bow to me.”

Thorne gave a short, solemn nod, and Alric’s gaze softened as he watched me, a flicker of something like pride in his eyes. But I had no time to dwell on it. My heart ached with a different question, one that felt far more urgent.

“Where is Eira?” I asked, my voice betraying my anxiety. I needed to see her, to know that she was still here. After everything, she was the one person who made me feel... real.

Mother’s expression shifted, and she hesitated, glancing toward Thorne and Alric as if seeking their silent agreement. A strange tension settled over the room, and my chest tightened. Then she turned back to me, her voice low and careful.

“She is in the city,” Lisandra said. “Here in Ishwan but she is deciding what to do.”

“What do you mean? What decision?” My question came out sharper than I intended, my hands clenching in the folds of my dress.

Lisandra’s gaze did not waver, but there was a sadness in her eyes. “She mentioned that she might try to travel back to Avaloria,” she said slowly, as if carefully measuring each word. “To make amends with the thieves’ guild.”

For a heartbeat, my world seemed to tilt, and I struggled to find my footing. Eira was leaving? I thought of her fierce smile, the warmth of her eyes, the way she had looked at me like I was something worth fighting for. I had felt more like myself with her than I ever had, even before my transformation, and now... she was slipping away.

I could not lose her. I would not.

“Where in the city is she?” I demanded, a sudden urgency rising within me, the need to see her, to tell her she did not have to go.

Mother’s expression softened, and she reached out, resting a cool hand on my arm. “Aeliana,” she said gently, “you cannot chase her. She must make her own choice.”

But I pulled away, shaking my head. My mind was already racing, my heart pulling me toward the city, toward Eira. I could not let her walk away without at least hearing me, without knowing that I wanted her to stay.

“She is making a choice,” I said, my voice unsteady, “but so am I.”

And without another word, I turned and fled from the room, my feet moving swiftly, carrying me toward the city beyond. Toward Eira. Toward whatever future awaited us, whether she chose to stay by my side... or not.

I wandered the streets in a desperate daze, my pulse quickening with each step. I had to find her. My heart was a wild drumbeat in my chest, urging me forward even when my legs ached, and my mind threatened to spiral into panic. Every corner I turned, every face I saw that wasn’t hers, only added to the growing knot of fear deep inside me. What if she had already left? What if I was too late?

Then, just as the thought clawed at my mind, I saw her, a flash of familiar red hair caught in the soft rays of the sun. She stood at the edge of a viewpoint, where the cliffs gave way to a railing that overlooked the endless sea. The waves below crashed and roared, echoing the turmoil inside me. She was not alone.

Miala, the girl that had served us the last time we came to Ishwan and the girl that made Eira blush upon our departure, was there, standing too close, her hand resting on Eira’s arm with a tenderness that twisted like a knife in my chest. I froze, my breath hitching, and watched as Miala leaned closer, her voice soft and persuasive, the words drifting toward me like the distant crash of waves.

“Stay here, with me, Eira,” she said, her tone laced with a gentle plea. “Do not go back to a world of men that will oppress you. Here, you are free, and I can give you everything you need.”

The way Miala’s fingers curled around Eira’s arm made my stomach turn. I wanted to scream, to rush forward and pull Eira away, but I could not move. I was caught in the web of my own fear, my own hesitation. What if Eira chose her? What if she had already made up her mind?

But then, as if she could sense me, Eira’s eyes lifted. Her gaze locked with mine, and I saw the shock ripple through her, the widening of her eyes, the sudden parting of her lips. She took a step back, shrugging Miala’s hand from her arm as if it burned.

“I need a moment alone, Miala,” she said, her voice firm but gentle.

Miala’s expression was unreadable, and she leaned in to press a lingering kiss to Eira’s cheek. I felt the sting of it, sharp and raw, but I stood my ground, rooted to the spot as if some invisible force held me there.

“Of course, darling,” Miala replied, though the sweetness in her voice did not reach her eyes. She turned to leave, and when she saw me, her face twisted into a scowl, a look of cold disdain. She held my gaze for a long, tense moment, then brushed past me without a word, her steps echoing down the path behind me.

And suddenly, it was just the two of us, me and Eira, caught in the stillness of the moment. The air between us felt fragile, as if the wrong word, the wrong breath, might shatter it into a thousand pieces. The sea roared below, a fierce and restless sound, but I heard nothing except the silence that stretched between us, heavy with everything we had not said.

She looked at me, and I looked back, the world narrowing to just the two of us, standing on the edge of something I was not sure I knew how to face.

I took a hesitant step forward, suddenly realizing I was a stranger to Eira, even though I felt more like myself than ever. My cheeks grew warm, and my throat tightened, but I could not stop the words from tumbling out.

“Eira…” I said, my voice unsteady, barely louder than the breeze drifting in from the cliffs. “I… I heard you were thinking about leaving.”

Eira’s eyes narrowed as she stepped closer, shrinking the space between us, though it still felt as if a gulf lay between us. “Yes,” she said softly, her gaze unsure. “I am a bit lost at the moment.”

I swallowed, my own feet carrying me another step closer to her. “Why are you lost, Eira?”

For a moment, something flashed in her eyes, a shadow of emotion I couldn’t fully understand. Her face tightened with frustration, and her voice held a raw edge that made me want to recoil. “How can you ask why, Aeliana?” She spoke my name like an accusation, and it stung. She shook her head, the words spilling out in a torrent. “It’s… it’s so hard to think of you as Caelan. You stand there and ask why I am lost, as if you cannot see it. Caelan was my anchor. My solid ground. Now he is gone… and you stand in his place, the lost princess of Avaloria.”

She turned away then, her back to me, her focus drawn to the open sea. I saw how her shoulders tensed, how her fingers clung to the railing like it was the only thing keeping her standing. Below us, the waves churned and crashed, wild and relentless.

I wanted to say something, anything that would break through the distance between us, to tell her that I was still here, that I had not abandoned her. But the words lodged in my throat, stuck and shapeless, and I realized that I did not know who I was, either. Her pain, the hurt I could feel pulsing from her in waves, carved into me like a blade. My chest tightened until I could not breathe.

My knees gave out, and I collapsed to the ground, my arms wrapping around myself as if it might steady me. The sobs came then, jagged and uncontrollable, ripping from me with a force I could not hold back. I cried for everything that had been lost, for the princess I did not know how to become, and for the aching, impossible chasm that now lay between us.

Eira remained facing the sea, her back rigid, her hands gripping the railing. The ocean roared below us, and my cries were swallowed by the sound of waves, lost to the empty space that stretched between us.

The sobs still wracked my chest as I forced the words out, gasping between each broken breath. “I’m still me, Eira. I swear it. I’m still the same Caelan.” My voice hitched, my throat burning, but I pressed on. “The same person who would have followed you anywhere. The same person, just… without the cursed shell I wore for so long. The same person who has always, desperately, loved you.”

I fell silent then, the world around me narrowing to that terrible, empty quiet between us. The seconds stretched, a suffocating stillness settling over the cliffside. My heart thudded in my chest, a beat that felt too loud, too painful.

“Could… could I come with you, if you decide to go?” The words slipped out as a whisper, a plea I couldn’t hold back, a last thread of hope before everything unraveled.

Another long silence. I thought I might shatter from it, from the ache that grew with every breath she did not answer. I pressed my forehead to the cool stone beneath me, no longer able to meet the horizon that seemed to stretch endlessly in front of us.

Then I felt it, a touch, light as a whisper, soft as a feather. Eira knelt in front of me, her hand warm against my chin, gently lifting my face. I stared up at her, blinking through the blur of tears, barely able to breathe. Her eyes, those deep, stormy eyes, searched mine, and for a moment, time stood still.

“You love me?” she asked, her voice fragile, trembling.

I nodded, my breath catching. “More than life itself.”

She did not move, did not speak, and I felt the tears well up again, spilling down my cheeks. Frustration clawed at me, anger at myself for being so weak, for crying like some helpless little girl. I raised my hands, clumsily swiping at my face, hating how out of control I felt, how raw and exposed I had become.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice breaking, my hands shaking. “I cannot stop… the tears just keep coming. I must look like…”

“Stop.” Eira’s voice cut through my rambling, firm but kind, and she caught my wrists in her hands, stopping my movements. “Stop, Aeliana.”

She leaned closer, her touch grounding me, her presence steadying the wild storm inside. “Look at me,” she said, and the intensity in her gaze held me captive. I froze, my breath hitching, unable to look away. Her hands were strong and sure around mine, her expression fierce and unyielding.

And in that moment, with the world falling apart around us, I saw something flicker in her eyes, something that sparked like the first light after a long, dark night. It was recognition.

“I see you,” Eira said, her voice quiet but unwavering. “I see you, Aeliana. Not just the Caelan I knew. I see you.” She held my gaze, and for the first time, I felt as if she was not just looking at me, but truly seeing me.

She let go of my wrists, only to cup my face in her hands, and I could not hold back the sob that escaped my lips. Her touch, gentle and steady, was like a lifeline, a tether pulling me from the darkness that threatened to swallow me whole. The cliffs, the sea, the sky, they all faded away until it was only us, the two of us, caught in a fragile, tender space where nothing else mattered.

“I am still here,” I managed to choke out, my voice barely a whisper. “Please, don’t go. Do not leave me.”

Her thumb brushed a tear from my cheek, and she leaned closer, her forehead touching mine, her breath warm and ragged against my skin. “I do not know what the future holds,” she said softly, her words threading into the air between us. “You’re a princess…”

I stared into her eyes. “Your princess.”

Eira paused at my words. “I understand now that you are still Caelan, but a princess…” She swallowed. “Do you know what gulf that creates between us? Do you understand that a lowly thief like me could never aspire…”

I pressed forward and kissed her. Her soft lips pressed firmly against mine. She was completely silent as I pulled away. “Yes… I am the lost princess, but I am also your princess. If you will have me, nothing will stop us from being together. Nothing has changed in my heart for you. I will abdicate if I must. We can run away together if we need to. We could make a home here together if they allow it. You come first. Always. I’m your princess.” I repeated.

Eria stared into my eyes. “I can’t leave you, Aeliana. Not when you represent everything I ever dreamed of. If I left you now, I would never forgive myself for not at least trying.” She leaned forward, her hands cupping my face, and she kissed me.

We stayed like that for many minutes, wrapped in each other’s arms, kneeling on the ground, brushing our lips against each other’s.

Eira's hands were firm yet gentle as she pulled me to my feet, steadying me when my legs threatened to give out beneath me. She did not release me immediately, though; instead, she kept her hands on my shoulders, holding me at arm's length, her gaze sweeping over me with an intensity that made my heart beat faster. Her eyes lingered, tracing my features, taking in every change, every detail.

“I never had the chance to truly look at you,” she said softly, her voice carrying a note of awe. “After the curse broke… you were still in your old clothes, soaked in blood. You were barely alive when we got you back to Ishwan. Your mother, Queen Lisandra, she took you away, to a private room. She did not leave your side until you were resting comfortably.” Eira’s lips trembled as if the memory was still raw, still fresh. “But now, standing here... by the gods, Aeliana, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

I felt my cheeks flush under her words, a warmth spreading through me that was both thrilling and terrifying. Eira’s eyes glimmered with something like wonder, and I found myself unable to look away. There was no judgment in her gaze, only a deep, honest admiration that I had never dared to dream of.

“It must be such a shock for you,” she continued, her voice gentle and cautious, as if afraid I might shatter all over again.

I shook my head and closed the distance, my hands reaching for hers. I held them tightly, drawing strength from the warmth of her skin. “Yes... and no,” I said, my voice steady, the truth falling from my lips like a secret finally set free. “When the curse broke, it felt like a mask had fallen away. I had always known… always felt I should have been female. Even when I was Caelan, I felt trapped inside a shell that never fit. I always looked at you and wished... I wished I could be like you… graceful, strong, beautiful, and free.”

I saw a flicker of understanding in her expression. Her grip tightening around my hands. The wind tugged at our hair, carrying the scent of the sea, and I let the cool air fill my lungs. For the first time, I felt as though I was truly breathing, my chest expanding without that familiar, suffocating tightness.

“When I woke,” I continued, my voice barely more than a whisper, “I looked at my reflection, and I recognized I was something I always thought I should be. I had never felt more... right. I was me, finally. So, no, in that it felt like shackles had been released from me, but yes, in that I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror.”

Eira’s lips parted, a slow smile forming there, and she reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “I see it now,” she said, her voice reverent. “You, Aeliana. The real you. I see the woman you were always meant to be.”

A shuddering breath escaped me, and I closed my eyes against the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm me. Her acceptance, her understanding, it was almost too much to bear. My fingers tightened around hers, my heart a wild, thundering thing in my chest, and I did not try to stop the tears that spilled down my cheeks. They were not tears of pain this time, but of release, of joy, fragile and trembling, like the first bloom of spring after a long and endless winter.

Eira’s thumbs brushed away my tears, her smile growing as she looked at me like I was something precious, something worth fighting for. And for the first time, I believed it too.

Eira’s lips met mine, and the tenderness in her kiss melted the last of my fears. Her touch was soft, warm, like sunlight breaking through a cold morning fog. When she pulled back, her forehead resting gently against mine, she smiled, a smile that made my heart flutter and my breath catch. “You taste like honey, Aeliana,” she murmured, her voice filled with wonder.

A smile tugged at my lips, and I leaned in to kiss her again, my pulse racing. “I always wanted to taste your lips,” I admitted, feeling the blush rise to my cheeks. “You taste sweeter than I ever imagined... like the most succulent treat. And your scent, Eira, it's like the air after a spring rain, fresh, alive.”

Eira's eyes sparkled, and she squeezed my hand, stepping back just enough to look me over. “That dress is stunning on you,” she said, her gaze traveling down the soft lines of the fabric. “Is that all they gave you to wear?”

I blushed again, my fingers fidgeting with the delicate folds of the dress. “There was this... and something more like what you wear,” I said, my voice a little shy. “Leather breeches and a corset with a blouse. But everything feels different now. I’m smaller than I was, and... and weaker. I don’t know if I can fight anymore. Everything seems so much larger than it used to be. Thorne... I never realized how truly huge he is.”

Eira laughed softly, a sound that warmed me from the inside out, and she shook her head. “You’re stronger than you think, Aeliana,” she said, her eyes holding mine with a steadiness that made me feel grounded. “And you will learn to fight in this new form. You’ve always been a fighter, nothing has changed that.” She reached out, adjusting the strap of my dress with a careful hand. “Besides,” she added, her voice softening, “you look every bit the princess. My princess.”

My heart soared at her words, and I felt a radiant smile spread across my face. I squeezed her hand tightly, feeling the warmth and strength of her fingers laced with mine. “Thank you,” I whispered, feeling lighter than I had in days, like the storm inside me had finally settled.

Together, we turned toward the city, our hands still entwined and walked back toward the others. Eira’s thumb traced lazy circles over my knuckles as we moved through the bustling streets, and I found myself glancing at her every few moments, catching her eyes and sharing silent smiles. The world felt brighter, fuller, like the colors had deepened and the air itself hummed with possibility.

 

***

 

Eira's kiss still lingered on my lips as we walked through the corridors, her warmth steady at my side. When we reached the entrance to the main hall, she stopped me with a gentle tug on my hand. Her eyes sparkled with that mischievous light I had come to adore. Then she leaned in, brushing her lips against mine in a lingering kiss that sent a rush of warmth through me.

“I want to get my fill of kisses before we meet everyone,” she murmured, her breath soft against my mouth.

I laughed quietly, a blush spreading across my cheeks, and kissed her back, longer this time. Her presence grounded me, even as my heart fluttered with each touch. I felt whole, not broken, not trapped in some strange dream. Just... me.

Hand in hand, we pushed open the heavy wooden doors and stepped into the hall. The room fell silent, and all eyes turned towards us. Mother’s gaze went straight to our entwined fingers, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before she masked it with a serene smile.

“I take it you are no longer leaving, Eira?” she asked, her voice calm, but there was an unspoken tension, a mother’s protective edge.

Eira’s grip tightened in mine. “That’s yet to be determined,” she said firmly. “I will stay with Aeliana. Where she goes, I go. But you and I... we need to have a talk. I need to understand what all of this means, what to expect from this life.”

Mother’s expression softened, and she nodded. “We will speak, Eira,” she promised.

Thorne's laughter broke the brief silence, the deep, rumbling sound echoing off the high stone walls. “Not pining away anymore, Aeliana?” he teased, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

My cheeks burned, and I lifted my chin, attempting a dignified look. “I am the princess of Avaloria. I never pined,” I said, trying to sound haughty. “That would be unbecoming.”

Alric’s chuckle joined Thorne’s, the sound as light as summer rain. “A princess for only a few days,” he said, shaking his head, “and you are already speaking like one. But, for the record, you absolutely pined for Eira. Everyone could see it.”

I opened my mouth to protest, feeling my blush deepen, but before I could find the words to deny his teasing accusation, the air shifted. A hush fell over the room as Vanya strode in, her robes swirling, eyes keen as if she could see through to my very soul.

Vanya’s presence seemed to fill the hall as she moved towards me, her gaze piercing. She stood before me, her eyes narrowed with an almost clinical curiosity, and the room seemed to press in around us, the air thick with expectation.

“Let us have a proper look at you, Princess Aeliana,” she said, her tone commanding. I fought the urge to shift under her scrutiny, my back stiffening, but I knew she saw the nervous twitch of my fingers. She moved around me like a hawk circling its prey, her expression unyielding.

“You seem well-adjusted,” she observed, her words cool and assessing. “It is as I suspected. This... is who you were always meant to be. The curse merely hid your true self. Now that it is broken, your magic will come to you, unhindered.”

A quiet fury flared behind Mother’s eyes as she rose abruptly from her chair, her movement swift and sharp like a blade drawn from its sheath. “It is about time you showed up, Vanya,” she snapped, the calm façade of a queen cracking, revealing the rage she had kept simmering beneath the surface.

Mother’s hands clenched at her sides. “You knew,” she hissed, her voice tight with barely contained fury. “You knew all along that Caelan was my daughter, and you said nothing.”

Vanya turned from me, meeting Mother’s anger without so much as a flinch, her face composed and serene. “Yes,” she said simply, her gaze unwavering. “I knew. I sensed Caelan’s magic, buried, bound, but the only way to free it was to shatter the curse. If you had known the truth, Lisandra, you would have acted differently. You would have sheltered Caelan, guarded her, changed the path she needed to walk. If Caelan had known, she would never have been able to make the sacrifice that broke the curse. The act had to be selfless, pure of heart, and free of any expectation.”

Mother’s face twisted with the ache of a mother’s regret, her anger momentarily fading into a sorrow so deep it hurt to witness. “You manipulated us and put us all in grave danger,” she said, but the accusation lacked force, weighed down by a grief she had no choice but to accept.

Vanya’s voice softened, though her gaze remained intense. “I did what needed to be done. I took no pleasure in it, but now you have your daughter back. Now, Aeliana’s magic has awakened. This is not the time to argue over whether I was right or wrong. We have greater threats to face.”

She looked to me, and I felt the responsibility she placed upon me with her words. My magic... something that had been hidden, something I had never truly understood, was now within reach.

Mother’s fury dimmed, replaced by the cold steel of a ruler’s determination. She straightened, her gaze sharpening as she nodded. “You are right,” she said quietly. “We do not have time to waste. We must prepare. But this conversation is not over, Vanya.”

Vanya dipped her head, acknowledging the promise of future reckoning. “I never expected it to be, Queen Lisandra,” she said softly, and then she turned back to me, her eyes catching mine with a kind of fierce pride. “Princess Aeliana, we will need your strength and your magic. It is time you learned what you are truly capable of.”

Eira’s voice cut through the tense silence with the clear, practical tone I had come to rely on. “I think we need to start with some basics before Aeliana dives into magic training,” she said, glancing at me with a reassuring smile. “What if her magic is drained, or if she ends up in cuffs that suppress magic? She was a taller, stronger man before... I am sure she feels a bit uncertain about her physical abilities now.”

I gave a small nod, grateful that Eira was voicing the unease I had been trying to hide. I knew I was smaller, more delicate. Even the way I moved had changed, my balance shifted, my body lighter and more agile, but unfamiliar all the same.

Thorne’s grin split his face as he chimed in, his rough voice carrying a hint of mischief. “Do you have training weapons, Vanya? We need to see what Aeliana is capable of now. No use sending her into battle if she is not ready to handle herself.”

My stomach twisted, and I looked from one face to the next, feeling like the floor had suddenly tilted beneath me. Fighting? My heart beat faster, and I was not sure whether I wanted to protest or accept. This body felt different, and the idea of testing its limits was both thrilling and terrifying. Could I still wield a blade with the strength I once had? Would I be able to defend myself, or anyone else, if the need arose?

Vanya’s gaze shifted to me, her eyes assessing. “A wise suggestion,” she said, nodding slowly. “I will retrieve some training weapons... and perhaps a few more sparring partners. It would be good to see how you handle yourself, Princess.”

My throat tightened. Was this really happening? I could feel the anticipation in the air, everyone looking at me, measuring me against the person I used to be, Caelan, who could hold his own in a brawl, who was strong and broad-shouldered. Now, I felt smaller, lighter... softer. The thought sent a shiver of doubt down my spine.

Eira’s eyes sparkled with encouragement, and she stepped closer, her fingers grazing my arm. “You should change into something more suitable,” she said, her voice low, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “I could help you if you would like...”

Mother cleared her throat, a sharp sound that cut through the moment like a knife. She gave Eira a pointed look. “Not until we have reached an understanding, Eira,” she said, her tone cool and firm.

I could feel Eira’s reluctance, the way her hand lingered on mine before she pressed a quick, soft kiss to my lips. “Go on, Aeliana,” she said gently. “You will be fine.”

I watched her as I moved towards the hallway, feeling a pang of longing. I wanted to stay by her side, to cling to the warmth and security of her presence, but I knew I had to prove myself now. This was a safe place.

I moved down the hall to the bedroom I had woken up in and I closed the door behind me, shutting out the echo of voices from the hall. The quiet of my room was a needed respite. I was thrilled to be Aeliana, but there was just so much to think about and process. The mirror waited, drawing me forward like it had earlier when I first awoke in this new form.

I stepped closer, my fingers trailing over the fabric of the dress I wore, the dress Eira had admired. Soft, light, it moved with me like a second skin, gentle against the curves I was still not used to seeing. My reflection stared back, wide-eyed and unsure, a stranger I both recognized and didn’t.

Slowly, I traced the line of my collarbone, down the curve of my shoulder. My skin tingled with the memory of Eira’s kisses, the way her lips had moved so tenderly against mine. I bit my lip, my cheeks flushing at the thought. What would it be like... I wondered, my heart quickening at the very idea. A part of me felt like a young girl with her first crush, nervous and excited all at once. I touched my lips again, feeling the ghost of Eira’s kisses against them, and a warmth bloomed inside me, deeper and richer than anything I had ever felt before.

My eyes drifted down to the leather breeches folded neatly on the table, a stark contrast to the gentle dress I wore. Could I still be a fighter? Would the body I had now hold up under the strain of combat? My gaze flicked back to the mirror, seeing the softness of the fabric, the way it flowed around me, reflecting the fragile mix of emotions that churned inside. A quiet sigh escaped my lips as I slipped the dress from my shoulders, letting it pool on the floor in a gentle heap.

The leather felt cool and firm as I pulled it on, fitting snugly against the unfamiliar curves of my hips and thighs. I tightened the front laces of the corset, feeling it cinching around my narrow waist, pressing my breasts higher than I expected. My face warmed at the sight. Everything was more... present, more revealing, more me. My body looked strong, in a different way, lean and lithe where Caelan had been broad and powerful.

The breeches hugged my legs tightly, moving with me as I adjusted the fit. They made me look more like a fighter than I felt. My fingers traced the belt at my waist, tugging it until it felt secure. I caught my own eye in the mirror and forced a smile, though it felt uncertain and small. The person staring back was a mystery, yet she was real, she was me.

I turned and walked to the door, pausing just before the threshold to look back at the room where so much had changed. I was still a tangled mess of emotions and thoughts, of waking as someone new, with magic, as a princess, as a daughter, and of Eira’s touch. But I couldn’t stay here, cocooned in isolation as tempting as it was to linger. I had to move forward, even if it meant facing the doubts that gnawed at me.

With a steadying breath, I pushed the door open and stepped into the hall.

As I stepped into the main room, Thorne’s voice rang out sharply. “Catch!” he said, tossing me a wooden sword. I nearly fumbled it, my grip clumsy, but managed to snatch it just before it hit the ground. My pulse quickened, and I looked around the room.

Eira’s gaze was the first thing I felt, warm and admiring, her eyes lingering on the way the leather breeches hugged my legs and how the corset curved around my waist. There was a smile there, one that sent a surge of heat rushing to my cheeks. But it was quickly interrupted by the thought there were others in the room, a reminder that this wasn’t just about us.

Mother and Alric sat off to the side, their heads bent together as they discussed what sounded like magic training strategies. Their voices were a low hum, background noise to the swirl of my own anxieties. Vanya was watching me too, leaning against a wall with her arms crossed, a distant, assessing look on her face.

But then there were the two other women. One of them, Miala, caught my eye immediately. She already had a wooden sword in her hand, and the way she was swinging it back and forth had an unsettling confidence. She sneered at me, her voice dripping with contempt. “You?” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “You’re the lost princess of Avaloria?” The mockery in her tone cut deep, and I felt the blood drain from my face. “This is going to be fun.”

She strutted toward Eira, flashing her a flirtatious, mocking grin. “Look at her, Eira,” she taunted. “Quaking in her boots. A frightened little thing barely holding a sword?” Miala’s tone grew more suggestive, and she practically purred the words. “If you want a real woman, I can show you what that means.”

Eira’s eyes narrowed instantly, the playful warmth replaced with a flash of anger so fierce it made my breath hitch. “You don’t know a damn thing about her, Miala,” she said sharply, her voice low and dangerous. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, and I felt a surge of warmth in my chest, anger for me, for what Miala had implied, and the unwavering support that Eira radiated. It was almost overwhelming. For a moment, I felt the urge to drop the sword, to reach out to Eira, to tell her how much it meant that she stood by me so fiercely.

But before Miala could retort, Thorne cut in with a crisp, no-nonsense voice. “Let’s get started.” His focus entirely on me. “We don’t have time for games. Aeliana needs to show us what she can do. We will start with defense, and Miala, you will help her with that.”

Miala’s sneer faded, her expression hardening as she backed away from Eira, clearly irritated by Thorne’s interruption. But I didn’t miss the way her eyes still glimmered with the promise of a challenge to come.

Thorne stepped forward, his voice losing its edge, growing more encouraging. “Eyes up, Aeliana,” he said, his tone a little gentler. “Take your stance. Start with defense, feel out your movements, and don’t worry about winning. Just focus.”

I swallowed hard and nodded, adjusting my grip on the wooden sword. I tried to steady my breathing, remembering the anger in Eira’s voice, letting it strengthen me instead of the uncertainty I felt.

Miala wasted no time. She lunged forward, swinging fast and aggressive, and I barely managed to block it. The impact jolted through my arms, and I stumbled back, feeling clumsy and unsteady. Miala’s derisive laugh echoed through the hall. “Pathetic,” she scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. “Is that all you’ve got, Princess?”

But something inside me clicked, the way she said Princess as if it was a joke, as if I was a joke, and I set my jaw, tightening my grip. Thorne’s voice was a steady guide in the chaos. “Stay light, Aeliana. Remember all the training you have had.”

I forced myself to focus. I moved again, my steps lighter, the sword feeling less like a burden and more like an extension of my hand. I began to block Miala’s strikes, adjusting each time, finding a rhythm that had been missing before. My breath slowed, and the panic ebbed as I started to anticipate her movements.

And then it hit me, the realization that I wasn’t struggling anymore, that my body wasn’t fighting against me. The curse had been like a weight, a heavy cloak that had dragged down my every move. Like a filter made of sand that slowed water as it passed through. But now, I felt… free. My steps were quick, precise, and each time I deflected a blow, it was easier. I wasn’t weaker than I had been before. My movements were fluid, my strikes sharper, my footwork light as air. It was like I had been training all my life with bags of rocks strapped to my limbs and had finally shed them.

Miala’s strikes grew more cautious, less certain as I started to match her pace, then outpace her. I saw the flicker of surprise in her eyes, the frustration as I deflected another attack and stepped inside her guard. I hadn’t been expecting the exhilaration that followed, a surge of confidence that made my blood sing and my heart pound.

Thorne’s voice was calm and steady, guiding me through the tension. “Good, Aeliana. Keep moving, don’t let her get inside your head. You don’t have to overpower her.”

I could hear Eira cheering me on from the sidelines, her voice fierce and proud, and I found myself smiling, feeling the confidence inside me swell. I wasn’t just fighting for myself, I was fighting for her too, for the person who believed in me when I hadn’t believed in myself.

Miala’s frustration boiled over, and she lunged forward with a reckless, overextended strike. I sidestepped smoothly, my body responding with a grace I didn’t know I had, and brought my sword down lightly against her shoulder, stopping just before it made contact.

Miala froze, her eyes wide with shock, and I took a step back, lowering my weapon. My breathing was steady, my heart racing with the thrill of it, but I kept my face calm.

Thorne’s voice was filled with approval. “Well done, Aeliana,” he said. “Now we can see what you’re truly capable of.”

I met Eira’s gaze across the room, and she was beaming, her face alight with pride and something deeper, something that made my heart ache in the best way possible. I had never felt so seen, so accepted for who I was, not who I had been forced to be.

Miala spat out a string of curses, her face twisted with fury as she glared at me. I kept my stance, heart still racing, and watched as she turned to Eira, throwing a mocking smile over her shoulder. “If you want to find me later,” she said, her voice dripping with seduction, “you know where to look.”

But Eira didn’t even acknowledge her. She moved toward me with the confident grace of someone who knew exactly what she wanted. A shiver ran down my spine as she slipped her arm around my waist, pulling me close. She kissed me, slow and deliberate, her lips warm and possessive. My breath hitched.

Miala’s enraged shout shattered the moment. I barely had time to register her movements as she hurled her wooden sword aside, the clatter echoing in the hall. She reached for her real sword, drawing the steel with a vicious speed, and lunged straight at me, her face contorted with rage.

Time slowed. Instinct took over as I raised my wooden sword just in time, the crack of wood splintering against metal deafening in my ears. Splinters flew, biting at my skin, and I staggered back. But before Miala could press her attack, Eira was there, faster than I could have imagined, a blur of motion.

In an instant, Eira had a dagger at Miala’s throat, her face inches from the other woman’s. Her eyes were cold, every trace of warmth replaced by a ferocity that took my breath away. “Drop your sword,” Eira hissed, her voice as sharp as the blade she held. “Aeliana is mine. If you think you can lay a finger on her…” her grip tightened, the edge of the dagger pressing just enough to make Miala’s eyes widen, “you will have to come through me first. Not that she needs my help.”

For a moment, Miala’s defiance wavered, her eyes flickering between Eira’s blade and my face. Then, with a defeated snarl, she let her sword fall to the ground. It hit the stone with a loud clank, the sound almost swallowed by the tension that gripped the room. I watched it spin and settle at her feet, a rush of emotion swelling in my chest. Pride, love, and a fierce sense of belonging crashed over me. Eira had stood up for me, claimed me, and defended me without hesitation.

Vanya’s voice cut through the silence like a whip. “Enough!” she commanded, her tone brooking no argument. “Back down, all of you!” She stepped forward, her eyes blazing with barely restrained fury as she addressed Miala. “You dishonor us, Miala. To attack the Princess of Avaloria with the intent to harm? You’re fortunate she didn’t use her magic in self-defense, or you would be nothing but ashes.”

I shivered at Vanya’s words, imagining the outbursts of magic I had in the past. There was a quiet power in me now, one that I still didn’t fully understand. I felt it simmering beneath my skin, a presence that had always been there, buried and locked away.

Miala’s face paled, and she opened her mouth to argue, but the cold fury in Vanya’s gaze silenced her. With a sharp nod from Vanya, two guards stepped forward. They grabbed Miala’s arms, their grips firm. She struggled for a moment, a mixture of rage and humiliation flashing across her face, but she didn’t resist.

Vanya’s eyes softened when they turned to me. “Princess Aeliana,” she said, her tone gentler now. “You showed restraint and control in the face of hostility. That is a mark of true strength. But remember, you are Avaloria’s heir, and there will be those who test you, who will seek to provoke you. Trust in who you are, and the power you hold. I admit, I was impressed watching you fight. We need to start your magic training because without control, your magic could have acted to defend you and I’m afraid Miala would not have survived it if you did.”

The guards began to lead Miala out of the hall, tightening their grip on her arms. She struggled briefly, but I couldn’t ignore the sudden sharp sense of responsibility. This wasn’t what I wanted, not how I envisioned my life to be. I know I didn’t want to cause division.

“Stop!” I called out, my voice calmer than I felt. The guards paused, their eyes darting to Vanya for confirmation. She studied me for a moment, her expression thoughtful and unreadable, before nodding for them to hold their ground. The room seemed to collectively hold its breath, waiting for me to speak.

I took a deep breath and stepped forward, the words tumbling out, unpolished but honest. “I didn’t know who I was until this morning,” I began, feeling the pressure of every gaze in the hall. “I didn’t know I was the Princess of Avaloria, or that Queen Lisandra was my mother. This is all new to me... and I am uncertain about... well, everything.”

I glanced at Eira, whose expression was tender and encouraging, giving me the strength to continue. “What I do know,” I said, turning back to Vanya, “is that I do not want to begin this new life as someone who sows division. I don’t want to make enemies before I have even begun to understand what it means to be a princess. Obviously, it is up to you, Vanya, to decide what happens next, but I forgive Miala. And I ask, humbly, that she be released.”

The hall was silent, and I could feel my heart hammering in my chest as I awaited Vanya’s response. Then, slowly, a smile spread across her face, one of warmth and approval. “I heard of you, Aeliana,” she said, her voice carrying a strange mixture of pride and sadness. “I was told how you grew up an orphan, never knowing your place, and how you fought your way out of the thieves’ guild. How you did what you could to help the people of Avaloria, even when you had so little to give. You may not have known you were a princess until this morning, but you have shown the heart and honor of one for much longer. You have a spirit that seeks unity, not discord, and I admire that.”

She turned to face Miala, who had gone still, her face a mask of barely concealed turmoil. “The princess has shown you mercy,” Vanya said softly. “And I will do the same, but only if you offer a sincere apology, not just to Aeliana, but to all of us here.”

Miala’s shoulders slumped, the fire in her eyes extinguished. Her gaze dropped to the floor, and for a long moment, she seemed to struggle with the words. When she finally spoke, her voice was hoarse, edged with genuine regret. “I... I wanted Eira,” she admitted, her eyes still cast downward. “She’s so beautiful, and she’s everything I ever imagined in a partner. Then... suddenly, the lost princess was found, and Eira only seemed to have eyes for you, Aeliana. I lost my temper, and I took it out on you.”

She looked up, meeting my gaze with a mixture of vulnerability and shame. “I am sorry, Princess Aeliana. I was wrong.”

I felt the room exhale as one, the tension easing, and I managed a small, tentative smile. “Thank you, Miala,” I said, my voice softer now. “I understand what it is to feel out of place, to have your world turned upside down. We all deserve a chance to make things right.”

Miala’s eyes widened, and she gave a jerky nod, clearly taken aback by my response. Vanya stepped forward, placing a firm but gentle hand on Miala’s shoulder. “You will stay, Miala,” she said, her voice firm but not unkind. “But know this, Princess Aeliana’s forgiveness is not a free pass. You must earn back the trust of those you wronged, and you will start by showing respect. To all of us.”

Miala nodded again, more solidly this time, and the guards released their hold. She moved back, subdued and silent, as the room returned to a semblance of normalcy. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding. Eira was suddenly there, her arm around my waist, a gentle reassurance that made my heart swell. I leaned into her, grateful for her steady presence, and for a moment, I allowed myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, I could be the princess Avaloria needed me to be.

Vanya’s voice cut through my thoughts, calling for everyone’s attention. “We have much to do,” she said, her tone all business now. “The Aeliana’s training will continue as there is no time to waste.”

Thorne picked up two items from the table. My sword and dagger from my life as Caelan. “I think you earned these back. I adjusted the belts for your new shape.”

As I slipped my hand around the hilt of my sword, a warm sensation pulsed through me, and I couldn't help but smile. The leather of the belt fit comfortably against my waist, adjusted perfectly to my new form. The dagger at my side, the one I had once carried as Caelan, now sat snug against my thigh. It felt right, like the final piece of a puzzle I had been putting together for years.

These items were more than just a weapon. They were a connection to who I had been and who I was now becoming. With a deep breath, I stood a little straighter, feeling the strength in my back, the subtle grace in my movements. I felt like I had taken another step towards settling into my new life.

Vanya, ever the voice of practicality, clapped her hands sharply, breaking the brief silence. “All right,” she said with an edge of authority that made everyone straighten up, “enough of the swords for now. We need to focus. I believe it is time for you to understand the magic that flows through you, Aeliana.”

Mother rose from her seat, while Alric, quiet as ever, stood nearby, ready to offer his wisdom. I felt a little overwhelmed, my mind racing as they guided me toward the table.

I sat down, giddy when Eira sat next to me and rested her hand on my thigh. She leaned in and whispered, “Gods, Aeliana. You look so good in those breeches.”

 I grinned as I waited for Vanya to speak.

“Magic,” Vanya began, her tone deliberate, “is a matter of will, focus, and intent. You have two types of magic within you, Aeliana. One is raw magic, the kind you can actively control, bend to your will, and use with purpose. The other is passive magic, tied not only to you but to the very heart of Avaloria.”

“The raw magic,” Vanya continued, “comes from within you, from your pool of magic, which, I must say, is immense. This is why, even as Caelan, there were moments when your magic broke through the curse. Your magic was so strong that it could not be entirely contained, no matter how tightly the curse tried to bind you.”

I felt a jolt of recognition at her words. I thought back to those strange, fleeting moments when I had felt a rush of power.

“And then there is the passive magic,” Vanya continued, “which you do not need to actively control. It uses you as a conduit, Aeliana, because you are the royal heir of Avaloria. It is a magic that binds itself to the land, the people, and the very spirit of the kingdom. As you step into Avaloria, that magic will begin to flow, whether you will it or not. It will seek to heal what has been broken, to restore what has been lost. Your presence alone will be enough to start the process.”

I glanced at Mother, who gave me a reassuring smile. “This passive magic,” she added, “is symbiotic. It thrives on the health of the kingdom. As Avaloria heals and prospers, the land and its people will feed that magic back into you, strengthening your power. It is a circle of life, one that only the true heir can complete.”

“When I return to Avaloria...” I let my voice trail off, trying to wrap my mind around the enormity of what they were saying.

“The passive magic will awaken,” Vanya confirmed. “It will begin its work the moment you set foot on the land. You will not need to do anything. It is part of your role, your very being as the princess.”

“And the raw magic?” I asked, needing to understand more. “How do I control it? How do I know when to use it?”

“It is not about knowing,” Vanya said. “It is about feeling. Your magic is like a muscle. The more you use it, the more it will respond to your intent. You must focus, direct your will with purpose, and let your magic flow through that intention.”

Her words were both simple and impossibly complicated. I had no idea how to access that will or intent, not yet. But something about her confidence in me, in my ability to learn, made me want to try.

“You are not alone in this,” Mother added, her voice warm with encouragement. “Magic is not a burden to carry alone. It is a gift, and the land, the people of Avaloria, will share that gift with you. The kingdom has been waiting for you, Aeliana.”

Alric raised his hand, palm open, and I watched as he drew a deep breath, his eyes narrowing in concentration. The candle before him sat unlit on the table, a simple thing of wax and wick, but to him, it might as well have been a canvas for his magic.

“Watch closely, Aeliana.” he said. “Magic is more than just force. It is visualization and intent. I imagine the candle already alight, the flicker of the flame, the warmth, the light it casts. I feel it before it even exists.” His words seemed to weave a spell of their own, gentle yet precise. A subtle tension filled the air as he reached for his magic, a pulse I could sense though I couldn't see it.

Then, with the slightest movement of his fingers, the wick flared. The candle sputtered to life, the flame rising to a steady, bright glow. It looked effortless, like breathing.

Thorne barked out a laugh, leaning back with a grin. “Magic,” he said, shaking his head, “It will never replace a good, sturdy sword.” He patted the hilt of the blade at his side.

I felt a wry smile tug at my lips, the memory of my own magic still fresh in my mind, how it had lifted guards into the air with barely a thought, how it had healed the little girl and brought her back from the edge of death. Alric’s demonstration had been subtle, almost delicate. Mine had been anything but.

I also remembered seeing Alric in the forest, hurling fireballs at hidden archers, the magic spiraling from his hands in brilliant bursts that sought our enemies. A good, sturdy sword had not been much help against them. I know how Thorne felt though. Magic was intangible, invisible, and, for him, and the old me, something neither of us possessed. We had to rely on our own skills to survive.

Alric nudged Thorne in the ribs with his elbow, a playful jab that made the warrior grunt. “Sword or not, we could all use a bit of magic to keep us warm,” he said, turning to face me with a half-smile. He pointed toward the massive fireplace at the far end of the hall, a dark, yawning mouth of stone waiting to be filled with light. “Your turn, Aeliana. Light the fire.”

I felt my eyes widen a little. “The whole fireplace?” I said, throwing a skeptical glance at the stack of wood in the enormous hearth. “Why not start me off with something smaller, like a candle? That seems easier.”

Mother chuckled softly, her eyes warm with amusement. “A candle requires finesse,” she said. “We do not expect you to have finesse just yet. The fireplace is large enough that if anything goes awry, we should be far enough away to stay safe.”

I couldn't help rolling my eyes, but I turned and faced the fireplace. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, a mix of curiosity and expectation.

“Fine,” I muttered, mostly to myself, and squared my shoulders. I tried to ignore the nervous twist in my stomach, focusing instead on the dark hearth and the wood piled within. I pictured the scene in my mind, the logs catching, the snap of dry bark, the dance of flames spreading from one piece of wood to the next. I imagined the warmth on my face, the golden light spilling across the room.

I took a deep breath, feeling for that strange, elusive sensation that I now knew was my magic. It felt like a current just under my skin, a warm, thrumming pulse. I reached for it, willed it to respond to my thoughts, to shape itself into what I envisioned.

My heart beat faster. The air seemed to hum around me. I could feel the magic stir, but it was slippery, like trying to catch a fish with bare hands.

Come on, I thought, gritting my teeth. I held the image of the flames in my mind, felt the warmth of them in my chest. Then, with a burst of will, I reached out with my magic and sent it surging toward the fireplace.

The fireplace exploded in flames and a combination of a shockwave, and flames raced towards us. I threw up my hands and a shimmering shield directed the blast all around us. When the dust settled, the fire remained, crackling and dancing in the fireplace with a fierce, golden glow.

Eira kissed my cheek. “Whoa. That was impressive.”

Mother laughed, the sound clear and delighted. Alric’s eyes widened slightly, a look of approval crossing his features. Even Thorne seemed momentarily taken aback before a slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Not bad,” Alric said, giving a nod of approval. “A little too much force of will and great reflexes on the shield. Not bad at all.”

I exhaled, my spirit buoyed with a strange mix of triumph and relief. The warmth from the flames seemed to fill the hall, driving away the lingering chill. I felt the tingle of my magic fade, settling back into a quiet hum beneath my skin, but I couldn’t shake the thrill of it, the sheer, untamed power that I had summoned.

“That,” Thorne said, with a grudging sort of respect, “was not what I expected.”

I smiled, “Magic,” I said, turning to meet his gaze, “could have its uses.”

Vanya’s eyes were calm, though I could sense the tension behind them as she watched the fire settle into a steady crackle. The warmth in the room felt too intense now, prickling against my skin, and I looked away from the flames, still feeling the remnants of my raw magic pulsing faintly in my veins.

“You did well,” she said softly as she stood. There was a note of caution in her voice, and it sent a chill through me, even with the heat of the hearth filling the hall. “But you need to understand what just happened, Aeliana.”

I swallowed, glancing up at her. “What do you mean?”

“You reached for your magic,” she explained, “and you succeeded. But you did not let it flow naturally. Instead, you forced it, pulled more from your pool than was necessary.” Her gaze holding mine with a strange mix of pride and concern. “That is why the fire exploded. You did not allow the magic to take only what it needed... you pulled, and it answered. Let this be a reminder to open your magic and let it do the work you are asking it to do.”

The excitement that had lingered in my chest curdled into unease. I had felt the rush, the power thrumming beneath my skin, and it had been exhilarating, but hearing her words, I couldn’t ignore the warning she spoke. It was like holding back a river, the current stronger than I had imagined.

“You will need to practice,” she continued, her tone more measured now, almost soothing. “Somewhere safe, where you can learn to control the flow without fear of harm. Raw magic is powerful, but if you cannot control it...” She let the words hang between us, her meaning clear.

I nodded, trying to suppress the uncertainty that coiled in my gut. Control, it was what I lacked. I could feel the power, could sense its vastness, but taming it felt as impossible as catching a storm in my bare hands.

Vanya’s face grew somber, and she reached into her robe, pulling out a small bundle. My breath caught as she laid it on the table, fingers moving with deliberate care as she unrolled the ancient scroll, its edges frayed and delicate with age. The parchment looked brittle, darkened by time, and the writing was barely legible.

“You need to understand what you are up against, Aeliana,” she said quietly, her gaze steady and unwavering. “This scroll contains the visualization technique that Eldra uses to siphon another’s magic.”

I felt my blood run cold. The lines on the parchment seemed to writhe under the flickering light, as if they held a secret I wasn’t ready to know. My mouth went dry, my heart thudding in my chest.

“I want you to learn it,” Vanya said, her voice firm. “And use it on me.”

I recoiled, colliding into Eira who held me firm. “What?” The word tore from my throat, sharp and incredulous. “No! I cannot... I won’t take anyone’s magic!”

She didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink. Her gaze remained calm, resolute, as if she had expected my reaction. “I am not asking you to take all of it,” she said. “Only a small portion. You need to understand how it feels, the texture of the visualized magic. If Eldra attempts to use this technique against you, you must be prepared.”

I shook my head, a desperate, instinctive gesture. My stomach churned, my pulse roaring in my ears. “You saw what I did to the fireplace,” I said, the words tumbling out, raw with fear. “What if I can’t stop? What if I draw too much? I won’t risk it. I can’t... I can’t do that to you.”

A shadow passed over Vanya’s face, a flicker of something old and haunted that made my breath catch. She stepped closer, her movements slow and deliberate, until she was standing just a foot away, her gaze boring into mine. “I am not giving you a choice,” she said, her voice low and unyielding. “You will do this, Aeliana. I was the one who allowed my daughter to learn this dark magic, and I didn’t stop her fast enough. If you take all my magic in the attempt... then that is what I deserve.”

I stood frozen. My eyes darted to the scroll, its faded ink staring back like an accusation, and I felt a hollow ache settle deep in my chest. “No,” I whispered, barely able to get the word out. “No. I won’t.”

Vanya’s face hardened, and she drew herself up, the mantle of authority settling over her. She nodded, a slow, resigned motion, as if my refusal had been both anticipated and accepted. “Enough for today, then,” she said quietly, turning away. “But make no mistake, Aeliana… we will do this. Tomorrow morning. So, if you don’t want to drain me dry, learn to control your magic.”

I wanted to shout, to argue, to plead, but the words wouldn’t come. I could only watch as she left the scroll in front of me. Then she turned on her heel and walked away, the folds of her robe swishing softly against the stone.

The door to the outside closed behind her with a final, echoing thud. The room fell silent. I stared at the empty space where she had stood, my breath hitching in my throat, and felt the burn of unshed tears prickling at my eyes.

No one spoke. The fire crackled behind me, the only sound in the suffocating quiet, its warmth mocking in its comfort. My hands trembled at my sides, and I knew, I knew, that tonight I would be alone with the scroll, with its secrets and its shadows, and that tomorrow... tomorrow I would have to face the one thing I had always feared: was I strong enough to not succumb to the darkness, the desire to be free of constraints, to never be alone or afraid again.

 

***

 

The knock came just as I had stood to stretch. I had been reading and rereading the scroll between attempts to light a candle. Alric had brought me a dozen, and eleven of them sat on a stone table in various stages of destruction.

I moved quickly to the door, my heart fluttering with a mix of hope and anxiety. Eira. I pulled open the door, only to feel my face fall when I saw who was standing there.

“Expecting someone else?” Mother’s voice was gentle, but the knowing smile on her lips made my cheeks burn. I stammered, caught off guard, and searched for something to say that would smooth over my disappointment. Words tangled in my throat, and I could only manage a weak, “I... No, I just…”

She raised a hand, cutting off my fumbling response. “It’s alright, Aeliana. I understand young love,” she said, her tone carrying a warmth that made me relax, though the twist of embarrassment lingered. “But you both need time to process your feelings, to understand each other fully. Take things slowly. Treat your relationship as something entirely new, because in many ways, it is. You are both discovering who you are now, and that takes time.”

I wanted to protest, to tell her that Eira and I understood each other, that we had gone through enough to know what lay in each other's hearts, but the calm insistence in my mother’s eyes held me back. She stepped inside, closing the door behind her, and I hesitated before following her. My shoulders slumped a little as I moved to stand beside her, feeling strangely small.

She gestured to the small couch beneath the window, the dim evening light filtering in through the thick curtains. I sat down beside her, feeling awkward. Lisandra reached out, taking my hand in hers. “I spoke with Eira,” she said. “And I like her. She’s strong, resourceful, and unafraid to be herself, even when it’s difficult. Who would have thought a queen could be impressed by a thief? But I am. She is... remarkable.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding. My mother’s approval meant more to me than I could put into words. “I know,” I said softly, staring down at my hands. “I want to do it right... with her. But it’s hard to think about anything right now. Not with tomorrow looming over me.”

Mother’s expression shifted, a shadow of concern crossing her face as she gently squeezed my hand. “The siphoning,” she said, her voice low, almost hesitant. She let go of my hand and leaned back, her gaze drifting to the crackling fire across the room.

“She demanded it," my voice tight. I bit my lip, feeling a swell of frustration I didn’t quite know how to handle. “She wants me to siphon her magic tomorrow morning... and I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t even know if I want to try.”

Mother reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “You don’t have to do it, Aeliana,” she said gently, and I could hear the sincerity in her words. “But I understand why she’s asking you. Eldra is dangerous, and she will not stop until she has taken everything from us. From you. No one is safe and that includes Eira. The only thing standing in her way is you, and you need to be prepared for that.”

I shook my head, my stomach churning. “What if I can’t control it?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “What if I hurt her... or worse? What if I become something I don’t recognize? That’s what happened to Eldra.”

Mother’s expression grew sad, and she leaned forward, resting a hand on my knee. “Power is a dangerous thing,” she said softly. “It can consume you if you’re not careful. But it doesn’t have to define you. What matters are the choices you make... and the reasons you make them.” She paused, her gaze steady and warm. “I see the struggle in your eyes, Aeliana. You are not the same person you were before, and that’s okay. Take this journey one step at a time. Make mistakes, learn from them. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to try.”

I looked at her, feeling a tightness in my throat, and for a moment, I saw the strength and wisdom in her face, the same strength that had held Avaloria together in the darkest of times. I wanted to draw on that strength, to find some sense of stability in the swirling uncertainty that filled my mind. “What if I’m not ready?” I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

Mother’s smile was small and sad, but there was a fierceness in her eyes that made my heart swell. “None of us are ever truly ready for the things that matter most,” she said quietly. “But you have more strength than you realize, Aeliana. I have seen it in you, even when you were Caelan. You fought for others, even when it cost you everything. That is the kind of strength that cannot be taught, it is something you were born with. Eldra, is evil. You are not like her.”

I leaned into her, resting my head against her shoulder, and she wrapped her arms around me, holding me close.

“I believe in you,” she whispered into my hair, and I clung to those words, letting them anchor me in the storm that raged inside. I wanted to believe them too, wanted to hold onto the fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, I could find a way to face whatever lay ahead.

Mother’s embrace tightened around me, but then she pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes. Her face was soft, framed by the flickering glow of the fire, and I saw the glistening in her eyes before the words even left her lips.

“How long I wished to hold you,” she said, her voice catching. “To comfort you. To know that you were all right. You may not know it, or even feel it yet, but I love you, Aeliana.”

My breath hitched as the emotions swelled within me, raw and unexpected. Tears welled up, spilling over despite my best efforts to hold them back. It seemed that today, I had no defenses left, everything felt too near, too exposed.

“I... I don’t know what to say,” I managed, wiping at my cheeks with the back of my hand. “It’s just... so much. I don’t know if I can believe it yet.”

Mother’s lips curved in a tender, understanding smile. She reached out, brushing away the tears I had missed with a gentle thumb. “You don’t have to,” she said. “I don’t expect you to. You grew up an orphan and now, now you have a family. Just know that it’s true.”

I nodded. “At first, you were only a glamoured stranger, a masked representation of the royal family who had long forgotten about us, the people who had suffered and endured. But when we discovered that you were the queen, my perception of you began to change. As much as I hated you then, I saw the pain in your eyes. I saw a woman grieving deeply for the loss of her daughter.

“And you showed love for the people, even when it cost you. Yet I understand now, Mother,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “You were not the heir, and you did not carry the passive magic. Our kingdom was doomed to wither and fade. I see that now. I see how you loved both your daughter, me, and a kingdom you could not save.

“When I saw them about to execute you," I said, my voice a broken whisper, "I knew that you deserved to be saved. That you were more worthy than me. When the curse broke, I felt the connection between us, strong and unbreakable.”

Her hand, which had been trembling, reached for mine, and I gripped it tightly. “We lost a lifetime together,” she said, her voice choked with the pain of that loss. “But I am so grateful that we found each other now, even if it took far too long.”

The tears in her eyes matched my own, and for a moment, we sat together, holding on as if the act could bridge the years of separation and suffering that lay behind us. She wiped at her eyes with a soft, almost bashful motion, and I couldn’t help but give a watery smile in return.

“There are so many things I want to tell you,” Mother said after a moment, the sadness in her eyes giving way to something softer, hopeful. “So many questions I want to ask. But there’s one thing we need to talk about now, before anything else.”

I blinked, confusion pulling me back from the haze of emotions. “What is it?”

She took a deep breath, and her fingers tightened around mine. She held my gaze with an intensity that made my chest tighten.

“Your father.”

I sat there feeling a strange emptiness. I found myself struggling to grasp that the King of Avaloria was my father, someone I had never met, never known beyond the stories whispered by those who spoke of the royal family. I had always thought of him as a distant figure, as much a part of the legend of the kingdom as the castles and battles of old.

I hesitated, then spoke, my voice strained and uncertain. “Oh... I suppose with everything happening, I forgot... the king is my father. But why did he never come for me? Why did he not help?”

A flicker of pain darkened my mother’s eyes. “I told you all what Eldra did,” she said gently. “She tricked him. She took all his magic to heal me, and he was left with nothing, just a shell of the man he used to be. It drained him, Aeliana, weakened him to the point where he could no longer stand. He is bedridden and has been for years.”

I blinked, struggling to fit this image of a dying, powerless king into the vague idea I had always had of him, a king who had never come to rescue me, a stranger who had been as unreachable as the stars. There was a tightness in my chest that I couldn’t quite name.

“Why did this all happen to us?” The word escaped me before I could hold it back, tinged with more anger than I had intended.

Mother’s shoulders slumped, her gaze falling to the floor. “Cedric, your father, did it because he loved us,” she said, her voice low. “He loved me, and he loved you. He gave up everything he had left to save us. And because of that, Eldra took advantage of him, drained his power, and left him with nothing but regrets.”

Her words hit me like a blow, and I was left feeling hollow, unsure what to do with this sudden understanding. The man who had given up his magic, his health, his kingdom, had done it for a child he had never seen and a wife who had been the love of his life. I felt a pang of something sharp and bitter, guilt, anger, loss, I wasn’t sure, but as I thought about the one person I truly loved, Eira, I would do anything to save her.

“We need to go back,” Mother said, her voice firm despite the emotion in her eyes. “He needs to see you, Aeliana. You are his daughter, his only child, and your presence... your magic... might be the only thing that can heal him now.”

“But why could you not heal him?” I asked, my voice breaking on the last word. “You have magic. Why could you not save him?”

Mother looked up, meeting my gaze. “Healing requires raw magic, Aeliana,” she said quietly, “something I do not have enough of. I tried, again and again, but his spirit is broken. He has blamed himself for everything that happened, for not being able to protect us, for not finding you. But with your return, with your magic, there is a chance you could restore him. You could make him whole again.”

A father I had never known lay dying, and I was his last hope.

I stood and paced. “This is a lot to absorb. I’m the lost princess. The girl I had heard about year after year. I could have cared less about the lost princess as I was just trying to survive. I lived in the shadow of the palace… I could have thrown a stone and broken the window of the only family I had, but never knew. Now, I know I was cursed, blocked from knowing who I was, I have a family that loves me, a role… as Princess of Avaloria.” I shook my head feeling my long hair slide across my back. “Eldra is going to come for me to finish taking what she always wanted, and my father, the man I have never met, is bedridden and ill.”

I glanced at the scroll, then at the last candle, with a thought, it flickered into flame without exploding or melting into a puddle.

“Do you believe Vanya is correct? That I need to learn the feeling of the magic siphon to have a chance?”

Mother stood and walked over to me. She hugged me tightly and I melted into her embrace. “I do, sweetheart. Magical energy has a flow and feel to it. The counter to the spell has a similar feel. If nothing else, you will gain more raw magic, but that’s not why you would do this. You do it because she is still bound by her blood oath to not harm you or me directly. But stealing your magic, she will want it because she is power hungry.”

Mother kissed my cheek. “Get some rest, my daughter.”

She left my room, but I could only stare at the scroll. It wasn’t an easy visualization by any means. I doubted I would get any sleep at all.

 

***

 

I paced the length of my room. The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting pale gold across the room, but I barely noticed. It was difficult to stop my thoughts from spinning; about my father, Vanya’s demands, my clumsy attempts at magic, and the dangerous spell I needed to memorize. I rubbed my temples, trying to ease the tension I felt. Sleep had been elusive, each time I closed my eyes, doubts and fears would start swirling all over again. I wanted answers, guidance... anything to make sense of the new world I had been thrust into.

Every breath felt heavier, tangled up in responsibilities I never anticipated. My father, the King of Avaloria... a stranger to me, yet bound to me by blood. He was dying, and I, who had never known him, was supposed to be the answer to his salvation. I paused at the thought, turning to the mirror that stood by the window. For a moment, my own reflection startled me, as if I expected to see Caelan staring back. Instead, Aeliana looked back, her eyes wide and unsure, her long blonde hair loose and cascading over her shoulders. I let my fingers thread through the strands, feeling their softness like a reassurance that I was still real, still here.

It was a strange comfort, the feeling of my transformed body, graceful where I had once been stiff, every movement feeling more natural, more right. I had become what I was always meant to be, but with that change came a new set of responsibilities.

I tugged the curtain aside, letting more sunlight in. It warmed my face, but it did not reach the knot of anxiety in my chest. I needed to practice the visualization technique. My fingers twitched at the thought of it, at the thought of trying to steal magic from another person. The images from the scroll danced behind my eyes, intricate patterns of siphoning energy, of drawing power like pulling threads from fabric. The concept turned my stomach, even though I knew it was necessary. How could I even consider it, after seeing what Eldra had done to my father?

The memory of my mother’s pleading gaze as she wanted me to try if for no other reason than to be prepared for Eldra.

With a sigh, I moved away from the mirror and sat on the edge of the bed. My life as Caelan seemed so far away, the grime and struggle replaced with silks and lace, and I could not help but wonder if any of it had been real. I half expected to wake up back in Avaloria and none of the magic, my transformation, or adventure had occurred.

But it was not a dream. The evidence of my new life surrounded me, the dress and fighting leathers, my own private room, the constant sense of magic humming just beneath my skin. I leaned back, staring at the ceiling with eyes that were too full of wonder and uncertainty to close. If I slept now, what if it all vanished when I woke? What if Aeliana was only a fragile dream, and Caelan was all I would ever be?

I shook my head and forced myself to stand. Dwelling on what-ifs would not help me face the day. I needed to be strong, for myself, for my mother, for the kingdom that already rested its hopes on my shoulders. Today, I would prove to Vanya that I could control my magic, that I could handle whatever this new life demanded of me. I would not let fear keep me frozen, even if I had to push every step through the doubt.

The knock at the bedroom door startled me, breaking the haze of my thoughts. My heart leapt, and I crossed the room in a few quick strides, flinging the door open. Eira stood there, her eyes warm and bright in the morning light spilling through the hall. Relief flooded me, and I felt my shoulders relax a fraction. She took a quick glance over her shoulder towards the distant murmur of voices in the common room, then stepped forward, closing the door behind her. Before I could say anything, she wrapped her arms around me and kissed me, her lips soft and familiar. The warmth of her embrace was like a lifeline.

“Good morning, my princess,” she said softly, her forehead resting against mine. Her smile was both mischievous and tender. “You do not know how hard it was not to sneak in here and... well.” She let the words hang between us, teasing, then pulled back to look at me. Her smile faltered a bit. “Did you sleep at all?”

I kissed her back, quick and reassuring, but there was no hiding the truth. “I did not sleep more than a few minutes.”

Eira’s brow furrowed as she took my hand, guiding me to the edge of the bed. We sat together, the familiar comfort of her presence helping to still the turmoil inside me. She kept her fingers intertwined with mine, her thumb tracing small circles over my knuckles.

“You are worried about Vanya?” she asked, her voice gentle.

I nodded. “That is just one of the things. She expects me to drain her magic today... with control.” I paused. “I am getting better, Eira, but the spell is complicated. If I make one mistake...” I trailed off, not needing to finish the sentence. She knew what was at stake.

Eira’s grip on my hand tightened, and I felt the warmth of her reassurance through that simple touch. Her gaze flickered to the bed, and she let out a sigh, wistful and longing. “I am here to support you, no matter what,” she said, her voice firmer now. “You do not have to face this alone, Aeliana.”

I wanted to lose myself in that promise, to forget about the demands of the day and the burden of magic that I could not fully understand. But I knew what waited for me, what I needed to do. I closed my eyes for a moment, taking strength from her, before I stood and pulled her up with me.

“The others are waiting,” Eira reminded me, a shadow of worry in her eyes, but also a fierce determination that I loved her for.

I nodded, squeezing her hand one last time before letting go. “Then we should not keep them waiting,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. With a deep breath, I grabbed the scroll, and we headed to the common area.

Eira and I stepped into the common room, our fingers still loosely entwined. My mother was the first to greet me, her arms wrapping around me in a warm embrace, and I leaned into her comfort. She kissed my cheek, her smile strained but genuine. As she pulled back, I caught sight of Vanya, who stood apart from the others. The lines on her face were deeper this morning, and there was a shadow in her eyes. I knew what worried her, the risk I posed, the uncertainty of whether she would walk out of this room with her magic still intact.

Alric and Thorne lingered by the table, half-heartedly picking at breakfast. They looked up as we entered, offering silent nods of encouragement. It was hard not to notice how quiet the room felt, the usual buzz of conversation replaced by a sense of uneasy anticipation.

Vanya, always the one to cut straight to the heart of things, cleared her throat. “All right then, let us begin,” she said, her voice firmer than her expression suggested.

I shook my head, my anxiety and curiosity bubbling over. “Wait,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. I swallowed and softened my tone. “I have questions first.” I glanced at my mother, feeling a knot tighten in my chest. “I don’t understand why my father could not heal you. He had so much magic, more than enough to save you, did he not?”

Mother’s expression shifted, a flash of pain crossing her face before she steadied herself. She took a deep breath, her eyes meeting mine with a strange mix of sorrow and resolution. “There is something I have never spoken of before,” she said, her voice low and hesitant, as if she were weighing each word. “There was nothing Cedric could do to heal me, Aeliana. I believe... I believe Eldra cursed me with that illness, and only her magic could break it.”

I stared at her, the realization hitting me like a physical blow. “So... it was a trap?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

“Yes,” Mother said, her gaze distant, lost in memories that still haunted her. “It was the perfect way for her to get what she truly wanted, your father’s magic. And once she had it, there was no way for him to help me.”

Alric stepped forward then, his voice calm and measured, breaking the heavy silence. “Using magic to heal, Aeliana, can be done with raw power like you have, but for those of us with less magic... it is different,” he explained. “We must be careful, precise, when we heal. It is not just about pouring magic into the wound; it is about understanding what lies beneath the skin.”

I looked at him, feeling the depth of his knowledge in the quiet confidence he carried. “What do you mean?” I asked.

“Healing a wound, for instance, requires more than just closing it. If I do not understand the human body, if I do not know how the muscles, the veins, the organs all work together, I could seal a wound on the surface and leave the damage festering beneath. Healing requires precision, knowing which parts need attention first, how much energy to use, and how to avoid causing harm.”

I nodded slowly, feeling a strange kinship with him in that moment, both of us caught between the raw power I had barely begun to master and the delicate balance he had learned through years of experience.

“It is why your father struggled,” Mother added softly, her voice heavy with regret. “He had power, yes, but not the skill to wield it in the way I needed to seek out the blocking curse before healing me. And Eldra knew that. She knew he would fail, and she knew that I... that he would be desperate enough to try anything.”

Vanya stepped forward, her eyes locked on mine, and I could see the determination there, fierce and unyielding. “This is why we need to continue, Aeliana. You must understand what you are capable of, what Eldra will try to do to you. This is not just about power, it is about control. And we cannot afford any more surprises. Mark my words, you are the only thing that can stop her from taking over Avaloria and becoming queen over the entire continent. From what I understand about the blood oath, she will be forbidden to take your life directly, but while you have life and magic, she will try to take your magic. I will try to stop you from taking my magic so that I can teach you how to protect yourself.”

Vanya's gaze settled on the scroll she had unrolled across the table, fingers tracing the faded ink as if it held some secret she had missed. She looked up at me, eyes sharp with expectation. “Have you prepared?" she asked.

I hesitated, and my thoughts churned, racing through the steps of what I was about to attempt. I had been preparing, drilling the visualization over and over until it was as familiar as I could make it without doing it, but doubt still gnawed at me. There were too many ways it could go wrong, too many threads I could miss, and if I did, the consequences would be catastrophic for both me and the person I tried to take magic from. It was extremely dangerous. Eldra had not hesitated when she drained my father's magic, but the price had been steep; Cedric was left with nothing, a shadow of who he had once been. Syphoning was dark magic because it did not just take, it left the person hollow, drained, the life bled out of them until they were only a husk.

But I had practiced my visualizations, had forced myself to look deeper, to see the layers of magic for what they were, a living, twisting network, bound up in the soul of the one who wielded it. I had learned to visualize it as light and shadow, to follow the currents without disturbing the delicate balance that kept it whole. I could feel the way the strands tied themselves to emotions, memories, and the very essence of life. I would need to be perfect, I told myself. This was not about power or strength; it was about control, precision, finesse.

I swallowed hard and looked back at Vanya. “I have prepared,” I said, feeling the words leave my lips like a promise I was not certain I could keep. “I am ready.”

She nodded once, her face unreadable. “Then do it.”

My mouth went dry, and I took a breath, willing my heart to slow its frantic beat. I closed my eyes and began the process, drawing my focus inward until the room faded away, leaving only the steady rhythm of my own breath. The strands of magic formed in my mind, each one a thread of light, tightly woven together. I pictured them wrapped around Vanya’s core, pulsing gently with her life force, each one as delicate and dangerous as a live wire.

When I opened my eyes again, I could feel the magic humming beneath my skin, waiting, restless. I reached for it, careful to keep my hand steady as I extended it toward her. The air felt heavy, electric, as if the whole room was holding its breath. I touched my magic, felt it flare to life, and saw Vanya’s eyes widen. I did not let myself hesitate. I pushed my awareness outward, sinking into the visualization until I could feel her magic.

It was warm, bright, like sunlight filtered through a thick canopy of leaves. I saw it, the web of threads that bound it to her, some tangled and knotted, others smooth and strong, tied to memories and emotions I could not begin to understand. My instincts urged me to pull, to tug at the threads and take the power I needed, but I forced myself to go slow, to follow the lines with a delicate touch.

Vanya gasped, and I felt the rush of her magic surge toward me. I could feel her resistance, her will rising to block me, to keep her magic from slipping away. For a moment, the pressure was unbearable, a torrent of raw energy battering at the edges of my consciousness, threatening to break my focus. But I did not let go.

I adjusted the visualization, weaving the strands in my mind, disentangling them with a deftness I had not known I possessed. It was a dance, a balance between my will and hers, my magic coaxing hers to surrender without breaking it. I felt her strength waver, and I pulled, just enough to draw the threads away from the core that anchored them.

As the magic flooded into me, I felt a rush of power. There was a moment I wanted to take it all, but I forced myself to untangle my magic from hers and stopped. The magic settled in my core, pooling there like liquid fire as I severed the magic completely. Vanya’s breath hitched, her eyes half-closed as she swayed.

I still felt the lingering warmth of her magic in my veins, a strange and alien sensation, like a foreign heartbeat pulsing within me. It was smaller than I had expected, just a taste of what she had held, but it was enough to make my own magic feel bloated, swollen with borrowed power. I looked at Vanya, half expecting to see her crumple, to wither as my father had when Eldra had torn his magic away. But she stood, pale and shaken, the lines of strain etched deep into her face.

Her voice was barely a whisper, hoarse and fragile. “You were able to stop.”

“Yes,” I said, my own voice sounding distant and strange to my ears. “I did.”

For a long moment, no one moved. The room was still, the air thick with the weight of what had just happened. I could feel the extra power inside me, waiting to be used,

Vanya gave a slow, tired nod. “You did well, Aeliana,” she said, though there was something in her eyes that looked close to relief... or maybe fear.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and sat back, the room coming back into focus as if waking from a dream. For the first time, I understood why syphoning was called dark magic, why it was forbidden, why those who mastered it were feared. It was not the act itself that was evil, it was the knowledge that I could take a piece of someone’s soul and make it mine, and the temptation to do so without stopping. The sensation of power, of feeling the rush of another’s magic flow into me, was intoxicating. But I had stopped.

Vanya’s eyes fluttered closed as she steadied herself, one hand gripping the back of a chair for balance. I watched her, my own breath shallow, feeling the added magic, that was accessible to me, but strangely foreign. Knowing how magic tied itself to the soul of a person made sense that the magic I had taken didn’t quite feel like my own.

Vanya took a moment, her face drawn with fatigue, then she looked up and met my gaze, her expression softer than I had expected. “I can feel the loss of some of my magic,” she said, voice low and unsteady. “But you stopped before taking too much. Thank you.” She swallowed, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips, though it did not reach her eyes. “I tried several ways to stop you, Aeliana. I put up barriers, I pushed back, I even tried to confuse the threads... but you were too strong. You did it, stopped on your own.” Her words trailed off, and she took a slow, deliberate breath. “Give me some time to process everything. You and I can meet again soon.”

She slipped out of the room before I could respond, her steps slow and deliberate, as if each one required more effort than the last. The door clicked shut behind her, and I was left standing in the sudden stillness, my thoughts a tangled mess of emotions I could not quite unravel. Relief warred with guilt, triumph with unease. I had succeeded, but there was something hollow about the victory, a sense that I had crossed a line, even if I had been asked to cross that line.

I sank into a chair, my hands still trembling, and tried to ignore the way my skin felt warmer, the magic inside me thrumming like a heartbeat that was not my own. The others had fallen silent, watching me, and I wondered what they saw, what they thought of the power I had stolen, even if it had been for a purpose. Did they see a glimpse of what Eldra had done to my father, or something else, something darker?

Mother was the first to move, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around me. Her embrace was gentle but firm, grounding me during my swirling thoughts. She pressed a kiss to my temple, and I leaned into her warmth, grateful for the steady presence.

“You did what needed to be done,” she said quietly, her voice carrying a note of certainty I did not yet feel. “But there is no time to linger on it now.”

I pulled back and looked at her, seeing the resolve in her eyes. She glanced around the room, her gaze lingering on each of us, and I knew that whatever doubts I harbored, she would not allow them to slow us down.

“We need to leave for Avaloria tomorrow morning,” she announced, her tone firm and decisive. “There is no more time to waste. Whatever questions remain will have to wait until we are safely within the city walls.”

Thorne’s brow furrowed as he glanced at Alric, but neither of them spoke. Eira nodded but was a little pale.

Mother continued. “None of you will need to worry about the guards. You will be honored as heroes. You can stay in the palace, but there is more for us to do. Aeliana’s magic will begin to heal Avaloria as soon as she enters the kingdom. I know some of you will want to be free to do what you wish, but I ask you to stay close, at least for a short time. Gather your things.”

I nodded, feeling the resolve harden within me, though my stomach churned with the bitter taste of uncertainty. Tomorrow, we would be on the road to Avaloria, and I would face whatever awaited me there.

 

***

 

The rest of the previous day passed in a blur of activity and anticipation, each moment filled with the thoughts of what lay ahead. I had spent the afternoon with my mother, who insisted on a quiet walk through the city to calm my nerves. She did not say much, but her presence was a steadying force, a reminder that I was not alone, even as the pressure of my responsibilities loomed.

Training with Thorne had been grueling, every strike and movement sharpened by the urgency of our timeline. He pushed me harder than he ever had before, and I found myself meeting his challenges with a determination I had not known I possessed. My body ached by the end of it, but the ache felt purposeful, a sign of strength hard-won.

Later, Alric had walked me through the finer points of controlling my magic, the two of us seated by the flickering glow of dozens of candles. He had a way of explaining the threads of magic that made them seem almost tangible, and I had managed to weave magic with a precision I had never thought possible. I could feel my confidence growing, even as my doubts lingered at the edges.

And then there was Eira. We had stolen away for a few precious moments as the evening darkened, her eyes full of concern as she spoke of the thieves’ guild. Her fear was for herself, for the complications that might arise if the guild chose to seek their revenge on Eira for leaving them. I had tried to reassure her, but the worry in her eyes never fully faded, even as we held each other close.

The following day, we gathered at the base of the cliffs. The sea was calm, its surface catching the light like shards of glass, and the boat that would take us back to Ishwan-dek rocked gently against the stone. Mother stood beside me, speaking quietly with Thorne and Alric as we prepared to board. Eira was close, her gaze distant as if scanning the horizon for unseen threats.

We were almost ready to leave when I saw Vanya making her way down the steep steps toward us, her dark robes fluttering in the breeze. I straightened, feeling a rush of emotions, gratitude, respect, and a hint of the guilt that still lingered from what I had taken from her. She approached with a solemn expression, but her eyes held a warmth I had not expected.

“I am sorry I did not meet with you yesterday, Aeliana,” she said, her voice soft but clear. She extended a folded piece of parchment, her fingers lingering on it for a moment before I took it. “I have written down my thoughts, strategies, techniques, things that might help you when you face Eldra. Read it carefully.”

I nodded, clutching the parchment tightly, and whispered my thanks. Vanya’s gaze shifted to my mother, and her expression grew more serious. “I heard word from our scouts,” she said, and the air around us seemed to chill. “Eldra is on the move with her army. If our estimates are correct, she could reach Avaloria’s border in less than ten days. Be prepared.”

Mother’s face remained calm, but I saw the flicker of concern in her eyes as she pulled Vanya into a tight embrace. “We will be ready,” she promised, and her words were as much for me as they were for Vanya. I could feel the unspoken fears between them, the uncertainty of what would happen when we returned to Avaloria and the shadow of Eldra’s approach that hung over us all.

When Mother released her, I stepped forward, wrapping my arms around Vanya. It was a brief embrace, hesitant but genuine. I could feel her tension ease, if only slightly, and I hoped that my gesture conveyed the gratitude I could not yet put into words.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

Vanya nodded, a faint smile touching her lips before she stepped back. “Be safe, Aeliana. And be swift.”

With that, she turned and made her way back up the steps, her form growing smaller with each step until she disappeared. I stood there for a moment, the parchment crinkling in my grip.

“Come,” my mother said, her voice steady as she touched my arm. “It is time to go.”

We boarded the boat, the pilot worked with quiet efficiency as they pushed off from the shore. The cliffs rose behind us, stark and imposing against the morning light. The ride to Ishwan-dek was tranquil, the still before the storm.

 

***

 

We pushed our horses hard, racing toward Dunlevy with the urgency of the storm gathering behind us. It was well past nightfall when we finally reached the familiar village. I was exhausted, but I felt a pulse of anticipation as we approached the inn we had stayed in before, back when I was still Caelan. So much had changed since then, and stepping inside felt like walking into another lifetime.

As we entered the inn, I caught the sudden shift in the room. Conversations quieted, and a sea of curious and suspicious eyes turned toward us. I had expected some attention, my appearance alone was enough to draw stares, but it was worse than I anticipated. It was not just Eira this time; it was me, with my striking presence that seemed to ripple through the crowd.

We moved toward an empty table near the back, the others keeping close, but before we could sit, a heavy hand closed around my wrist. My heart lurched as I looked up, recognizing the man who towered over me. He was larger than I remembered, or maybe I was simply smaller now. The wide set of his shoulders cast a shadow, and his thick fingers gripped my arm with a painful force.

“That’s my sword you are carrying,” he growled, his face contorting with the same malicious arrogance I had seen before. “You are a thief.”

His accusation rang out, loud enough to make heads turn. Eira’s eyes flashed, and her dagger appeared in her hand faster than I could blink. Thorne had already shifted forward, his posture radiating silent menace. I didn’t flinch; instead, I looked up into the man’s face, meeting his anger with a steady gaze.

“I am no thief,” I said calmly. “You willingly gave this sword to a friend of mine, who then gave it to me.”

His eyes darkened, and a vicious sneer spread across his face. “You are a thief,” he repeated, his grip tightening painfully around my wrist. “And for that, you will not only give me my sword back... you will come to my bed as punishment.”

Eira’s snarl was low and dangerous, her blade poised to strike, but I held up my free hand, stopping her. My heart pounded, but I forced myself to stand tall, lifting my chin. I felt the tension in the room, every stare pinned on me as if the entire inn was holding its breath.

“I am Aeliana,” I said, my voice steady and unbroken, “the lost Princess of Avaloria. You will unhand me and leave me and my friends alone.”

He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then threw his head back and laughed, a deep, mocking bellow that cut through the quiet. “Princess, you say?” he mocked, leaning closer until his breath brushed my face. “This is my town. I can have fifty men in here in a minute, ready to drag you out by your pretty hair. Do you think you scare me?”

The threat gave me pause, but I refused to back down. “If you have fifty men, call them,” I said evenly, refusing to drop my gaze. “I am not hiding.”

I focused on the man’s hand, my pulse steadying as I gathered the faintest thread of magic, a hum beneath my skin. It wasn’t just about control, it was about will and visualization. His grip tightened around my wrist, but I focused harder, sending a pulse of magic through my wrist and into his hand. The response was immediate, sharp and sudden. The man screamed, a terrible, guttural sound that filled the room. His fingers recoiled as if burned, his hand blistering from the force of my magic. He stumbled backward, his eyes wide with shock, but I wasn’t finished.

With a flick of my wrist, the man was suddenly lifted off his feet, his legs kicking uselessly in the air. The entire inn went silent. I could feel every eye in the room, every breath held. The power of my magic very visible.

I took a single, slow step forward, and the man floated back from me, helpless and caught in the current of my power. His blustering arrogance had been replaced by pure panic.

“I am no thief,” I said, my voice clear and firm. “And if you think threatening me, threatening us, will get you what you want, think again.”

With another flick of my fingers, the door to the inn swung open with a force that echoed through the room. The crowd stiffened, but no one moved as I focused my energy on the man. The pressure of my magic pushed him out of the inn with little more than a thought. His body crashed into the muddy puddle outside with a resounding thud, the splash of water marking the end of his bravado.

The air around me buzzed with the raw energy that crackled beneath my skin. I was shaking internally, not from fear, but from the sheer power I had just wielded so effortlessly, and it had only been the tiniest fraction of what was available to me. Enough power to protect a kingdom.

Eira’s warm hand slipped into mine, pulling me from my thoughts. She smiled, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, her fingers curling gently around mine. “Princess Aeliana,” she said softly, her voice a contrast to the storm I felt brewing inside me. “Let’s eat.”

 

***

 

The morning light was still soft as we mounted our horses and set out from Dunlevy, the air crisp with the scent of the earth after a long night’s rain. The roads were quiet as we rode in silence. My hands gripped the reins of my horse, my mind still tangled from the events of the previous day. Magic was an unsettling thing, and now that I had wielded it so freely, I couldn’t quite shake the feeling of how easy it would be to become a tyrant like Eldra.

Mother rode ahead, her posture regal, her expression unreadable as always. After a long pause, she spoke, her voice cutting through the morning air.

“We are near the border with Avaloria,” she began, her tone calm, almost distant. “Once we cross, Aeliana's passive magic will connect with the land itself. It will start to work, slowly but surely, to restore the kingdom. You will feel it, Aeliana. It’s not immediate, but it’s steady.”

My heart quickened at her words. The idea of my magic weaving itself into the very land was both an honor and a burden. The kingdom had been waiting for me to restore it.

“We will make a direct route to the palace,” Mother continued, her eyes scanning the road ahead. “We will come up to a guard post. They will recognize me immediately. I will be expected, but they will likely still be looking for all of you.” Her gaze flickered briefly back to me.

“We may need to share the news multiple times as we head to the palace, news of our lost princess and that you all were instrumental in finding her. I’m not going to absolve you,” she added, her tone sharp, her eyes locking with mine. “Because that suggests you have been criminals. You haven’t. But we’re going to make that clear to them when we reach the captain of the guards. Not before.”

There was no softness in her words, but they weren’t harsh either. She wasn’t going to sugarcoat things, and I understood. There were no shortcuts to this path. It would be a slow, painful process of revealing truths, but it had to be done. The truth had its own way of coming to light, no matter how long it took.

“Our focus,” Mother said, turning her gaze forward once more, “is getting to the palace. Once we are there, we can deal with everything else.”

I nodded, trying to steady the whirlwind inside me. She was right. The palace was the goal. There, my ailing father, the King of Avaloria awaited me.

The moment we crossed the threshold into Avaloria, a wave of energy washed over me, something I had never experienced before. It was like the way my magic moved, but not exactly. It was as if the kingdom itself had felt my presence and groaned in response, a deep, collective sigh that resonated through the very ground beneath me. The air seemed heavier, filled with almost two decades of untended wounds and forgotten promises. But there was also a quiet hum, something gentle and eager, as though the land was waking up, slowly, cautiously.

I gasped, unable to hold back the rush of sensation. It wasn’t a drain on me, not like how using my magic could be. It was something else entirely. I was more than a conduit for the magic, I was a bridge, a link between the land and its lost power. The magic inside me didn’t change, but I could feel it as a living thing now, woven into the fabric of Avaloria itself.

I stopped my horse, allowing the reins to fall loose as I dismounted. The others continued for a moment, not noticing at first, but then Eira was by my side, her gaze concerned. I stepped toward the side of the road, where a wilting flower, its petals curled in on themselves, seemed to call to me. Without thinking, I reached for it. My fingers brushed the fragile stem, and I felt the pulse of life respond to my touch. Slowly, slowly, the flower began to bloom, its petals unfurling as if they, too, had been waiting for this moment. I could feel the kingdom in it, its longing, its exhaustion, but also its hope.

Eira’s voice broke the stillness, filled with awe. “You are incredible,” she whispered, taking a step closer to me, her hand gently grasping mine. She kissed me, a soft, tender thing that lingered longer than it needed to, reminding me of the bond we shared.

“I just want to remind you,” Eira said, her voice light, teasing even as it held an undercurrent of seriousness, “that you are mine, before this whole princess thing causes you to forget about me.”

A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, my heart swelling with the simple truth of her words. I cupped her face in my hands, gazing into her eyes, feeling the immense love I had for Eira.

“I will never forget about you,” I whispered, my voice steady and sure. “I love you.”

Her lips met mine again, and this time it was deeper, full of the promise that no matter what would come with this new life, we would face it together. I could feel the pull of our love, stronger than the pull of the kingdom beneath me.

Reluctantly, we broke apart, and Eira gave me a soft smile before I got back onto my horse. We continued our journey, our path winding deeper into Avaloria, where the land seemed to hum with new life at my every step.

 

***

 

We rode into the clearing where the guard post stood. My heart hammered in my chest, and I could feel the tension radiating from everyone around me. Mother, her chin held high and her gaze fierce, led the way. The guards moved to block our path as soon as they saw us, their armor clinking as they drew their swords. The sharp sound of metal against leather made my stomach churn.

“Stop where you are!” one of the guards barked. They stepped forward, hands on their hilts, eyes narrowed with suspicion until they recognized their queen. “My Queen.” They bowed in unison.

Things looked better for us and then their eyes fell on Eira, her bright red hair unmistakable even in the dappled forest light. Their expressions hardened.

“Have these criminals held you captive, my Queen?” the leader demanded, his voice thick with anger. The men edged closer, blades gleaming in the twilight. Eira’s hand hovered near her dagger, but Mother raised her hand calmly, silencing the guards before they could get any closer.

“I am not captive,” Mother said, her tone commanding and clear. “These are no criminals. They are heroes who have helped me find my daughter.” She pointed to me, and I felt every eye shift in my direction. “This is your princess, Aeliana.”

The guards’ faces went pale, their eyes widening in disbelief. There was a long, tense silence before they dropped to their knees, bowing low, heads almost touching the ground. It felt surreal, seeing these armored men who had once hunted us now kneeling at our feet. I wasn’t sure whether to feel triumphant or terrified.

“Stand,” Mother commanded, and the guards quickly rose to their feet, still staring at me as if they couldn’t quite believe what they were seeing.

“An army is coming,” Mother continued, her voice ringing out with authority. “Eldra's forces are on the move. Scouts could arrive even before the main army, and you must be ever vigilant. The safety of this kingdom depends on it.”

One of the younger guards, barely more than a boy, swallowed hard. “If there's an army coming, are we safe here, my Queen? And why are you headed south, to the palace, when the threat lies to the north?”

Mother’s eyes were calm, steady. “We are not running from this fight,” she said, her gaze never wavering. “We are preparing for it. We will return to face Eldra when the time is right. For now, our goal is to ensure the kingdom is whole, to bring strength back to where it has been lost.”

The guards exchanged uneasy glances, but they said nothing more. One by one, they stepped aside, clearing the path for us. As we rode through the post, I could feel their eyes burning into my back, lingering on me with a mixture of awe and uncertainty.

I didn’t dare look back, but I knew what they were thinking. They had watched the kingdom falter under my father’s loss of magic, had seen the land weaken and break. Now, they were watching a girl who was a stranger to them, a story everyone had heard a thousand times before, riding south as if the weight of Avaloria’s future rested on her shoulders.

Because it did.

 

***

 

By the time we reached the palace stables, the journey felt endless. As we passed each guard, we had to stop and explain who I was, who we all were, and why we were riding hard for the palace. Half a dozen times, my mother spoke of finding her daughter, the rightful princess of Avaloria, and each time, I watched disbelief turn to shock, then to tentative acceptance. It was like witnessing a kingdom waking from a long sleep, slowly understanding that the past was being rewritten right before their eyes.

The palace loomed over us as we approached, its high stone walls gleaming in the fading light. We handed off our horses to the stable hands, who gawked and whispered among themselves, and our small team followed Mother through the grand entryway. My boots echoed sharply on the marble floors, the sound swallowed by the vast space.

I stopped, staring up at the soaring arches above, marveling at the way the light caught the delicate frescoes that covered every inch of the ceiling. They depicted Avaloria’s history, battles, celebrations, and moments of peace frozen in paint. Rich tapestries lined the walls, telling stories I had only heard in fragments, and everything seemed to glow with a kind of soft, warm light that made it hard to breathe.

This was home?

I had never had a real home. Never had a family. Never had a place where I felt safe or that I could call mine. Now, I stood in the grandest building on the continent, and my mother, the Queen of Avaloria, was beside me, her hands warm as she took mine in hers.

“Welcome home, my daughter,” she said, her voice tender and a little unsteady. “Aeliana, Princess of Avaloria.”

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but then I saw them.

A cluster of figures hurried down the hall toward us. At the front was a man in ornate armor, the captain of the palace guard, followed by a handful of palace staff who moved with the practiced efficiency of those who had served royalty for years. They stopped a few paces away, bowing low to Mother, their faces a mixture of relief and reverence.

“Your Majesty,” the captain said as he straightened, his eyes flicking from Mother to me with open curiosity. But then he saw Eira, standing slightly behind me, and his gaze hardened. His hand went to the hilt of his sword, but he didn’t draw it. I felt Eira stiffen at my side, her fingers brushing mine for reassurance.

The captain turned back to Mother, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Queen Lisandra, welcome home,” he said carefully, his eyes never quite leaving Eira. “But may I ask... who is this company you bring to the palace? These are the criminals we have been hunting.”

A faint, knowing smile played on Mother's lips, and she squeezed my hands before letting go, stepping forward to address the captain. “You have nothing to fear, Captain. These are not criminals, but the people who helped me find what I had thought lost forever.” She looked back at me, her eyes shining with pride. “My daughter has been found.”

The captain’s mouth fell open, his eyes darting from me to Mother, and then back again, as if he couldn’t quite process the words. The palace staff, who had been standing silently behind him, began to murmur among themselves, their shock barely contained.

“And as for Eira and the others,” Mother continued, her voice growing firm, “they are no threat to this kingdom. They have proven themselves, time and again, to be loyal to the royal family. I would ask you to show them the same respect you would any guest of honor.”

The captain's jaw tightened, and I could see the war of emotions flickering across his face, duty, uncertainty, and the undeniable instinct to protect. His gaze lingered on me, the distrust still evident, but he did not challenge Mother’s words.

“As you say, Your Majesty,” he said, bowing his head. “If they are under your protection, then they are welcome here.”

Mother moved with the surety of a queen returned to her domain, her voice sharp and clear as she relayed her commands. She turned first to the captain, who was still struggling to absorb everything that had just unfolded.

“Captain Malcom,” she said, her tone leaving no room for hesitation, “we have little time. Eldra’s army is advancing, and we must be vigilant. I need scouts dispatched immediately, watching the borders and tracking their progress. They are to report back with all developments, no matter how small.”

The captain nodded, bowing low, his expression hardening into one of determination as he accepted the order. “At once, Your Majesty. I will personally see to it.”

Mother didn’t wait for him to turn and leave, already addressing the palace staff gathered just behind him. Her presence was commanding, and I watched as they straightened, hanging on her every word.

“Prepare dinner for us all,” she instructed briskly. “We will dine together this evening. We have travelled long and hard today to arrive tonight and everyone is hungry. Aeliana’s room must be made ready. Also, send for the seamstress; she is to meet with us after dinner to begin crafting a wardrobe fit for my daughter.”

I stood quietly beside her, feeling a bit meeker with each command she issued. The staff hurried to obey, nodding and murmuring their agreement, clearly eager to be of service.

“The others,” she continued, gesturing to Eira, Thorne, and Alric, “will need accommodations as well. Take them to the guest suites. See to their needs, ensure their clothes are cleaned, provide them with fresh garments, and make certain they have baths drawn. They are to be treated as honored guests of the crown.”

A ripple of acknowledgment went through the staff, and they bustled off to set things in motion. I couldn’t help but glance at Eira, who looked a little overwhelmed by the sudden rush of activity. She caught my eye and gave me a small, reassuring smile, but I could see the uncertainty lurking beneath it. Thorne, however, stood tall, his face impassive, while Alric seemed lost in thought.

Finally, Mother turned back to me, her eyes softening. She placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, and I felt the warmth of her reassurance, grounding me in the moment.

“Come, Aeliana,” she said quietly, her voice softer now that the immediate chaos had passed. “It is time we see your father. He has waited long enough.”

The mention of him made my heart quicken, and a flood of questions rushed to the forefront of my mind. What would he say when he saw me? Mother’s eyes held mine, and she offered a gentle smile, as if she sensed my fears.

“I am with you,” she said simply, her hand tightening on my shoulder for a moment before she let go.

I took a deep breath and nodded. Together, we turned down the grand corridor, the palace seeming to come alive with each step, and behind us, the preparations for a royal homecoming moved at a frantic pace.

The sight of the palace, with its sweeping hallways and gilded decor, tugged at something deep within me, a strange mix of awe and discomfort. I had never seen such wealth before, and every step across the thick carpets underfoot felt foreign, like I was walking in someone else’s dream. This was supposed to be home, but all I could think about was Eira, somewhere behind me, surrounded by comfort while I approached a different kind of uncertainty. She would be soaking in a hot bath, being treated like royalty, while I was about to meet the father I had never known.

Mother led the way, her steps purposeful and sure. I followed, feeling smaller with each turn down the opulent corridors, beneath chandeliers that glimmered with magical light that seemed to brighten as I passed beneath them. Then we reached a set of towering double doors, carved with intricate designs that seemed to shift in the dim light. Mother paused just long enough to glance back at me before she pushed them open.

The first thing I noticed was the smell, the heavy scent of sickness that seemed to cling to the very air. I hesitated, lingering in the doorway as Mother strode inside and waved the attendants away. They slipped past me, avoiding my gaze, their faces drawn with the weariness of long service. The room was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn tight against the windows.

Mother closed the doors behind us with a soft, but firm click. My heart pounded as I watched her move to the bed, to the small, frail figure lying against a pile of pillows. He was almost lost among the heavy blankets, his body wasted and thin, a shell of a man who had once ruled a kingdom. His breaths were labored, each one a wheezing effort, and I fought the urge to step back, to flee.

She leaned down and kissed his brow, her fingers gentle as she smoothed back the hair that had thinned and turned gray. “I’m home, my king,” she said, her voice filled with a tenderness I had never heard from her before.

King Cedric’s eyes fluttered open, and in that moment, I saw the man he must have once been, the strength and pride that had not quite been snuffed out by time or illness. His gaze locked onto hers, and a weak, strained smile curved his lips. There was such raw, unguarded love in his eyes that it made my chest ache, a yearning I didn’t fully understand tightening within me. This was a king that sacrificed everything for the love of his wife.

He coughed, a deep, rattling sound that shook his frail frame, but his expression remained soft as he looked up at her. “Lisandra,” he managed to whisper, his voice barely more than a rasp, yet carrying a warmth that I had never associated with the name of Avaloria’s king.

I stood frozen near the door, the distance between us feeling like a chasm. I did not belong in this room with its warmth and intimacy, in this life that I had only just stepped into. But Mother turned, and with a gentle motion, she beckoned me forward. My legs felt like lead, but I forced them to move, one step at a time, until I was at her side, staring down at the man who was supposed to be my father.

“This,” she said softly, her voice carrying a note of pride, “is Aeliana, our daughter.”

The king’s eyes, dulled by illness, sharpened at the words. He blinked, staring at me as if trying to see something familiar in my face. I held my breath, unsure of what to say, unsure of what he expected to find.

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, his hand, frail and trembling, lifted from the bed. I hesitated, then took a step closer, slowly reaching out until my fingers brushed his. His grip was weak, but I could feel the faint squeeze, and something in his eyes shifted, recognition, acceptance, or perhaps hope.

“Daughter,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving mine. “You came home.”

I swallowed, the words sticking in my throat. It felt too soon to call this place home, to call him father, but I nodded. “Yes,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I came home.”

His eyes closed, and he let out a long, shuddering breath, as if a weight had been lifted from him. Mother’s hand slipped into mine, squeezing it gently as we both watched him, each of us carrying a different burden in that moment.

I stood there, staring down at my father, and the reality of it all hit me like a flood. This was the man Eldra had stolen everything from, the man whose absence had defined the emptiness I carried my whole life. She had taken him from me, taken us from each other, and robbed me of a family I had never known I needed but had desperately wanted. The force of that realization crushed me, and before I knew it, a sob tore from my throat, and I fell forward, crumpling across his frail, bony chest. Tears poured down my face, soaking the blankets that covered him.

Mother’s arms encircled me, her warmth enveloping me as she, too, began to weep. Her grip was fierce, and I could feel her shaking, the years of pain and loneliness spilling out between us. We were tangled together, mourning everything that had been stolen, holding onto the man who was at the heart of it all.

Between my sobs, I felt my magic stirring, rising from the depths of my grief. It reached out, instinctively searching, seeking what was broken. My fingers pressed against his chest, and I let my magic flow into him, slipping past his fragile skin, diving deep where no healer’s hands could reach. My breath caught as I found it, something dark and insidious, tangled around the essence of who he was. A curse, ancient and vile, gnawing away at his life force. My magic recoiled, but I held it steady, recognizing the familiar taint that clung to it.

It was hers. It was Eldra’s.

A cold rage burned away my grief, and I focused, following the threads of the curse as they wove through my father’s being. I saw the way it had wormed its way into him, little by little, a slow, choking rot that had consumed him from the inside out. I would not let it stay. I could not let it stay. With a furious, choked cry, I poured my magic into those threads and ripped them loose.

The curse fought back, burning and twisting in my grip, but I didn’t care. My anger, my pain, my desperate need to make things right fueled me, and I shredded the darkness with a raw force I had never felt before. The curse tore away in a shower of sparks, dissolving into nothing, leaving behind only the damage it had wrought. My father’s body convulsed, and I heard him gasp, a rasping, shuddering intake of breath.

“Hold on,” I whispered, my voice hoarse and thick with tears. “Hold on, please.”

The threads of my magic shifted, flowing from destruction to healing. I pushed every ounce of strength I had into him, weaving warmth and light where the curse had been, mending what I could, giving him back what had been stolen. His breath steadied, and I watched, my heart pounding, as the color slowly returned to his face. The hollows beneath his eyes seemed to soften, and his skin no longer looked like thin, crumpled paper.

His eyes fluttered open, and they were different, clearer, no longer clouded with the curse of Eldra’s shadow. He stared up at me, his gaze sharp and aware, and I felt his fingers tighten around mine with a strength I had not felt before.

“Aeliana,” he breathed, his voice stronger than it had been, the rasp almost gone. His eyes, now so piercingly blue, locked onto mine, and I saw a flicker of recognition that made my heart clench.

I choked back a sob, my hands still glowing with the remnants of healing light, and I let the tears fall freely as I leaned over him, unable to stop the relief that crashed over me. His presence was solid now, the curse banished, and he was alive. He was here. My father was here, and the dark power that had poisoned him was gone.

Beside me, Mother’s sobs turned to gasps of hope, her hands trembling as she reached for him, and he turned his gaze to her. I saw the love that filled his expression, saw the life that had been hidden behind layers of illness and despair.

“Lisandra,” he whispered.

She smiled through her tears, leaning down to cradle his face in her hands, and for the first time, I saw her as something more than a queen, she was a woman, a wife, and a mother, who had fought through grief and darkness to bring us all back together.

I felt my magic fade, my strength returning to my own limbs, and I drew back, wiping the tears from my face. The anger I had felt was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, but it was tempered now by the hope that had bloomed in its place. I had taken one step toward undoing the harm Eldra had caused, but it was only the beginning.

Father’s gaze turned back to me, and his lips curved into the faintest smile. “You saved me,” he said softly, his voice full of wonder, and I felt a warmth I had never known settle in my chest.

“Yes,” I said, my voice steadying as I looked back at him. “I did. Everything but return your magic. When Eldra took your magic, she left a curse to slowly kill you and the place where your magic would be… it’s void, it can never be returned.”

My father’s eyes, clearer now, narrowed slightly, as if he were piecing together fragments of a shattered puzzle. “A curse, you say, Aeliana?” he asked, his voice hoarse but steadier than it had been moments ago.

I nodded. “Yes. I could feel it, woven into your very being. It was old and strong, meant to drain you slowly until there was nothing left. I think that’s why nothing worked, no healer’s touch, no magic, not even the herbs could stop it.”

His expression darkened, a shadow passing over his eyes, and he muttered a curse against Eldra, the woman who had nearly stolen everything. “That witch,” he spat, his fingers curling into the blankets as a flash of anger lit his gaze. “She took everything from us. My daughter... my Aeliana. I had given up hope that you still lived. Where were you? All these years...”

I swallowed hard. How could I condense a lifetime of being Caelan, orphaned, loneliness, and the desperate search for belonging into a few words? And now, with Eldra’s threat looming over us like a storm cloud, there was no time for the answers he deserved.

“It’s a long story, Father,” I said gently, feeling the tightness in my throat as I forced the words out. “But Eldra is coming. She’s bringing an army to seize control of Avaloria. We don’t have much time.”

His eyes widened, and he struggled to sit up, shoving the blankets away with renewed urgency. The movement revealed just how frail he still was, his arms trembling with the effort even though my magic continued to strengthen him. When he realized he was not dressed for an audience, his face reddened slightly, and he hesitated. “I need to... I must...”

“Get dressed,” I finished for him, managing a small smile despite the whirlwind of emotions churning inside me. “I will give you and Mother a moment. I will be right outside.”

As I moved to leave, his hand shot out, gripping mine with surprising strength. “Don’t go far,” he said, his voice almost pleading, as if he feared I might vanish the moment he looked away.

“I won’t,” I promised, squeezing his hand before slipping free of his grasp. I turned and walked to the door, stepping outside and closing it softly behind me.

The hallway was brighter than I remembered, as if my father’s presence had lifted a shadow that I had not realized was there. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but before I could gather my thoughts, I felt curious stares upon me.

Several palace staff had gathered, waiting to take care of their king. They looked at me with a mixture of confusion and curiosity, their gazes flitting between the closed door and my face. One of them, a maid with a bundle of linens in her arms, stepped forward hesitantly.

“Who... who are you?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, as if she did not quite believe I was real.

I straightened, squaring my shoulders. “I am Aeliana,” I said, my voice stronger than I felt. “The lost Princess of Avaloria.”

There was a moment of stunned silence, and then they scrambled, nearly tripping over themselves as they bowed awkwardly, their words tumbling over one another in a jumble of apologies and reverent gratitude. Their sudden change in demeanor made my cheeks burn, and I shifted uneasily, feeling completely out of place in my own home.

“Please,” I said, raising a hand to stop them, “there’s no need for that.” I glanced back at the door I had just closed, my mind still half with my parents. “Just... give them some time. Let the king and queen be alone for a few moments. Do not disturb them, no matter what.”

The maid nodded quickly, clutching her bundle of linens to her chest as if they were a shield. “Yes, Your Highness. Of course.”

I offered a brief, grateful smile before stepping back, leaning against the cool stone wall as the staff dispersed. They cast lingering, curious glances my way as they moved to their duties, whispering to each other in hushed tones. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to calm my racing heart.

I had met my father, and I had healed him, saved him, in a way I had never imagined. But the threat of Eldra’s encroaching army, and the tangled mess of emotions from meeting a father I never knew I had... it was almost too much.

I forced myself to take another breath, deeper this time, and then another. Hold it together, I told myself, my fingers curling into fists at my sides. There would be time to process it all later, time to share the long, painful story that had led me here. For now, I had to be strong. I had to be the princess they needed me to be, even if I didn’t yet know what that truly meant.

So, I waited, listening to the muffled sounds of the palace beyond, and held my ground outside that door, guarding the fragile moments of reunion unfolding on the other side.

I had been pacing for what felt like hours, the stones underfoot cool even through the thick carpeting, when the door behind me finally creaked open. I whirled around, my breath catching, and there was Mother, her face aglow with a joy I had never seen before. She looked like the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders. Relief softened the usual stern lines of her expression, and her eyes, glistening with unshed tears, crinkled at the corners as she smiled.

A moment later, Father emerged, standing tall and proud despite the way his clothes hung loosely on his frame. The transformation was startling. Color had returned to his cheeks, and his eyes, clear and keen, were like the blue of a summer sky after a long, stormy winter. He looked like the king he was meant to be, strong, defiant, and unbroken.

Without a word, he opened his arms, beckoning me and Mother to him, and I stepped forward, feeling her hand slip into mine as we moved as one. The embrace was fierce and tight, and for the first time, I felt what it was like to be held by both my parents, together, our family, reunited after so many years of stolen time. I could feel my father’s heartbeat, strong and steady beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, and I clung to him, to them, as if I could hold onto this moment forever.

But the palace was waking up around us, the commotion drawing the curious and the loyal alike. Palace staff appeared in the hallway, and as they saw Father standing, truly standing, they gasped, their eyes widening in astonishment before they dropped to their knees, bowing low. Their voices, choked with emotion, blended in a rush of exclamations.

“It’s a miracle!” one of the maids breathed, her hands clasped together as if in prayer.

“The king is healed!” another cried, tears streaming down her face.

Father’s smile was weary but warm as he raised a hand to silence them. “Thank you,” he said, his voice rich with gratitude. “Thank you all for taking care of me during these dark days. But my daughter, Aeliana, has brought magic back to Avaloria. She has healed me.” His gaze swept the staff gathered around us, and then he gestured toward his chambers with a determined set to his jaw. “Strip the room of the darkness that lingered there. Tear down the drapes, open the windows wide. Let the light in. That place was a tomb, but no longer.”

The staff nodded eagerly, rushing to obey, their movements quick and sure as if they had been waiting for this command for years. The heavy drapes were pulled down, and the shutters swung open, letting in a flood of fresh air.

Father turned back to us, his face breaking into a grin. “I’m famished,” he said, and there was a boyish gleam in his eyes that I never would have expected. It was hard to reconcile this man, who had suffered so much, with the one who now seemed so alive, so full of spirit.

One of the servants stepped forward, bowing low. “Dinner is ready, Your Majesty,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “The others are waiting with the captain for the queen and the princess.”

Father’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, and he glanced from the servant to me, and then back to Mother, a curious light in his eyes. “The others?” he repeated.

I shifted slightly, glancing at Mother for reassurance before answering. “They are my friends, Father. They helped me get here, helped me survive long enough to come home. Eira... Thorne... and Alric. Each of them has risked their life for me, for Avaloria.”

He looked intrigued, a small frown of thought crossing his features. “Friends,” he mused softly, as if testing the word on his tongue, like he was trying to understand what that meant to me, what it would mean to our kingdom. “Then they must be thanked and honored as heroes.” He placed a hand on my shoulder, his touch light but warm. “Anyone who stands with my daughter is welcome in this palace, Aeliana.”

The words caught me off guard, and a lump rose in my throat. For so long, I had felt like an outsider, like someone without a home or a true name, but here he was, accepting my ragtag band of allies as if they were the most natural thing in the world. I had expected hesitation, maybe even disapproval, but there was only warmth in his eyes and the weight of trust in his voice.

“Come,” he said, his tone lighter, almost playful. “Let’s not keep them waiting. I want to meet the ones who stood by your side.”

He extended an arm to me, and for a moment, I hesitated. Then, with a deep breath, I took it, feeling the solid strength of his grip as he led us down the wide hall toward the banquet hall where the others waited. Mother’s soft, reassuring smile at my side made me feel stronger, like I could face anything that came next.

And as we walked, the staff and guards we passed bowed low, their murmured words of welcome, amazement at their king up and about, and whispers about the lost princess filling the corridors. For the first time, I let myself believe that I belonged here, that this was my home, and I was not alone anymore.

The dining hall was grand, all gold-fringed tapestries and magic-lit sconces that chased the shadows to the edges of the room. As we entered, the heavy doors swung shut behind us with a soft thud. Captain Malcom, who had been standing watch at the far end of the hall, straightened and then dropped into a deep bow. His voice carried clearly, filled with emotion.

“My King!” he exclaimed, his eyes wide with shock and relief.

That simple acknowledgment rippled through the room like a stone cast into still water. Alric, Thorne, and Eira, who had been seated, quietly talking among themselves, rose abruptly to their feet, faces pale with astonishment. They bowed as well, their gestures stiff and formal.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Mother lean towards the captain, her voice low and soothing as she began to explain what had happened, how I had healed Father and driven the darkness from him. But all of that became a distant murmur, barely registering over the pounding of my heart. Father's gaze turned to me, his eyes bright with curiosity and expectation.

“Introduce your friends, Aeliana,” he said, his tone gentle, almost amused. It was as if he found the notion of me having friends both surprising and endearing.

I stepped forward, feeling the intensity of the moment settle like a mantle across my shoulders. “This is Thorne,” I said, my voice steady as I gestured to him. “He is a warrior, one of the bravest I have ever met. And this is Alric, he uses his knowledge and magic to heal the neediest of people.” Both Thorne and Alric inclined their heads, looking humbled and a little awkward in the face of the King’s scrutiny.

When my gaze turned to Eira, my breath caught. She was standing there, shoulders back, chin up, her eyes fixed on mine with a fierce light. I extended my hand to her, and she didn’t hesitate. She took it, her fingers warm and familiar against my own. Then, with the boldness I had come to love in her, she leaned in and kissed me, swift and unashamed.

“I missed you,” she whispered, her breath mingling with mine, and in that instant, the rest of the world faded away.

The silence that followed was deafening. Father's eyes narrowed, and he cleared his throat, his expression shifting from curiosity to confusion, then to a darker shade of disbelief. “And... who is this?” he asked, his tone cool and measured.

“This is Eira,” I said, standing taller and squeezing Eira’s hand as if to draw strength from her warmth. “She is the woman I love.”

A flicker of something, perhaps amusement or disbelief, crossed Father’s face. His lips quirked in a thin, almost dismissive smile. “A dalliance, then,” he said, waving a hand as if brushing aside an inconsequential detail. “It is good you have had... distractions, but you are a princess of Avaloria, Aeliana. We will need to find you a husband worthy of your station.”

I stared at him, feeling as if the ground had dropped out from under me. The shock hit me like a blow to the chest, and for a moment, I couldn’t find the words to respond. It was as if everything, the healing, the homecoming, the hope, was being unraveled by that single, careless statement.

“No,” I said, the word escaping before I could stop it, sharp and defiant. “No, Father. Eira is not a distraction. She is not a dalliance. She is who I choose, who I love. I will not be married off to some man because of duty.”

The hall seemed to close in around us, the warmth of the hearths turning to a suffocating heat. Father’s face darkened, and the softness in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, iron-hard glare.

“You are my daughter,” he said, his voice cutting like a blade, “but I am your king, and you will do as I command. You have a duty to this kingdom, to the blood that runs in your veins. Your whims…”

“My whims?” My voice rose, nearly breaking. I could feel Eira’s fingers tightening in mine, a silent support that was both a comfort and a reminder of what I stood to lose. “This is not some passing fancy, Father! Eira is my choice, and I will not betray my heart for the sake of…”

“Enough!” he barked, the force of his words making me flinch. “You are a child, blinded by infatuation. I am your king, and you will do as I say, or you will bring shame upon us all!”

The air crackled with tension, the weight of his expectations crashing against my defiance, and I opened my mouth to shout back, only for Eira to step between us, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

“I can’t…” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the heated air like a knife. “I will not come between you and your family, Aeliana.” Her gaze flickered from me to Father, pain twisting her features. I could see her trembling, could feel her slipping away like sand through my fingers. “I won’t be the cause of more suffering.” Her voice broke on the last word, and before I could stop her, before I could even think, she pulled away, tears streaming down her face.

“No, wait…!” I reached for her, but she was already moving, already turning away. She pushed past the stunned staff, and I heard the muffled sob as she broke into a run, the heavy doors slamming shut behind her with a hollow thud that echoed in my chest.

The silence that followed was unbearable. I stood there, staring at the empty space where she had been, my chest tight and my breath coming in ragged gasps. Anger and anguish fueled me, and I turned to Father, who stood rigid and unyielding, his expression hard as stone.

“You…” I began, my voice shaking with fury and grief, but he cut me off with a cold, dismissive wave of his hand.

“This conversation is over,” he said. “You will learn your place, Aeliana. For the good of the kingdom.”

But I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. All I could think about was Eira’s face, the pain in her eyes, and the sound of the door closing between us like the final toll of a bell.

The silence that settled over the dining hall was suffocating. I could feel the weight of the captain’s gaze as he stepped forward, his eyes darting between me and Father, as if he were caught between loyalty and uncertainty.

“These people are known criminals,” he said, his voice rough with self-righteousness. He gestured vaguely to where Eira had fled. “And that one… the girl who just ran off… she attacked palace guards. I have a duty to…”

I felt the anger surge within me, white-hot and unyielding. “How dare you!” I shouted, my voice echoing off the stone walls as I took a step towards him. My fingers curled into fists at my sides. “That girl has a name. Her name is Eira* And you should know the truth of what happened that night. I was there.”

The captain’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t retreat. His hand hovered near the hilt of his sword, as if I were suddenly a threat. “Your two guards,” I continued, the fury making my voice sharp, “were drunk, out of their uniforms, and tried to take advantage of her. They got what they deserved.” I could see the captain’s face pale, his expression twisting with anger and shame.

I swung around to face Thorne and Alric, who stood rigid and tense, their eyes watching me with cautious hope. “You say they are criminals?” I demanded, my voice rising with each word. “Alric has done nothing but give to the people of this kingdom. He has saved lives, healed the sick, and asked for nothing in return… far more, I dare say, than the royal family has ever done.” From the corner of my eye, I saw Mother flinch, her face paling with a grief-stricken wince, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.

“Your guards,” I continued, my voice trembling with barely restrained rage, “burned his home and his medical building to the ground. They left the sick to die inside!” I felt a tear slide down my cheek, hot and furious, but I didn’t wipe it away.

“And Thorne...” I looked at him, seeing the loyalty and steadfast courage in his eyes, the scars that bore witness to battles we had fought together. “He has been at my side through everything. We have fought together, bled together, and he was there when we saved your queen’s life, when we searched for… for me.” I spun back towards Father, who stood rigid and unmoving, his expression hardening like granite.

“And you,” I said, my voice shaking now, the fury giving way to something raw and broken inside me. “You need to understand this… you are not my king. You do not command me. Before you pass judgment on me or my friends, you need to listen to our story.” My voice cracked, and I struggled to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. “Maybe when you learn to be a father... maybe then, I will start to think of you as my king.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and unrelenting, and for a long moment, no one moved. The only sound was the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the distant clatter of dishes in the kitchens, and the steady, shallow breaths of the people around me.

Father’s face hardened, his mouth tightening into a thin, furious line. He cleared his throat, the sound cold and unfeeling, and when he spoke, his voice was like ice. “You have a duty,” he said, each word clipped and deliberate, “to perpetuate the family line. There is an army coming for us, Aeliana. You have obligations to this kingdom, to your people, and that little…”

Something inside me snapped. I didn’t feel the usual warmth of magic coursing through me. It was something colder, sharper, like a blade slicing through the tension. A faint crackle of energy filled the air around me, and Father took an instinctive step back, his eyes widening with alarm.

“Eira is my family!” I said, my voice raw and wild with grief and fury. “We grew up together, we looked after each other when no one else did. I will not abandon her because it is inconvenient for you. She is the only person who has ever cared about me for who I am.”

I could see the shock in his eyes, the way his hands clenched at his sides, as if he wanted to reach for me but didn’t know how. “Aeliana…”

“No!” I shouted, the word tearing from my throat like a ragged sob. “I am going after her, and when I find her, I will decide if this kingdom… if you… are worth risking my life for. Because right now, I don’t see a kingdom worth saving, and I don’t see a father standing in front of me.”

I didn’t wait for him to respond. I didn’t look at my mother’s stricken face or the captain’s furious glare. I turned on my heel, my heart hammering in my chest, and stormed out of the dining hall, the heavy wooden doors slamming shut behind me with a force that rattled the very walls.

For a moment, I stood there, my breath ragged and unsteady, my vision blurred with angry tears. I could feel the palace around me, the enormity of its history, the expectations and duties that had been thrust upon me the moment I had stepped into its walls.

But all of that faded away, replaced by a single, overwhelming need to find Eira. To make things right. I took a deep breath, wiped the tears from my eyes, and set off down the hall, my footsteps echoing in the empty silence, each step taking me further from the world I had known... and closer to the one I would choose for myself.

I raced through the palace asking every staff person and guard I found if they had seen Eira. No one had. I finally found one woman that curtseyed to me.

“My Princess.”

“Have you seen Eira?”

The woman thought a moment. “The red-haired woman?”

I nodded.

“I saw her leave the palace.”

I started to run down the hallway then stopped turning back to the woman. “How do I get out of here?”

When I finally made it outside the palace walls, I paused only long enough to get my bearings and catch my breath. Then I had set off for the lower city, my instincts guiding me down familiar streets, past shops I had stolen from and alleys I had slept in long before I knew I was a princess. Eira’s horse was still in the stables, which meant she had left on foot, likely in a hurry, and almost certainly vulnerable.

As the city’s narrow streets twisted and darkened, my worry turned into a cold, furious focus. I had nearly reached the heart of the lower city when a grubby hand shot out from the shadows, snatching at my belt. I reacted without thinking, grabbing the boy’s wrist before he even touched the hilt of my sword. He struggled, panic flaring in his wide eyes, but I tightened my grip, leaning closer.

“Stop fighting,” I said, my voice firm but not unkind. He froze, his thin shoulders trembling beneath my grasp. “You work for the thieves' guild, don’t you?”

The boy nodded quickly, his eyes darting to the side, clearly calculating his chances of escape. I loosened my grip just enough to show him I wasn’t a threat. “I’m looking for someone,” I said, my tone urgent. “A girl with red hair. Have you seen her?”

His eyes widened at the description, and he nodded again, this time with a hint of dread. “Not long back, Miss. She was surrounded. She fought back,” he said in a hoarse whisper, “but they took her. They took her to the guild.”

My breath caught. The thieves’ guild had her. I released his wrist, and he bolted down the alley without looking back. I stood there for a moment, my chest tight with a storm of emotions, relief, anger, and a cold, bitter resolve. I knew where she was, and I would not let them keep her.

The thieves' guild had its stronghold in a section of the city that had been crumbling for decades, a maze of abandoned buildings and half-collapsed alleys that only those who lived there could navigate. I moved quickly, my pace relentless, ignoring the curious glances of those I passed. This was the territory of desperate souls, cutpurses, outcasts, and those who had nothing left to lose. I belonged here once, and even now the familiarity of it twisted my stomach with a strange mix of dread and nostalgia.

Finally, I reached the entrance to the guild’s domain, a narrow alley barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side. A faded red scarf was tied to a rusted lamppost at the mouth of the alley, a sign for those who knew to stay away. I didn’t hesitate, stepping into the shadows without a second thought. If Eira was in there, then that’s where I would go.

The air grew colder, and the sounds of the city faded behind me, replaced by the low murmur of hushed voices and the distant clinking of glass. The narrow path twisted and turned, growing darker with each step, until the faint glow of lanterns ahead signaled that I had reached the guild’s heart. Two figures loomed out of the darkness, a pair of guards standing sentinel at a heavy wooden door.

They saw me coming, their faces hardening into suspicious scowls. “What’s your business here?” one demanded, his hand dropping to the hilt of his dagger.

“I’m here for Eira,” I said, not slowing my pace. “The girl with red hair. Take me to her.”

They exchanged a look. The taller of the two sneered, stepping forward to block my path. “And who do you think you are, barging into our territory and making demands? Run along, little girl, before you get hurt.”

He moved to push me back, and my hand shot out, faster than I had intended. I grabbed his wrist, twisting sharply until he dropped his dagger with a startled curse. The other guard’s eyes widened, and he fumbled for his own weapon, but I was already moving, with a magically enhanced push, I shoved the first guard back, into the second, and the wooden door behind them splintered and shattered inward.

The two men landed in the debris at my feet, unmoving, but still breathing.

I had been here before and I had promised myself to never come back here again.

I moved forward, stepping into a vast room that stood in stark contrast to the filth of the lower city outside. A thick, richly woven carpet muffled my footsteps, and the scent of expensive incense hung heavy in the air masking the scent of the lower city. The walls, lined with dimly flickering torches, were covered in tapestries of deep, royal blues and golds. Dark wood furniture gleamed in the low light, and a chandelier of delicate glass beads swung gently from the ceiling.

At the center of it all, lounging with the ease of a man who owned everything he saw, sat Sebastian. He looked every bit the part of a guild master, his polished boots propped up on an ornately carved table, a lazy smile playing on his lips. Around him, like predators ready to strike, his top lieutenants lingered, assassins and enforcers, each with a hand resting casually on the hilts of their weapons. More men slipped into the room behind me, a low murmur of whispers passing between them, cutting off any possible escape. I could feel their eyes on me assessing when to strike, but my attention was fixed on Sebastian.

His gaze was steady, appraising, and utterly unimpressed. “That’s quite the entrance,” he said, his voice smooth and mocking. He motioned toward the ruined door with a wave of his hand. “The door was expensive. I expect you to pay for a replacement.”

I barely registered his words, my fury held in check by a thread. “I’m here for Eira,” I said, my tone cold and uncompromising.

One eyebrow arched as he leaned forward, the smile never leaving his face. “She has betrayed the guild,” he said slowly, as if speaking to a child, “and she owes us a significant debt. But,” he added, his gaze sliding over me with a slow, predatory leer, “I forget my manners. You already know me, but I am certain I would remember meeting someone like you before.” He licked his lips, eyes gleaming with a mix of curiosity and lust. “What is your name, girl?”

“Aeliana,” I replied, keeping my voice level, though my magic hummed dangerously close to the surface. I could feel the men behind me, closing in, their presence a dark cloud at my back. Sebastian’s gaze flickered to them, then back to me. He seemed to expect me to be afraid, to flinch, to back down.

I did neither.

Instead, I let my magic flow with a sharp flick of my wrist. A gust of force rippled out from me, sending the men behind me crashing into the walls, the dull thud of bodies against wood echoing through the room. They crumpled to the floor, groaning, some scrambling to their knees, eyes wide with shock.

The torches flared, casting sharp, wavering shadows across Sebastian’s face. His smile faded for just a heartbeat, replaced by a cold, calculating gleam. The assassins around him tensed, hands tightening around their weapons, but Sebastian raised a lazy hand to keep them in place.

“I will offer you this, Sebastian,” I said, my voice cutting through the sudden silence like a blade. “Give Eira to me, and I will not level this place.”

His eyes narrowed, but the smirk crept back to his lips, thin and dangerous. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. “Level this place?” he echoed, mocking disbelief in his tone. “You’re bold, Aeliana. I will give you that. But you have no idea who you’re dealing with. Eira made her choice when she turned her back on the guild. We don’t take kindly to traitors. And as for you...”

He paused, his gaze drifting to the scorched walls behind me, a flicker of genuine unease shadowing his expression. “You have power,” he said slowly, considering his words. “But power isn’t everything. Do you even know what you’re risking for her? If you want her, then we can discuss a business transaction.”

I took another step forward, my magic crackling at my fingertips, the air around me vibrating with the force of my anger. “This is not about business,” I said, my voice rising, “and she is not yours to keep. You and your guild have no idea what you are dealing with if you think you can use her to manipulate me. I will not leave without her.”

Sebastian’s face tightened, the amusement draining from his features. His hand dropped from his chin, fingers curling over the edge of the table. “You think you can come in here, threaten me, and walk out with what you want? You’re brave. Stupid, good looking, but brave.” He stood, unfolding himself from the chair with a deliberate slowness, and the assassins around him moved, closing in around the perimeter of the room.

I kept my eyes locked on his, refusing to be intimidated, refusing to look away. Every step I took was measured, my magic simmering just beneath my skin. It was dangerous, I knew, too much would bring the room down around us, too little would give him the upper hand. But I had not come this far to be cowed.

Sebastian’s hand moved, almost too quick to follow, and he flicked a single silver coin into the air. It spun, catching the light of the flickering torches, then landed in his palm with a soft clink. “One chance,” he said, his voice low and hard. “Turn around. Walk away. Leave this place, and I might let you live.”

The coin glinted in his hand, a warning and a challenge all at once. I clenched my fists at my sides, feeling the pulse of my magic begging for release, but I held it back, barely. “I will not walk away,” I said, my voice steady and clear. “I will never abandon her. Not to you, not to anyone.”

He studied me for a long moment, the silence stretching taut between us. Then, slowly, he smiled, a thin, humorless smile that sent a shiver down my spine.

“So be it,” he said softly, and the assassins surged forward.

The room erupted in chaos as my magic flared, snapping like a whip through the still, heavy air. The assassins were yanked off their feet, their bodies flung upwards, suspended for a breathless moment like broken marionettes, limbs flailing helplessly. I did not even break stride. With a flick of my wrist, I sent them crashing down. The impact shook the floorboards; dust sifted from the beams above. Groans and the scrape of leather on wood echoed through the chamber, but the threat they posed had already crumpled. Only a few remained conscious, struggling to pull themselves together as I kept my focus trained on Sebastian.

His eyes widened in genuine shock, the bravado draining from his face. He stumbled back as I stepped forward, his fingers twitching for the dagger at his waist. He moved quickly, his blade flashing out like a striking snake, but I was quicker, having anticipated his move, after all, he had taught me. My own sword sang free of its scabbard, steel meeting flesh in a heartbeat. The sharp edge rested against his throat before he had time to blink, pressing just hard enough to draw a single bead of blood.

“I should end your miserable life, Sebastian,” I said, my voice cold as ice. My grip tightened on the hilt, and his face paled, his eyes fixed on the gleaming blade pressed to his jugular. “I will not ask again. Give me Eira, or you forfeit your wretched existence. If you refuse, I will bring this place to the ground and take her anyways.”

His expression twisted, half defiant, half afraid, but he knew as well as I did that the balance of power had shifted. I could see him calculating, weighing his options, his pride struggling with his instinct for survival. Slowly, his glare melted into a grimace of resignation, his lips curling with hatred as he barked the command. “Bring Eira!”

One of the conscious lieutenants scrambled to obey, disappearing down a shadowed corridor. I did not move, my blade still pressing lightly into the tender flesh beneath Sebastian’s jaw. He dared not even swallow. Instead, he reached up with shaking fingers, trying to ease the sword’s edge away from his throat. I allowed him to push it back a fraction, but my gaze never wavered from his.

“Who are you?” he breathed, his voice hoarse and choked with a fear he could no longer hide.

I said nothing, my silence colder than any answer I could give. Footsteps echoed from the darkened hallway, and I turned, keeping my blade ready. They shoved Eira into the room. She stumbled, but she remained on her feet, her eyes locking onto mine with a mixture of relief and pain. Her face was a mess of bruises, her lower lip split, and a thin trickle of blood had dried down her cheek. Her wrists were bound tightly with thick, dirty rope, and the fabric of her tunic was torn and stained.

But she was alive.

I felt the fury that had been simmering in my veins boil over. With a quick, smooth motion, I sheathed my sword and stepped past Sebastian, who sagged in relief the moment the blade was no longer at his throat. The two men who had brought Eira tried to shove her toward me, but she wrenched herself free, staggering across the space between us with all the strength she had left.

My hand found hers, and I poured my magic into her with a touch, warmth spreading from my palm into her skin, knitting bone and mending flesh, erasing the marks of their cruelty. The bruises faded, her split lip sealed, and the dull pain in her eyes flickered and then vanished. The ropes binding her wrists snapped and fell away, crumbling to dust at our feet.

Eira swayed, taking a shuddering breath as the color returned to her cheeks. Her lips parted, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners. "You came for me," she whispered, her voice barely audible. There was a rawness in her tone that tore at my heart, a quiet astonishment that, after everything, I had not abandoned her.

"Always," I said, my words fierce with promise. I turned back to Sebastian, who still stood frozen, fury burning beneath his mask of fear. The men who remained conscious stared at me with wide, disbelieving eyes, and the room fell utterly silent.

Sebastian’s defiance was crumbling, but he forced a sneer onto his lips, his pride a stubborn, dying thing. “Take her,” he spat, though his voice trembled. “Take her and get out. You’ve proven your point, but do not think for a moment that you have won. Eira still owes the guild. This will not be the end.”

I stepped forward, forcing him to take a stumbling step back, his eyes flicking nervously to the unconscious bodies scattered around us. “No,” I said, my voice low and dangerous, “this is the end. If you or anyone from this guild comes after Eira again, I will return. And next time, there will be no mercy.”

I glanced at Sebastians ornate gold daggers. “Give those to Eira as recompense.”

Sebastian scowled. “She owes…”

“Nothing!” I interrupted him with a shout.

Sebastian winced and handed Eira the daggers. “Who are you?!”

It was Eira that replied for me. “She is Aeliana, the lost princess of Avaloria, heir to the throne.”

I turned away, my arm sliding around Eira’s waist to steady her. I felt her lean into me, the warmth of her touch a reminder of why I had come, why I had risked everything. Together, we walked past the broken bodies, the shattered remnants of Sebastian’s power, and stepped into the cool night air beyond.

The city’s muffled noise wrapped around us as we slipped down one of the quieter alleys, far enough from the thieves’ guild to feel the threat fade. Eira’s fingers tightened around mine, tugging me to a halt. I turned to her, the tension from the encounter still thrumming through my veins, my heart hammering in my chest.

Eira’s face was a study of emotions, relief, uncertainty, and a fierce determination that mirrored my own. A breeze tugged at her tangled hair, sweeping it across her dirty face. Gently, I brushed a strand away, and she caught my wrist, holding my hand against her cheek for a moment before she leaned in and kissed me. Her lips were warm and soft, and the world narrowed to just the two of us, standing alone in the dim glow of the city’s streetlights.

She pulled back, resting her forehead against mine, her breath mingling with mine in the cold air. “You came for me,” she said, her voice trembling. Her arms slipped around my waist, and I held her close, feeling the steady beat of her heart against my own.

“Of course I came,” I murmured, stroking her hair, feeling the silky strands beneath my fingers. “I love you, Eira. I meant what I said, if being with you means giving up the throne, then so be it. Nothing matters to me more than you.”

She shivered, and I felt the struggle in her as she pulled back enough to meet my gaze, her eyes dark and searching. “But what about the kingdom?” she asked, her voice tight. “What about Eldra? And your father, he will never allow us to be together.”

I sighed. “I don’t have all the answers,” I admitted, my voice quiet but firm. “But I know that we will face it together. I don’t want to abandon my family, and I don’t want to abandon the kingdom. I was given this power for a reason, and I can’t ignore that. But I also won’t let anyone dictate who I should love.”

Eira’s expression softened, and she bit her lip, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She pulled me closer, burying her face in the crook of my neck, and for a moment, the world was small and safe again. I held her, breathing in the familiar scent of her, feeling her warmth seep into me, and the dark uncertainty of the future felt just a little less terrifying.

She stepped back, her hand slipping into mine, her thumb brushing over my knuckles. “You’re right,” she said. “We will figure it out. Together. Besides, who would argue with you?” She added teasingly.

I glanced back toward the palace, the towering spires barely visible through the maze of crooked rooftops and narrow alleys. “We should go back,” I said, my voice firming with the decision. “We need to find the others. There’s too much at stake to run away now.”

Eira nodded, a spark of determination lighting in her eyes. “Then let’s go,” she said, her voice steady.

Hand in hand, we moved back through the darkened streets, the uncertainty of our future hanging between us like a challenge. Yet with each step, I felt stronger, surer of what I needed to do. We had survived the worst the city could throw at us, and now it was time to face the rest, the king, the kingdom, and the shadow of Eldra that loomed ever closer.

 

***

 

The palace loomed above us, its spires piercing the twilight sky. The streets had grown quieter and cleaner as we approached, the muted sounds of the lower city fading behind us. I tightened my grip on Eira’s hand. It was comforting to be touching her as the palace gates came into view. A dozen guards waited there, their armor gleaming under the flickering lanterns, the captain at their forefront. As we neared, they all bowed low, and a shiver of disbelief ran down my spine. It was strange to be acknowledged as princess.

The captain straightened and stepped forward, his face impassive but respectful. “Princess Aeliana,” he said, his voice formal, “we were sent to find you both.”

I gave him a wary look, my eyes narrowing slightly. “I assume, by the way you are bowing, that you are not here to arrest us, Captain Malcom?”

He shook his head, a flicker of something like regret passing over his features. “No, Your Highness. The queen... she told us your story, and of how you worked together.” His gaze shifted to Eira, and he seemed to struggle for a moment before speaking. “I owe you an apology, Eira, for considering you a criminal. I... I did not know.”

Eira gave him a curt nod, her face carefully neutral, though I could feel the tension in her. I tilted my chin up slightly. “And what of the king’s disposition?” I asked, keeping my voice even. “Does he agree with my mother?”

The captain’s eyes darkened, and he shook his head slowly. “I cannot speak for the king, Your Highness. He remained in the dining room with the others. But... it’s clear that things have changed. The queen has made her stance known.”

I took a deep breath as Eira’s hand tightened around mine, and I took strength from that simple gesture. “Then I suppose we should not keep him waiting,” I said, a determined edge creeping into my voice. “Lead the way, because there is no way I could find the dining room again.”

We followed the captain and the guards, the echo of our footsteps the only sound as we moved through the palace gates. As we stepped into the towering halls, I paused and turned back to the captain, a faint smile tugging at my lips. “Oh, and if you happen to hear about some injuries or damage in the thieves’ guild,” I said, my tone light, “that was my doing, in case anyone wants a firsthand account. I would suggest keeping a close watch on the lower city. Crime might spike a bit to make up for the damages.”

The captain blinked, caught off guard, but then nodded slowly, a hint of a smile touching his lips. “Understood, Your Highness. We will be vigilant.”

With a nod, I turned back, pulling Eira along with me. My heart was pounding as we walked deeper into the palace. Every step echoed louder than the last, each one carrying us closer to the confrontation I knew awaited. There was no turning back now.

Hand in hand, we climbed the final staircase and entered the grand corridor that led to the dining room.

The captain opened the dining room doors, and I felt a rush of heat rise to my cheeks. The room, still lit with the warm glow of the magical chandelier, was quiet. All eyes were turned to us. The captain held the door, standing at attention, and I stepped forward with Eira’s hand still in mine.

My mother moved first, nearly running to me, her eyes wide with relief. She cupped my face in her trembling hands, a sob catching in her throat. “Thank the gods you are both all right,” she said, her voice choked. “I... I didn’t know if you were even coming back.”

I let out a long breath, the tension in my chest easing just a little as I saw the genuine worry etched across her face. “I’m not going to leave the kingdom to Eldra and her army if I can do anything about it,” I said firmly. “As for other things... I guess that is left to be decided. All but Eira. That is nonnegotiable.”

From the far end of the room, my father stood, his posture straight but his eyes weary, shadowed with regret. There was a heaviness in his gaze that made my breath catch, pride mingling with a kind of defeat. He stepped forward, slowly, and I felt Eira stiffen beside me.

“I need to apologize,” he began, his voice rough, but he forced himself to meet Eira’s eyes first. “To you both. Eira... I had no idea what you meant to our daughter, who clearly loves you.” He swallowed, his expression softening. “I understand now. Lisandra has spoken how highly she regards you, all of you, and what you have done for this kingdom.”

I couldn’t move. I barely dared to breathe as he turned to me, his gaze locking onto mine. “Aeliana, my daughter,” he said, his voice wavering, “you were right when you said I needed to be a father first. For so long, I have been consumed with the weight of this kingdom, trying to do right by it... and failing. I failed the people, your mother, and I failed you.”

There was a silence that stretched and seemed to encompass the whole room, each second hanging heavy with unspoken things. My father stepped closer, his face lined with the years of battles, both internal and external, that had worn him down. “Forgive me, Aeliana,” he said, his voice breaking. “I want to be a father, and I hope there is a chance for me to learn how to be a good one.”

I wanted to say something, but my throat was tight, and the words wouldn’t come. His next words, however, sent a shock through me, leaving me breathless.

“Without magic, I cannot claim rulership of Avaloria,” he said, his tone resolute, though his eyes were pleading. “I have held on to a tenuous reign, only because I kept my lack of magic and illness a secret. I have given this much thought... and I am hereby abdicating my role as king to you.”

I froze, my heart hammering in my chest. The room went utterly still.

“You are hereby Queen of Avaloria,” he said. “But... I hope that you will allow me to remain by your side. To try to be the father I never was.”

“You want me to rule? To be queen? I grew up on the streets. I know nothing about running a kingdom.”

“You can’t be any worse a ruler than I have been, Aeliana. Your mother and I would stay to assist you and guide you. We have lost too many years. We have not spent that much time together with my illness and we are only getting to know you. What Lisandra and your friends have told me about you gives me hope. You are led by an innate sense of justice, an understanding of the plight of the people, and have courage.”

My mind whirled, grappling with the sudden shift, the enormity of the decision he had just made. I glanced at Eira, who looked just as stunned as I felt, her fingers tightening around mine.

I turned back to my father. His face was open, vulnerable. It was not a king standing before me, it was a man, weary and broken, who had cast aside his crown in the hopes of mending what he had lost.

I took a step forward, closing the distance between us, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of fear in his eyes, fear that I would reject him, that I would turn away. Instead, I reached out, my hand finding his, and I pulled us into a hug.

“Then be my father,” I said, my voice trembling but strong. “I will take up the mantle you have laid down, but I will do it my way, with those I love by my side.”

He let out a breath, his relief almost palpable, and slowly, almost tentatively, he pulled me into a tighter embrace. I felt him tremble, and I closed my eyes, allowing myself, just for a moment, to lean into his strength.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

I pulled back, my heart pounding. “But make no mistake,” I said, my voice firm. “I will be a queen on my own terms, with my own rules. And Eira,” I glanced at her, feeling a surge of fierce pride, “will stand by my side. No one will take that from me.”

My father’s gaze was steady as he spoke. “You are Queen now, Aeliana,” he said with calm finality. “If you choose Eira as your partner, then that is your choice, and no one will say otherwise. Your magic and bloodline are what makes you the rightful ruler, but at some point, you will have to think about how it will pass to the next heir.” He hesitated, a shadow passing over his face. “For now, though, our focus must be on Eldra... and surviving her.”

I took a slow, deep breath. Queen. The word still felt foreign, like a title that belonged to someone else, someone stronger, wiser, better prepared. Yet it was mine now, and there was no turning back. I opened my mouth to say something profound, to acknowledge the path that lay before us... but all that came out was, “Can we eat first?”

For a moment, there was stunned silence. Then, like a wave breaking, the tension shattered, and a murmur of activity spread through the room. A few of the staff, who had witnessed the transfer of power with wide eyes and slackened jaws, suddenly scrambled into motion, rushing off to fulfill my simple request.

I looked at Eira, who was still holding my hand as if afraid I might disappear if she let go, and then turned back to my parents. “Did I just do that?” I asked, incredulously. “Did they go get food because I asked if we could eat first?”

My mother gave a soft laugh, the sound almost bitter with the relief that had settled into her features. She nodded. “Yes, my dear, they did. You are the queen now. Your word is a command.”

The realization struck me hard.

Mother continued. “We need to make announcements,” she said, forcing me to focus. “To the palace staff, to the guards, to the people... And then...” Her gaze hardened. “Then we need to prepare for war with Eldra.”

I sank into a chair, gesturing for Eira to sit beside me. She hesitated, glancing nervously at my parents, but I pulled her down next to me with a gentle smile. Her hand slipped into mine beneath the table, warm and grounding.

“Can I give the rulership back?” I asked, only half-joking, as my eyes drifted over the opulence of the dining room.

My father shook his head with a sad smile. “Once I lost my magic, you were the rightful ruler. This is your kingdom now.”

I closed my eyes. “You know,” I said softly, my voice almost lost to the rustle of movement around us, “ten days ago, I was Caelan, an orphan living in the lower city.”

Thorne’s laugh broke the moment, deep and warm. “I always told you that you would make something of yourself, didn’t I?” he said, his eyes sparkling with pride and amusement.

I was about to answer, but the staff had returned, moving with a speed and efficiency I had never seen before. Plates were set in front of us, roasted meats, fresh breads, vegetables steamed and fragrant. The scents filled the room, and my stomach growled in response.

I looked down at the food, feeling suddenly disoriented, as if the room was spinning and I was just trying to find my footing. Just over a week ago, I had fought just to keep scraps in my belly, and now I was sitting at a lavish table as… queen. The absurdity of it all nearly made me laugh, but I swallowed the sound, lifting my gaze to meet Eira’s.

Her eyes were shining with something like awe, her fingers tightening around mine beneath the table. And despite everything, the uncertainty, the looming threat of war, the heavy burden of a crown I had never asked for, I felt a warmth settle in my chest.

 

***

 

I woke to bright sunlight filtering through the heavy, embroidered curtains, the sheets warm and soft against my skin. For a moment, I lay there, disoriented, my thoughts caught between a half-remembered dream and the bewildering reality that had become my life. The bed was enormous, far too big for me alone, and I stared up at the canopy overhead, its deep velvet trim so rich and elegant it took my breath away. It felt almost like a stranger's room... like the kind of place you only read about in old legends, the chambers of a queen.

Last night played back in my mind, the rush of it all. After dinner, we summoned the palace staff, their faces filled with curiosity and shock as my father announced that the lost princess, his daughter, had returned. I remembered the quiet gasp that rippled through the room as he introduced me as their new queen, and the mix of emotions that crossed each face as they absorbed the news. There had been a similar meeting with the palace guards, many of whom seemed barely able to mask their surprise, and runners had been sent off into the night to spread the word to every corner of Avaloria.

Plans were set for the town criers to announce to the citizens that a grand declaration would be made today in the main square. The excitement and disbelief of the palace buzzed in the air like a current, almost tangible. Seamstresses had come and gone, tugging at my arms and measuring me from every angle with a kind of efficiency that left me breathless. At my insistence, they had measured Eira as well, much to her reluctance, and I had seen the spark of excitement in her eyes despite her attempts to hide it. When they had finally led me to this room, my room, my thoughts had whirled too fast for sleep. Yet, somehow, in the small hours of the morning, exhaustion had claimed me.

I pushed back the covers, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. The cool floor against my feet made me shiver, and I grabbed a robe from a nearby chair, wrapping it tightly around myself. I was halfway to the washstand when a sharp, hurried knock startled me, and I turned just in time to see the door swing open.

Mother stood there, dressed in a gown that looked as regal as it did practical, her face alight with an energy that seemed far too intense for such an early hour. Beside her, several ladies-in-waiting hovered, their arms full of fabrics and brushes, their expressions a mixture of excitement and urgency.

“Two hours, Aeliana,” my mother said without preamble, stepping inside as if she had every right to. Her tone was light, but there was a gleam of command in her eyes that I had never noticed before.

I blinked at her, still caught in the haze of sleep. “Two hours until what?”

Mother smiled, a mixture of pride and exasperation in her expression. “Until you are crowned, of course. In front of all the citizens.” She motioned to the ladies who surged forward as if on cue, herding me toward a side door that I hadn’t even noticed the night before.

I barely had time to register the meaning of her words before the women were bustling me into a large, luxurious bathroom, their hands already tugging at the belt of my robe, urging me toward a massive tub that steamed invitingly in the corner. I felt like a leaf caught in a swift-moving river, carried along by the force of their purpose.

“What, now?” I managed to stammer, my mind struggling to catch up.

“Yes, now,” Mother replied with a laugh that sounded almost joyous, a relief breaking through her usual composure. “We have no time to waste. The kingdom needs its queen, and they need her today.”

“But…” I started to protest, only for the words to die on my lips as one of the women, a stern-faced maid with quick, precise movements, slipped a warm, damp cloth across my face, wiping away the remnants of sleep and hesitation.

“There will be plenty of time to worry later,” my mother said gently, her hands resting on my shoulders in a gesture that was surprisingly reassuring. “For now, just let us take care of you.”

I nodded, too overwhelmed to argue, and let them guide me further into the room. The bath was warm and fragrant, the steam wrapping around me like a comforting embrace as I sank into it. As the ladies fussed around me, washing my hair and finding splinters of wood from the thieves’ guild door, scrubbing my skin until it glowed, I felt the anxiety melt away, replaced by a strange calm.

This was happening. This was real. In two hours, I would stand before Avaloria as its queen.

The water rippled as I leaned back, closing my eyes for just a moment. When I opened them again, I saw my mother’s reflection in the gilded mirror across the room. Her gaze met mine, and she gave me a small, encouraging smile.

The ladies lifted me from the bath with careful hands, their fingers quick and gentle as they dried my skin and pulled me toward a nearby stool. Layers of fabric in Avaloria’s royal colors, deep sapphire and shimmering silver, waited for me, and they slid the dress over my head with practiced precision. It fit perfectly, flowing over my body like water, the fabric light yet somehow strong, cinching just enough at the waist before cascading to the floor. It made me look like a fairy tale queen, and yet here I was, standing in the middle of a whirlwind of brushes, pins, and combs as the ladies finished my hair.

They murmured amongst themselves as they worked, their voices blending in a low hum of excitement, but I barely heard them. My focus was on the mirror, the mirror that reflected someone who looked every inch the queen they claimed I was. The dress glittered in the light, and my hair, braided and woven with delicate silver ribbons, gleamed like a crown of its own.

When they stepped back, satisfied with their work, I hardly recognized myself. I looked... powerful, confident, and beautiful. It was a strange, almost unsettling feeling, the same rush of disorientation that I had felt after my first glimpse into a mirror as Aeliana. It was as if I was seeing a stranger who was also me, someone who belonged in the legends I had grown up with, someone who was about to step into the role of ruler.

I took a slow, steadying breath and turned to find Mother watching me, her face softened with an expression I could not quite decipher, pride, yes, but also something more tender, almost wistful. The lines around her eyes crinkled as she smiled, and I felt a rush of warmth, of connection, to this woman who had once seemed so far removed from my world.

“The last time I was in the square,” I said quietly, more to myself than to her, “I was just another face in the crowd, listening to the crier announce yet another search for the lost princess. People were angry. I remember the shouts, ‘We need food, not a princess.’” I hesitated, glancing back at the mirror. “How do I face them now? What do I say to people who have every reason to despise the idea of a queen?”

I turned back to my mother, seeking some kind of answer in her steady gaze. “I’m trying to picture it, the king announces he’s stepping down, that his long-lost daughter is back from wherever she disappeared to, and here she is, your new queen. And they’re still hungry. They’re still afraid. They don’t know me... Will they even care?”

She stepped forward, taking my hands in hers. Her touch was warm, her grip firm and reassuring, and she looked at me with an intensity that chased away some of the lingering doubt. “Sometimes,” she said softly, “all people need is a seed of hope. It is not easy to give them what they need right away, but they have seen this kingdom struggling and falling apart for so long. Your presence, your return, is a sign that change is possible.”

I tried to hold onto her words, but it felt like grasping smoke. “Hope isn’t going to fill their bellies,” I said, feeling the weight of the task settle deeper in my chest.

“No,” she agreed, squeezing my hands, “but hope is what will keep them fighting, what will give them the strength to believe in a better future. You don’t have to be perfect, Aeliana. You must be willing to try. Your magic is already working, there’s more light, more warmth, more... life in the land than there has been in years. They feel it, even if they don’t understand it yet.”

I thought of the people, hungry, tired, disillusioned, waiting to hear what I had to say. Could I be what they needed? Did I even know how?

“It’s time,” she said, her voice gentle yet unyielding.

I barely had a moment to gather myself before stepping into the hallway, and the sight that greeted me made my heart skip. Eira stood there, a radiant smile lighting up her face, twirling in a gown that fit her perfectly, a deep burgundy that brought out the warmth in her eyes. She moved toward me, and before I could react, she was kissing me, light and swift, a touch of reassurance and love that melted my anxiety like ice under the sun.

Thorne and Alric stood to the side, both looking uncharacteristically polished, their hair neatly combed, armor gleaming without a smudge of dirt or wear. They were almost unrecognizable, especially Thorne, who, despite his rugged demeanor, looked almost princely. I couldn’t help but let out a surprised laugh.

“Don’t you two look like shiny new coins,” I said, grinning as I pulled away from Eira.

Alric chuckled, his eyes twinkling with the familiarity of old friendship. “Look who’s talking… my queen.” He gave a deep bow, exaggerated and playful, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

I looked over to my father, expecting a quiet nod or some small gesture of acknowledgment. But instead, he stepped forward and pulled me into a tight embrace. His arms wrapped around me, and for a moment, I almost started to cry imagining all the hugs I had missed in my life. I returned the hug, feeling the unexpected comfort of it.

“It’s strange,” he said, his voice low and soft as he pulled back, his hands still resting on my shoulders. “I don’t really know you… not the person you have become. But I can see it in your eyes, the care you have for others, the strength I thought I had lost in myself.” He gave a shaky breath. “The day you were taken from us, I lost something… and now, seeing you like this, I feel a peace I never thought I would find again. I know you will be an amazing queen, Aeliana.”

“Thank you,” I said, the words catching in my throat, and he pulled me in for another brief, fierce hug before letting go.

“When we get to the square,” he continued, his tone firmer, “I want you to stay back until I call for you.”

I nodded, understanding his reasoning. This moment wasn’t just about my return. It was about a king acknowledging his own failures, about passing the mantle in a way that offered the people a sense of closure and hope.

We started moving down the corridor, and I was startled to find the palace staff lined up along the walls, bowing and curtseying as I passed. I tried to keep my gaze steady, moving with a confidence I didn’t entirely feel, but their silent acknowledgment was more than I had anticipated.

I caught a glimpse of Eira out of the corner of my eye. She winked, a mischievous glint in her eyes that cut through the formality. I smiled, feeling a surge of warmth and love for her, grateful that she was by my side.

Step by step, we made our way toward the grand doors that led to the main square. The sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows painted us in a kaleidoscope of color, bathing us in a soft, almost holy light. My heart pounded in anticipation.

I reached out, feeling Eira’s hand slip into mine, her fingers cool and steady. She gave my hand a small squeeze, and I returned it, grateful beyond words.

As we reached the doors, Captain Malcom stepped forward, his expression serious but with a hint of pride. He gave a slight bow, acknowledging me not just as a princess but as a queen, and gestured for us to wait as the heavy doors began to open.

My father paused at the threshold, his shoulders squared, his stance regal, and took a deep breath before stepping out into the square.

I stood just inside the shadow of the grand doors, Eira at my side, her hand brushing against mine in quiet reassurance. I knew, once again, that my life was about to change dramatically as I watched my father step forward onto the raised platform. My mother stood beside him, her presence calm, though I could see the faint tension in the set of her shoulders. Slightly behind them were Thorne, Alric, and the captain of the guard.

The crier raised his staff, its metal tip ringing against the stone as he called for silence. His voice boomed over the restless murmur of the crowd. “Citizens of Avaloria! I present to you His Majesty, King Cedric of Avaloria!”

The noise in the square settled into a tense, expectant hush as all eyes turned to the king. He stood there for a moment, his hands resting lightly on the stone balustrade, his gaze sweeping over the gathered crowd. The sunlight caught the streaks of silver in his dark hair, highlighting the lines etched into his face. He looked weary, but there was a quiet resolve in his stance, a man carrying the weight of his failures, standing ready to own them.

“People of Avaloria,” he began, his voice steady but heavy with emotion. “Thank you for coming today. I stand before you humbled, not as a king, but as a man who has failed you.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd, but he raised a hand, and silence fell once more.

“I look across the weary and worn faces of what was once a proud, thriving kingdom,” he continued, his tone low but firm. “Your plight is my fault. I allowed this land, our home, to wither under my watch. The fields are barren, the rivers run low, and our hope… has all but vanished. And it is because I was blinded by desperation and deceived by a witch.”

A gasp echoed from the crowd, and I tensed, my hands balling into fists at my sides. Eira glanced at me, concern flickering in her eyes, but I gave a slight shake of my head, urging her to stay quiet. This moment was his, and I had to trust him to tell the truth.

“My wife, your queen, was dying,” my father continued, his voice breaking slightly. “She carried our child, our hope for the future, but the sickness in her body threatened to take them both. I was desperate. I made a choice I will regret for the rest of my days. I bargained with a witch named Eldra, trading my magic, magic that sustained this kingdom, in exchange for their lives.”

The crowd shifted, their expressions a mixture of shock and curiosity. My mother reached for his arm, a silent show of solidarity. He covered her hand with his own, drawing strength from her.

“Queen Lisandra was saved,” he said, his voice softening, “but the cost was greater than I could have imagined. My magic was fully stripped from me, and with it, the magic that flows through and sustains Avaloria’s lands. Our fields dried, our waters thinned, and the kingdom began to crumble. But Eldra was not finished with me. She demanded more. On the day my daughter was born, she came for her. She took her, cursed her to bind her magic that would have saved us and kept her hidden from us.”

There were gasps and cries of outrage from the crowd now, anger mixing with disbelief. The mention of a lost princess had always been more of a whispered legend than a reality to most of Avaloria’s people. My father held up his hand again, and the crowd quieted, though their unease lingered in the air.

“For years, we searched,” he said, his voice growing firmer. “We scoured the kingdom and beyond, following every lead, chasing every rumor. And then, one week ago, our prayers were answered. Our daughter, the Princess Aeliana, was found by your own queen and a small band of people that stood by her side.

“Eldra hid our daughter in plain sight,” he continued. “Living among us, unknowing of who she truly was or the power that lay locked within her. She has returned to us now, not just as our daughter, but as our queen. For I, having failed you all, have relinquished my throne to her, for she is the hope of Avaloria. She is the one that carries the magical might and power capable of bringing our kingdom back to what it once was.”

The crowd erupted then, voices rising in a chaotic blend of surprise, excitement, and disbelief. My father stood tall, his hand raised to calm them once again.

“I know what you may be thinking,” he said. “How can this be true? How can one person restore what has been lost? I will tell you this: I have seen it with my own eyes. Her magic flows through Avaloria’s lands once more. The fields have begun to green, the rivers to swell. The hope we thought was lost has been rekindled.”

He stepped back slightly, his gaze moving toward where I stood just out of sight. My heart hammered in my chest as he turned to address the crowd one final time.

“It is time for me to step down,” he said, his voice carrying a strange mixture of sorrow and relief. “I have failed you as your king. But I believe my daughter, your queen, will lead us into a new era of prosperity and strength. People of Avaloria, I present to you Queen Aeliana!”

The crowd erupted into cheers, though the sound seemed distant, muffled by the rushing blood in my ears. Eira’s hand found mine again, her grip steady and grounding. I took a deep breath, my legs trembling as I prepared to step into the light.

I stepped out of the palace and moved to stand beside my father. Almost as if the moment had been preordained, the sun broke free from behind the heavy clouds. Its rays bathed the square in golden light, falling on me like a spotlight. The crowd gasped, their murmurs growing louder, and then the impossible began to unfold.

The weeds that had overtaken the square for years withered in the light, their twisted stalks curling into dust. The cracked cobblestones, worn and crumbling, seemed to brighten. Flowers, vivid and alive, sprouted from the old, caked flower boxes, their blossoms unfurling as though eager to greet the sun.

The murmurs turned into shouts.

“She’s beautiful!” someone cried, their voice cutting through the noise.

“Where has she been all this time?” another shouted, anger laced with awe.

“Why was she hidden from us?”

My heart ached at the questions. I glanced back at Eira, standing just out of view, her eyes filled with reassurance. Her silent support gave me the courage to face the crowd. My gaze swept over them, thousands of faces staring up at me. Some were filled with wonder, others with suspicion, but most carried the weariness of lives lived under a failing kingdom.

I hesitated, overwhelmed.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself as I stepped closer to the edge of the platform. The crowd’s murmurs quieted, their eyes fixed on me as the sunlight continued to pour over the square. My voice trembled at first, but I forced it to steady. They deserved the truth.  

“I grew up in Avaloria,” I began, letting my voice carry across the crowd. “I lived in the shadow of this palace, but not within its walls. I lived in the lower city, an orphan with no family and no knowledge of who I truly was. I had no idea that my parents, the king and queen of this kingdom, lived in the very building I grew up loathing.”

Gasps rippled through the square. I saw disbelief and confusion on their faces, but also curiosity. I pressed on, my voice growing stronger.  

“Eldra, the witch who stripped our king of his magic, did not just bind my magic. She masked my identity and placed me here, in Avaloria, as one of you. I grew up on these streets, fighting every day just like all of you, for my food, for my survival, for a future I never thought I could have.”

A murmur swept through the crowd, and I saw heads nodding. They understood this struggle because it was their struggle, too.  

“I have stood where you stand now,” I said, my voice ringing with conviction. “I listened, year after year, as the king decreed another search for the lost princess. I loathed her, just as many of you might have, because I did not know who she was or what she meant to this kingdom. I did not know she was me. Eldra’s curse kept me hidden, and my magic bound, until I made a sacrifice.”

The crowd stirred at this, their murmurs growing louder. What kind of sacrifice? I saw the questions on their faces, the unease mingled with hope.  

Before I could continue, my mother stepped forward, her hand slipping into mine.

“People of Avaloria,” Mother began, her voice clear and calm, “our daughter has endured what no child should. She was taken from us, hidden in plain sight, and forced to grow up without the love of her family. Less than two weeks ago, we made another call to help us find our daughter. No one came. It was then I decided to take matters into my own hands. I found four people that would travel with me, including my very own daughter that remained hidden from me. I had no idea I was traveling with her.

“Eldra’s curse on her could only be broken by Aeliana performing a deed that was profound and of pure heart.” Mother looked at me with tears in her eyes. “We had been attacked by Eldra’s forces. Aeliana was badly injured and left for dead while the rest of us were taken captive. Aeliana, although wounded, followed us, and at the moment Eldra was going to put me to death, Aeliana dove in front of me. Me. The person that had abandoned her. The person she despised her entire life because she rightfully blamed the king and me for her life of suffering. She took six arrows that were intended for me and as she lay dying in my lap, the curse broke, her identity was revealed and her magic released, healing her in the process.”

The crowd stood in heavy silence. I could see the emotions ripple through them, anger, disbelief, grief. But underneath it all, there was a dawning realization. Eldra's curse had stolen so much, not just from me, but from every single one of them. Their fields, their homes, their very lives had been choked by her darkness.  

My mother stepped closer, her presence commanding yet warm. Her voice, steady and full of quiet strength, reached into the hearts of the crowd.  

"Imagine yourself," she began, her gaze sweeping over them, "an orphan, growing up in these streets. Imagine the hardships, the hunger, the constant fight for survival. Now imagine discovering you are the lost princess of Avaloria, the key to restoring everything that was taken from this kingdom."  

She let the words linger, her eyes meeting those of the closest onlookers.  

"And imagine," she continued, her voice thick with emotion, "that this truth comes with immense magic, magic that could heal your home, but at great personal cost. She could have walked away. It would have been easier to run. But that is not who my daughter is. The same person who was willing to lay down her life to save me is now standing here to protect you."  

Her words washed over me, filling my chest with warmth that steadied my resolve. I stepped forward again, meeting the eyes of as many in the crowd as I could.  

“My mother is right,” I said, my voice strong despite the tightness in my throat. “I am here for all of you. But I will not lie to you, there is a new threat to Avaloria.”

The crowd tensed, the murmurs beginning to rise again. I raised a hand to silence them, and to my surprise, they obeyed.  

“Eldra and her army are coming,” I said. “She is broken, demented, and hungers for one thing: power. She will stop at nothing to get what she wants. We have only a few days before her forces reach our borders.”

Gasps rippled through the square, the fear palpable. I straightened, letting the truth of my determination show in every word.  

“I intend to meet her,” I declared. “I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. To protect this kingdom, our kingdom. But I cannot do it alone. I need you to believe, not just in me, but in Avaloria. In what we can be, together.”

For a long moment, the crowd was silent. Then, from somewhere near the center of the square, a voice rang out, clear and bold.  

“Long live Queen Aeliana!" “

The words hung in the air, and then others joined, the chant swelling like a tide. “Long live Queen Aeliana! Long live Queen Aeliana!”

The cheers rolled over me, washing away the lingering doubt in my chest. I glanced back at my parents, at Eira, at Thorne and Alric, and the captain of the guard. Their faces mirrored the same awe and determination I felt inside.  

With the crowd’s cries still echoing behind us, we turned and began the walk back to the palace. The sound of their faith and hope followed us all the way.

 

***

 

From the moment the proclamation echoed through the square, Avaloria seemed to come alive. Scouts began returning almost immediately, their reports confirming what we feared: Eldra's army was advancing and advancing faster than expected. The captain of the guard called for an emergency meeting that stretched late into the night, maps spread across the great hall’s war table, marking potential points of defense. Together, we debated strategies, eventually deciding on a location within Avaloria’s borders, a broad meadow just south of a narrow pass where the terrain would give us the advantage.  

Even as plans formed, I found my attention divided. Vanya had entrusted me with her thoughts on how to defeat Eldra’s syphoning magic. There were things she had said that struck a chord with me about familial magic. She had said my magic felt foreign to her and I still felt her magic inside me like something that didn’t quite belong. I spent every spare moment poring over her thoughts and ideas, adding visualizations that I hoped would give me an advantage.  

By midday, I couldn’t ignore the pull of the city. The people of Avaloria needed more than a momentary glimpse of me and a warning about Eldra and her army. They needed to see their queen. Draped in a simple cloak, I walked the streets, feeling the pulse of my kingdom in every step. I stopped to speak with bakers, weavers, blacksmiths, anyone who would listen.  

To the boy playing with a wooden sword in the square, I crouched low, smiling as I ruffled his hair. “Keep practicing. Every brave knight starts small.”

To the elderly woman sitting outside her crumbling home, I knelt and took her hands in mine. “I’m sorry things have been so hard for you.” With a boost of my magic her home knit itself back together. She didn’t speak, but her tears of gratefulness spoke for her.

I didn’t just speak; I listened. Their worries, their hopes, their anger. It was a symphony of emotions, and I carried each note with me, trying to memorize their stories and faces to strengthen my resolve.

By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, exhaustion had settled deep into my bones. I returned to the palace as the first stars began to dot the sky, my feet aching and my heart heavy with the enormity of what lay ahead.  

Collapsing onto my bed, I barely managed to kick off my shoes before sleep claimed me.

I wasn’t sure how long I had slept when I felt the bed shift beneath me. The familiar soft scent of lavender filled the air. I blinked groggily, turning my head to see Eira sliding beneath the covers, her arms wrapping tightly around me.  

Her face was half-hidden in the crook of my neck, but I could feel her trembling, the slight hitch in her breath giving away the tears she tried to suppress. “I know we ride out to meet Eldra tomorrow morning,” she whispered, her voice raw and quiet, “and today... today we barely had time together. I know I’m being selfish, Aeliana, but I needed this. I needed to be with you. Just for one night.”

Her words cracked, and I felt her tears dampen my skin. I turned toward her, cradling her face in my hands as I brushed the tears away with my thumbs. “Eira...” My voice was soft, aching with the weight of her pain, and my own.  

“I just wanted to be with you,” she continued, her voice barely audible now. “If... if something happens, I didn’t want to regret not being here. I just…”  

“Shh,” I murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I understand. I feel the same way.”  

Eira’s green eyes met mine, glistening in the faint light. She looked so vulnerable, so fragile, and yet I knew her strength ran far deeper than mine. I leaned in and kissed her, softly at first, a simple meeting of lips that carried more emotion than I could put into words.  

“I love you, Eira,” I whispered against her lips, my hands stroking her hair as I held her close. “More than anything.”  

She nodded, burying her face in my shoulder as I wrapped my arms around her. We stayed like that, tangled in each other’s embrace, letting the silence speak for us. It wasn’t the silence of the battlefield or the weight of unspoken fears; it was the quiet of understanding, of two hearts beating as one amidst the chaos of the world.   

Eira’s fingers traced idle patterns along my arm, her touch grounding me in the moment. I pulled her closer, running my hand down her back in soothing strokes. She whispered words of love and promises she wasn’t sure she could keep, and I answered with the same.   

Slowly, our light touches became more sensual and desperate, our connection and desires deepening with each kiss. We both knew this could be our last night together, even if it was our first. Our love for each other guided every move, touch, and kiss.

Hours later, when we were both satisfied and lay together in blissful aftermath of making love, Eira’s hand found mine beneath the blanket, her fingers intertwining with mine as we drifted into sleep. I held her tightly, letting her warmth and her presence anchor me, even as my own eyelids grew heavy.  

Just before sleep claimed me again, I murmured into the quiet darkness, “I will fight for us, Eira. For you. For us all.”  

And as her breath steadied and my heartbeat slowed, I let the comfort of her love carry me into dreams free of fear.

 

***

 

The steady rhythm of hooves against the dirt road echoed in the crisp morning air as we rode north. Eira rode beside me, her presence a constant comfort.  

Eira’s eyes flicked toward me, her expression soft but shadowed with worry. She reached up as if to tuck a stray lock of hair beneath her hood but quickly abandoned the motion when she noticed me watching her. I smiled and reached out, letting my gloved fingers clasp hers. Her cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink, but her hand squeezed mine firmly before she pulled away, her focus returning to the road ahead.  

The clink of armor announced Thorne’s approach as he guided his horse to my other side. His familiar smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but there was a hint of tension in his eyes. “You look rather splendid in that armor,” he said with mock seriousness, his tone light. “Almost like a real soldier.”  

I laughed softly, the sound cutting through the somber atmosphere. “Too bad armor doesn’t actually make me a soldier.”  

Thorne’s smile faded, his voice lowering. “You’ve more courage than most soldiers I have ever known, Aeliana. But I need you to listen.” He hesitated, his gaze steady on mine. “It has been an honor getting to know you.”  

A frown crept onto my face at his tone. “That sounds so final,” I said, the words tinged with unease.   

He nodded, his expression growing grim. “War is unpredictable. Anything can happen. It’s best to say what you need to while you can.” He paused, his voice softening. “I’m proud of you. You’ve stepped into a role no one could have prepared you for, and you’ve done it with grace and strength. But whatever happens out there, don’t let your emotions control you. Be thoughtful. Precise. Stay focused.”  

His words settled heavily in my chest, but I nodded. “Thank you, Thorne,” I said quietly, meaning it more than I could express.

My gaze drifted toward my father, who rode at the front of the column next to the captain of the guard. His back was straight, his posture strong, though I could see the tension in the way he held the reins. He looked better each day, his face fuller and his eyes sharp with purpose. Determination etched every line of his features, but there was something more, something resolute, as if he had already made peace with whatever was to come.

We continued to ride until the meadow stretched wide before us. The road narrowed sharply ahead, vanishing into the shadowy confines of a rocky pass. I pulled my horse to a halt and scanned the horizon, the silence around us broken only by the rhythmic beat of hooves pounding the earth.  

A scout galloped toward us, his mount frothing at the mouth as he skidded to a stop. His face was pale, his voice urgent. “My queen,” he began, his words tumbling out in a rush, “Eldra’s army is just a few miles behind me. Five hundred strong, heading straight for us.”  

The blood drained from my face as his words echoed in my ears. I glanced back at the fifty brave souls behind me. Soldiers, yes, but hardly enough to withstand the force of what was coming.  

I turned to face them, my voice trembling as I spoke, “Everyone go. I will stay. I will do what I can.”  

Eira’s sharp intake of breath cut through my despair, but before she could speak, another sound reached us, a rhythmic clatter of hooves coming from the south. My heart leaped into my throat as a new group of riders crested the hill.  

At their head was a figure I recognized instantly. Sebastian, the master of the thieves’ guild, dismounted with an easy grace and strode toward me, flanked by thirty men. Some bore the telltale slyness of thieves, their gazes sharp and their movements deliberate. Others were clearly townsfolk, blacksmiths, merchants, and even a handful of farmers, their faces hardened with quiet resolve.  

Sebastian bowed low, his voice smooth as silk but tinged with genuine respect. “My queen.”  

I blinked at him, startled. “Sebastian,” I said, my voice wary, “what are you doing here?”  

He straightened, his expression a careful mask of calm. “I have heard word from my counterpart in Rylos. Eldra’s rule is... dark.” His voice dropped, the weight of his words chilling. “Her magic is devouring the life around her, people, animals, even the land itself. Cities are crumbling in her wake. If she is not stopped, it will not be long before her blight consumes us all.”  

My confusion deepened, though his words struck true. “And you care about Avaloria now?” I asked, my tone sharper than I intended.  

Sebastian offered a wry smile. “Let us say I have seen the renewal you have brought already, my queen. This kingdom stands a chance because of you. Besides...” His grin widened, his roguish charm shining through. “It doesn’t hurt to get on your good side, now does it?”  

Eira huffed beside me, clearly unimpressed, but I felt a spark of hope stir within me as I looked over Sebastian’s group. Their presence improved our numbers. It wasn’t enough to match Eldra’s forces, but it was more than I had dared hope for.  

“Thank you,” I said, my voice steadying as I met Sebastian’s gaze. “Whatever your reasons, Avaloria will not forget this.”  

Sebastian inclined his head. “Let us not waste time with speeches, my queen. Eldra approaches. Where do you want us?”  

I turned to Thorne and Captain Malcom, determination hardening my resolve. “I think... I think I can create a landslide. I suggest we hold the pass. We use the narrow terrain to our advantage and make her pay for every step she takes into Avaloria.”  

Thorne nodded, his face grim but approving. “A sound plan. We will make them regret coming here. Might I suggest using anyone that can use a bow to take positions on the cliffs above the road. They can rain down arrows on any that survive.”  

I nodded as I wondered if I could bring the mountainside down. It would be the largest use of magic I had ever tried.

A mixture of guards, citizens, and Sebatian’s men were quickly organized and raced to get into position leaving about forty of us.

At my word, the remaining soldiers began to spread out, finding their positions along the edge of the meadow and nearer to the pass.

Before I could gather my thoughts, Eira pressed herself against me, her hands trembling slightly as they cupped my face. Her lips found mine in a fierce, urgent kiss, and I felt the tears she couldn’t hold back against my cheek. When she pulled away, her eyes were full of raw emotion.  

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice breaking just enough to make my chest tighten.  

I brushed my fingers over her cheek, memorizing the feel of her warmth. “I love you, too,” I replied, my voice steady despite the storm inside me.  

Before I could say more, my mother appeared, pulling me into a tight embrace. Her familiar scent was comforting and bittersweet. “You are stronger than you know,” she said softly. She kissed my forehead and stepped aside for my father, who held me next.  

His hands gripped my shoulders firmly, his eyes boring into mine with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. “You are my daughter,” he said, his voice filled with quiet pride. “My queen. Whatever happens, you have made Avaloria proud.” He kissed my cheek and pulled back, his grim determination mirrored in his gaze.  

Thorne came up next, his usual stern demeanor softened with something close to affection. He clapped me on the shoulder with enough force to nearly make me stumble. “Don’t go getting yourself killed now,” he said with a wry smile.  

I smirked, the tension easing for a moment. “You either, Thorne. You are far too big for anyone to drag back to Avaloria.”  

His laughter rumbled low, but his eyes betrayed his worry. “Fair enough, my queen.”  

Then came Alric, his expression one of quiet reverence. He didn’t hesitate, pulling me into a hug that felt more like a promise. “You are the best person I know,” he said softly.   

I leaned back just enough to meet his gaze. “You have been my moral compass, Alric,” I told him, the words tumbling out before I could think. “You taught me there is more to life than myself. I will never forget that.”  

He smiled faintly, giving my shoulders one last squeeze before stepping back.  

I turned to the rest, my voice clear and steady. “Spread out. Stay hidden until the moment is right. Do not risk yourselves unless you must.”  

They nodded, their expressions a mixture of solemnity and fierce resolve.  

I adjusted my sword at my hip, taking a deep breath. The meadow stretched out before me, the rocky mouth of the pass looming like the gates of an uncertain future. Without waiting for anyone to stop me, I took a step forward.  

The world seemed to hold its breath as I walked toward the pass, each step carrying me closer to a confrontation I had no idea if I would survive. Behind me, the murmurs of my companions faded into silence, and all that remained was the sound of my heartbeat.

A flash of sunlight reflecting off a mirror high on the hillside caught my eye, a brief and brilliant signal against the dull gray of the rocks. My chest tightened. That was it, the confirmation that Eldra and her army had entered the pass.  

I took a steadying breath, letting my hands rest at my sides as I gathered my thoughts. The next signal would come soon, the one telling me it was time to act. Around me, the world seemed to hold its breath. Even the whispers of the wind had stilled, leaving only the faint rustle of movement from the soldiers hidden behind me.  

Closing my eyes, I began to visualize. I pictured the steep rock walls on either side of the pass, their jagged edges and loose boulders teetering precariously. I saw in my mind’s eye how they would crumble, cascading down onto the road below. I imagined the sound of it, the deep rumble of earth shifting, the sharp cracks of stone breaking free. I could almost taste the grit of dust in the air and feel the tremor of the ground beneath my boots.  

When the second flash of light came, I didn’t hesitate. I reached deep within myself, to the wellspring of magic that had only recently been unbound. I shaped my will into a single, focused thought: Collapse.

The magic surged through me, a torrent of power that coursed like fire through my veins. I stretched my arms forward, palms open, and released it. For a long, agonizing moment, nothing happened. Only the steady flow of energy leaving me gave any indication that my magic was working.  

Then it came.  

A low, resonant crack split the air, louder than thunder, followed by a series of sharp snaps that echoed through the pass. The ground trembled beneath my feet, and a deep groan rose from the mountains as the rock walls began to give way.  

It started slowly, small stones bouncing and tumbling down the slopes, kicking up clouds of dirt. Then, with a deafening roar, the walls of the pass collapsed inward. Massive slabs of rock broke free, crashing down onto the narrow road like the wrath of the gods themselves.  

Behind me, cheers erupted from my people, their voices ringing out in triumph. But I couldn’t turn to celebrate. My gaze was fixed on the pass, where the screams of Eldra’s army pierced the air.  

A billowing cloud of dust surged out like an explosion, rolling toward me with relentless force. It swallowed the pass, obscuring everything from view. I could only hear the chaos of their voices rising above the roar of settling debris and the twang of bows.

The taste of dust filled my mouth, and I coughed as I stood my ground. The screams, panicked and pain-filled, told me that the trap had worked, but they also clawed at my heart. I clenched my fists, trying to steel myself against the sounds of suffering.  

This was war. It was the price of defending Avaloria. But that knowledge didn’t stop the ache in my chest.

A stiff breeze swept across the meadow carrying the choking dust away and revealing the aftermath of the collapse. My heart froze as a figure emerged from the haze, striding forward with eerie calm. Eldra. She looked untouched by the chaos, her black robes flowing gracefully, her face unmarred by the grit and grime of the pass. Behind her marched at least sixty soldiers, their weapons gleaming in the afternoon sun, their formation disciplined despite the destruction they had just endured.  

Eldra’s laugh rang out, sharp and cold, cutting through the lingering cries of the wounded and dying. “I admit, that was well done,” she said, her voice smooth with mockery. Her eyes glinted as she raised a hand, her fingers twitching in a careless gesture.   

A chorus of screams ripped through the air. My head snapped toward the sound just in time to see our archers hurled from the hillsides, their bodies tumbling like leaves caught in a violent gust. Horror clawed at my throat, but I forced myself to stand tall, even as my heart ached for those we had lost.  

Clenching my fists, I reached for my magic again. If she could do this, then so could I. I envisioned the ground beneath her remaining soldiers turning to liquid, swallowing them whole, or boulders crashing down from unseen heights. But the moment I tried to unleash my magic, it hit an invisible wall. Eldra's magic.  

She strode closer, stopping about fifty paces away. Her presence was suffocating, her smirk dripping with cruel amusement.  

“Aeliana, I presume,” she said, tilting her head as though appraising me. “I found my dead in the ruined temple. You look so much better now as a woman. You’re a princess now.” Her tone was light, almost conversational, but it made my skin crawl. “Did you know that I checked in on you from time to time? Oh, yes. I even gave money through an anonymous source to Sebastian. You’d be surprised how little it took to ensure your life was as miserable as possible.”  

Her words hit like a slap, each one laced with venom. My breath caught in my chest, fury and disbelief warring within me. Before I could respond, a glint of gold caught my eye.  

A dagger flew, straight and true, aimed at Eldra’s head. My heart leaped at the sight, but she waved it away with a flick of her wrist as though brushing aside a bothersome insect. The blade spun harmlessly to the ground.  

Eira’s scream ripped through the air. My blood turned to ice as I saw her lifted off her feet, dragged across the meadow as though caught by an invisible hook. She clawed at the air, her face twisted in terror.  

“No!” I screamed, my voice breaking. Magic surged in me again, hotter and wilder than before. A fireball erupted from my hands, roaring toward Eldra.  

My magic punched through some of her defenses, the flames consumed several of her soldiers, their cries echoing across the field, but Eldra herself stood untouched. She laughed again, the sound as cruel as it was triumphant, and with a careless flick of her fingers, tossed Eira to the ground.  

Eira hit the earth hard, her body crumpling and motionless. My heart shattered at the sight, rage and despair flooding my veins.  

“So much power, Aeliana,” Eldra said, stepping over the scorched bodies of her fallen soldiers without a hint of concern. “And yet, such a novice.”  

Her voice was calm, but her eyes burned with malevolence as she stared me down. The battlefield fell eerily silent, save for the groans of the wounded and the distant crackle of dying flames. I clenched my fists, trembling with fury.

Eldra’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade, sharp and merciless. “Kill them all,” she commanded, her finger pointing directly at me. “But this one is mine.”  

The moment her words ended, I felt a pull so intense it nearly drove me to the ground. Her magic latched onto me, and the sensation was horrifying, like invisible hooks digging into my soul and ripping away my essence. The pain was unbearable, a burning and hollowing all at once. My knees buckled, and I gasped, struggling to keep my footing.  

Around me, the battlefield erupted into chaos. Alric unleashed blazing fireballs, the heat of them cutting through the icy grip of despair that Eldra’s magic brought. Thorne was a whirlwind of fury, his massive frame barreling through Eldra’s soldiers like a storm given form. His presence alone was a beacon amidst the haze of pain and panic, and through my blurred vision, his earlier words echoed in my mind:   

“Don't let your emotions take over. Be calm. Precise.”

I closed my eyes, forcing my focus inward. Eldra’s laughter rang out, cold and triumphant, as the siphoning intensified. I could feel my strength slipping away, my magic unraveling like a loose thread pulled too tight.  

But I wasn’t done, not yet.   

Vanya’s teachings came rushing back, her words, carefully and thoughtfully written were a quiet counterpoint to Eldra’s malice: Illusions deceive even the strongest minds when crafted with care. Control the flow, guide the vision.

Drawing on everything Vanya had taught me, I crafted a vision in my mind, a seamless illusion of my magic slipping away, pouring into Eldra like an unstoppable flood. I shaped the sensation with painstaking care, molding it with precision and intent. To her, it would feel real.  

The moment I released the illusion, the pull on my magic ceased. The pain stopped so abruptly it left me dizzy, but I held my focus. Eldra laughed maniacally, the sound twisted with glee.  

I dropped to my knees, letting out a raw, guttural scream that tore through the battlefield. The sound wasn’t entirely feigned; it carried the weight of my rage and anguish, amplified to feed the illusion. Eldra bought it entirely, her laughter swelling with delight as if savoring her apparent victory.  

Inside, I steadied myself, calm and precise.

As I knelt, the false vision of my magic draining into Eldra still firmly in place, I began crafting my second strike. This one had to be subtle, precise, like a needle threading its way through the chaos of her immense power.  

I closed my eyes, reaching out with my magic, careful not to tip my hand. The threads of my magic slithered toward her like silent tendrils, seeking the heart of her power. It was overwhelming when I found it, a vast pool of foreign magics swirling together, each with its own unique signature. Some were small, faint, flickering like dying embers. Others burned brightly, immense reservoirs of stolen strength.  

My magic brushed against one of the largest pools, and something stirred deep inside me. It was familiar, a warmth I couldn’t ignore. My breath caught. This magic wasn’t hers. It was mine, or rather, it was my father’s. I recognized it immediately, tied to the bloodline we shared.  

Without hesitation, I tugged on it, willing it back to where it belonged. The response was instantaneous and ferocious. The magic surged toward me like a raging tide, filling me with a strength I hadn’t known before. Eldra’s scream of pain ripped through the battlefield, raw and piercing.  

Her grip tightened, and I felt her push back, desperately trying to reclaim what I had taken. The meadow erupted with wild arcs of energy, purple sparks tearing through the earth, splitting the air with thunderous cracks. The ground trembled beneath us, the clash of our wills rippling outward.  

I held firm, teeth clenched, forcing myself to remain focused despite the chaos. But in the corner of my eye, I saw him, my father, rushing forward, his sword glinting in the fractured light of the battlefield. His expression was fierce, determined, his every movement a declaration of defiance.  

“No!” I screamed, but it was too late.  

Eldra’s eyes flicked toward him, a flash of disdain crossing her face. With a flick of her wrist, a blast of magic erupted from her hand, striking him before he could reach her.  

Time seemed to slow as I watched him crumple at her feet, the sword slipping from his grasp and clattering to the ground.  

“Father!” The word tore from my throat, raw and broken.  

The surge of grief and fury threatened to overwhelm me, but I couldn’t afford to lose control now. Eldra’s laughter returned, mocking and triumphant.  

“You see, child?” she sneered. “No one can stand against me, not even your precious father that you never got to know.”  

Her words fueled the fire burning inside me. I tightened my grip on the stolen magic, feeling it pulse within me, stronger and brighter than ever.

The battlefield roared around me, metal clashing, shouts mingling with cries of pain, and the crackling hum of magic tearing through the air. Eldra’s power pressed against mine, unrelenting and razor-sharp. The ground trembled as our wills collided, each of us pulling and pushing with everything we had.  

I clenched my fists, forcing my focus to remain steady. In my mind’s eye, I saw Avaloria, its streets hollow and empty, its people gaunt and suffering under Eldra’s shadow. I saw my father, lifeless at her feet, his sacrifice staining the ground where he fell.   

Tears blurred my vision, but I forced them back. Focus, Aeliana. You can grieve later.

I thought of my mother’s strength, the way she had held me close and whispered her belief in me. Thorne, fierce and unyielding, crashing into the enemy like an unstoppable force. Alric, his magic a beacon of hope even as he fought with everything he had.   

And then, I saw her, Eira. She was stirring, pushing herself up on shaky arms, her face pale and determined. Relief flooded me for a heartbeat, until I saw the soldier. He was barreling toward her, sword raised, his intent clear.  

“Eira!” The scream tore from my throat before I could stop it.  

Instinct overruled reason, and I lashed out with magic. A wave of force exploded from me, hurling the soldier into the forest. I heard the sickening crack of his body colliding with trees, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t lose Eira, not her.  

But in that split second, I faltered.  

Eldra’s laughter cut through the air like a blade. I turned back to her, my chest heaving, and felt it immediately, her magic tightening its grip around mine, her will seizing the opening I had given her.  

“No,” I whispered, panic clawing at my throat.  

The pull on my magic was agonizing now, a relentless drain that left me gasping for breath. I tried to push back, but it was like fighting against a tide too powerful to resist.  

Eldra’s grin widened, smug and victorious. “You’re strong, little one, but strength means nothing without focus. You’ve already lost.”  

I dropped to one knee, trembling under the weight of her power. My vision blurred again, this time from exhaustion. I could feel my magic slipping away, siphoned into the void of her endless hunger.  

Drawing on the last reserves of my strength, I gritted my teeth and anchored myself in the one thing that Eldra couldn’t touch, my love for the people I fought for.  

“You’re wrong,” I growled, forcing myself to my feet. My voice was hoarse but steady. “This isn’t over.”

I focused everything I had into pulling her magic into me. Our battle, tearing us both apart. Then, I could barely comprehend what I was seeing. My father moved. He reached for his sword, rolled, and thrust it into Eldra’s chest with all the strength he had.   

Time seemed to stop. Eldra’s eyes widened in shock, her laughter turning into a ragged gasp. A keening wail escaped her lips as her magic unraveled, rushing toward me in torrents. I staggered as the raw, unfiltered power filled me, threatening to overwhelm my senses.  

Eldra dropped to her knees, clutching at the sword buried in her chest. Her screams pierced the air, filled with agony and defiance as her life drained away.  

I barely had a moment to breathe before her fury lashed out one final time. With a violent surge of magic, she unleashed a blast that struck my father. He flew like a broken doll, exploding in a burst of fire.  

“No!” My voice cracked as I knew he was gone forever, but there was no time to grieve, not yet.  

The last vestiges of Eldra’s magic poured into me, a chaotic storm of raw power. I gritted my teeth, forcing it to bend to my will. Eldra’s body crumpled to the ground, lifeless, her reign of terror finally at an end.  

But the battle wasn’t over.   

The remnants of her army still fought, their movements sluggish and uncertain without her command. My blood boiled as I looked at them, mercenaries and loyalists who had fought for Eldra’s darkness, now leaderless and desperate.  

“Enough!” My voice thundered across the battlefield, amplified by the magic coursing through me.   

With barely a thought, I reached out and seized them all. Bands of shimmering magic wrapped around their bodies, yanking them from the chaos and dragging them together in a huddled, trembling mass. They struggled, but it was useless.  

I held them there, suspended in my power, as silence fell over the meadow. The fighting stopped, the clashing of swords giving way to the ragged breaths of the wounded and the dying.   

Eldra was dead.  

The battle was over.

The enormity of the battle crushed me, each breath a struggle against the death and devastation that had been wrought. The world around me felt like it was slipping away, the ground beneath me unsteady as I surveyed the carnage. My vision blurred with tears, and the ragged, tortured sobs that escaped my chest seemed foreign, as though they came from someone else.  

I couldn’t stop the flood of emotion, grief, regret, horror, all swirled together like the smoke rising from the ashes. I didn’t want to feel any of it.  

But the soft pressure on my shoulders broke through the haze of despair. Eira. Her arms wrapped around me, pulling me against her as she whispered through my hair, “You did it. She’s gone. It’s over now.”  

I shuddered, and all the grief that I had forced away in the battle came crashing down on me. My hands trembled as I leaned into her, desperate to hold onto something, anything that felt real.  

It was then that I heard the cry.  

My mother.  

I turned just in time to see her collapse, her face pale with shock and grief. My heart lurched in my chest as she wept for the loss of my father, her sobs wracking her fragile form.   

“Mother,” I whispered, but the sound of her cries drowned out everything else.  

Alric was by her side instantly, kneeling beside her, pressing her head into his chest as he whispered soothing words.  

But the world still moved on. The enemy soldiers, though defeated, remained bound by my magic. They struggled but were powerless, the lingering remnants of Eldra’s influence already fading from the field.  

Eldra was dead, but the cost was too much.  

“Aeliana,” Alric called, his voice sharp, urgent. “We need you to help. There are injured.”  

I nodded, my gaze lost as I turned away from the grief, focusing on the task at hand. There were people to help, and for a moment, I could put my sorrow aside.  

Eira stayed close, her presence helping me as we moved toward the wounded.  

They were everywhere.   

I didn’t care about finesse, about precision. I didn’t need it. All that mattered was healing. The faces were blurred, the cries of pain mixed with the screams of those who might never walk again. But I didn’t hesitate.  

I reached deep inside, pulling every ounce of magic I had, raw and untamed. The energy surged through me, flooding my hands as I placed them on each soldier, each injured civilian. I didn’t think, didn’t question. I let the magic do its work, stitching wounds, mending broken bones, breathing life back into those who had almost lost it.   

I didn’t even feel the strain. The magic flowed freely from me, filling every person I touched with a healing warmth, restoring what had been shattered. But with each touch, I could feel my energy slipping from me. It was all I could do to keep going, to push forward for them.  

I couldn’t think about anything else. I just had to keep moving, keep healing.

When there were no more Avaloria citizens to heal, I stood amidst the chaos. Eldra’s soldiers were still bound by my magic. The echoes of Eldra’s final scream still reverberated in my mind, and I couldn’t shake the image of my father’s death. Mother was sleeping. I suspected Alric’s magic helped her to sleep to cope with her loss.

People began to turn toward me, faces painted with exhaustion and hope. I was their queen now. We had managed a victory, but I felt like a child standing among giants, too young, too inexperienced to bear the weight of what came next.

I didn’t know what to do. I had no answers.  

Thorne’s massive hand fell on my shoulder, pulling me aside, and I looked up to meet his steady gaze. His eyes were gentle, his expression both kind and firm.  

“Aeliana,” he said quietly. “You have done well, but I can see the strain. I know you feel like everything is on your shoulders now. Yes, you are the queen, but that does not mean you must bear it alone. Trust the people around you. They want to help, give them purpose. Delegate. Focus on what only you can do.”  

His words gave me strength and I realized I did not have to do everything. I had fought, I had led, but I was still human, still overwhelmed by the enormity of what lay ahead. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I nodded.  

“Thank you, Thorne,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. He gave me a reassuring nod.  

The people needed me to be strong now. To lead them. I pushed my emotions to the back of my mind and took a deep breath, finding my voice, finding the resolve that had carried me through the battle.

“Captain Malcom,” I said, my voice carrying across the still meadow. “Send someone back to Avaloria immediately. The people need to know we have won. They need to hear of our victory over Eldra, to feel safe again.”  

The captain saluted, his expression filled with pride, and I saw a flicker of relief in his eyes. I turned to the rest of the assembled soldiers, their faces expectant, waiting for my next command.  

“We are not done yet,” I continued, my voice growing stronger, more assured. “There may be survivors in the hills. Spread out and search. If you find anyone alive, bring them back. I will heal as many as I can.”  

There was renewed energy in the air as they moved to obey. I watched them go.

Eira stood beside me, her eyes full of worry and love. I reached for her hand, squeezing it tight as I gathered my thoughts. There was so much to do, too much for one person, but I would take it one step at a time.  

Alric approached me, his face serious and voice calm despite the chaos around us. “If I might suggest something, my queen,” he said. It was the first time he had ever called me by that title without the usual teasing note in his voice. There was no trace of jest now, only respect.

“Of course, Alric,” I replied, feeling the tension in my chest ease a fraction. I trusted him, trusted his insight even when I doubted my own.

He gestured to Eldra's soldiers, still bound by my magic. “Look at them, Aeliana. They don’t have the look of men who believed in a cause. They were fighting because they had no other choice, because they were afraid. They have wounded among them too. And now, they are leaderless, without a king, without a purpose. Whatever you decide to do with them... do so carefully.”

Alric had always been the one to guide me, to help me see things clearly when everything else was in chaos. He had always taught me to think on my own but had gently guided my steps in the right direction. He was doing so again, pointing out things I would have missed but letting me choose my own path.

“Thank you, Alric,” I said, forcing a weak smile. I knew what I had to do, even though part of me longed to rest, to retreat, mourn, and hide. I walked towards the prisoners. I stopped in front of them, releasing a slow breath.

“Who is in charge here?” I asked, my voice steady, even though I felt anything but.

A large man nodded, his gaze meeting mine with a mix of wariness and exhaustion. “I was a lieutenant,” he said. “There is none left of higher rank, so I guess it is me. My name is Bertol.”

I nodded, my magic still holding them fast. “I want to heal your wounded,” I said. “But if I release you, I need your assurance that you will not attack me or my people.”

Bertol’s brow furrowed, his confusion evident. “Why would you do that?” he asked, his voice heavy with disbelief. “Why would you heal our wounded? We attacked you.”

I took a deep breath, steadying myself before answering. “May I ask you why you attacked us?” I countered. I watched as he struggled to form a response.

When he spoke, his voice was low and unsteady, carrying the hardness of his truth. “I can only speak for myself,” he began, eyes turning distant as if he were seeing the events all over again. “When Eldra killed our king and all his heirs, I was there. I saw her power, felt it, and I feared it.” His face twisted with the memory, and his next words were thick with emotion. “I have a family. A wife... children. I fought because I saw what happened to those who defied Eldra, they were publicly murdered, their bodies left as a warning. I fought because it was the only way I could protect them. The only way I knew to keep them safe.”

I listened, feeling a hollow ache settle in my chest. His words carried the kind of fear I had come to know too well, the desperate, suffocating kind that leaves you feeling like there are no good choices, only ones that hurt less.

I nodded, understanding more than I wanted to admit. “Let me heal your wounded,” I said, releasing the grip my magic held over them. “Then you are free to leave in peace. Return to your families. But,” I paused, letting my voice harden, “a warning. I will not hesitate to defend myself or my people if you attack. My mercy has its limits.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, one by one, the soldiers began to drop their weapons. The clang of swords hitting the ground echoed across the meadow, and I watched as they knelt, bowing their heads. A strange stillness settled over me, and I felt Eira’s presence beside me, her hand resting on my arm.

 

***

 

The next few hours were a blur of exhaustion and purpose. I moved from one wounded person to the next, pouring raw magic into their injuries. My body ached with the strain, and I felt Eira’s steadying hand on my shoulder more than once. I did not differentiate between my own people and Eldra’s soldiers. Blood was blood, and suffering was suffering. Bertol's words had lingered in my mind, reminding me that even the enemy had families, loved ones they fought to protect.

When the wounded were seen to, I turned my magic to the rockslide that had blocked the road, shifting massive stones and clearing the debris with a sweep of my hand. To my relief, most of the Eldra’s army had escaped before the rockfall, and I only found a few who had not managed to get out in time. I laid them gently to rest, feeling the incredible burden of each life lost as another thing I would have to carry for the rest of my life.

The battle was over. Now, the only direction left was home.

Bertol stood in front of what remained of Eldra’s soldiers, a much larger force than I had anticipated. As we cleared the road, they had regrouped, forming a line of weary and silent men and women. Hundreds of them, their eyes full of uncertainty and the shadow of defeat. I stopped before them, feeling their gaze on me like the chill of the northern wind. Then Bertol stepped forward. He dropped to one knee, bowing his head low, and the soldiers followed, a wave of movement as they sank to the ground.

“Speaking for myself, Queen Aeliana,” Bertol said, his voice carrying across the silent field, “you are welcome in Rylos, welcome in my home. We may need your help to rebuild.”

I managed a tired smile, feeling a strange warmth at his words. “I will do what I can,” I promised, my voice soft but firm. “Go in peace.”

I turned and walked south to where my people had gathered. I saw Sebastian waiting, his face alight with that all-too-familiar greedy glint. I met his gaze with a steady calm I did not feel, feeling the old anger stir within me.

“Thank you, Sebastian,” I said, keeping my tone even. “I am in your debt.”

His smile widened, slick and triumphant. “I do love hearing anyone say those words, but coming from the Queen of Avaloria, they are extra special.”

I continued, “As repayment,” I said, letting my voice sharpen like the edge of a blade, “I will not throw you and your men in the dungeon for the atrocities you have committed, the debts you have heaped upon the orphans, keeping them bound to you for their entire lives.”

His face paled, the confident smile crumbling into shock, but I pressed on without mercy. “I am giving you a chance, a week, to present me with a legitimate, legal business model. One that does not rely on exploitation or manipulation.” My eyes narrowed, and I let him see the determination burning there. “You have a week, Sebastian. Do not waste it.”

His face went ashen, lips parting to argue or plead, but no words came. He simply stood there, stunned.

The journey back to Avaloria passed in a blur. We rode for hours in near silence. Yet, as we approached the capital, I noticed something strange, a crowd forming, gathering along the edges of the road. They started as small clusters in the countryside, but as we were nearing the city, the numbers swelled, until the streets themselves were lined with people.

They cheered, they called my name, they shouted their thanks to a queen they barely knew, a queen who had fought for them. I tried to smile, to acknowledge their gratitude, but my face felt numb, my heart heavy with everything I had seen, the loss of life, including my own father, and everything I had done. I lifted a hand in a vague wave as we passed by, but my mind was far away, still haunted by the faces of the dying, by my father's last sacrifice, by the darkness I had ripped from Eldra’s soul.

By the time we reached the palace, the crowd had become a throng, their cheers blending into a dull roar that echoed through the palace halls. It was all I could do to stand upright, to focus enough to direct the swarming staff who seemed to appear out of nowhere, bubbling with excitement and relief, eager to serve.

“Prepare food,” I managed to say, my voice sounding thin and distant even to my own ears. “Make sure everyone who needs food is taken care of. And my mother…” My voice cracked, but I forced myself to continue. “Make sure she has everything she needs.”

I turned to Eira then, and in the chaos and noise of the palace, I said the only words that mattered, my voice breaking. “I need you.”

Eira’s eyes softened, and she nodded, understanding everything I could not say aloud. She stepped forward, taking charge with a quiet authority, gently but firmly directing the staff away, assuring them she would look after their queen.

When we finally reached my chambers, the door closing behind us with a heavy, final thud, the dam inside me broke. A keening wail tore from my throat, raw and desperate, and I collapsed to my knees, my arms wrapping around Eira’s waist. I buried my face in the familiar warmth of her, sobs wracking my body until I could barely breathe. All the grief I had held back for the sake of my people, for the sake of duty, came pouring out, rage, exhaustion, guilt, relief.

Eira held me through it all, her hands stroking my hair, her voice whispering soft reassurances I couldn’t hear over the storm of my own cries. I clung to her like a lifeline, feeling her solid presence as the one anchor in a world that had shifted beneath my feet, and I cried until there were no more tears left.

 

***

 

A heated exchange just beyond my chambers pulled me from a muddled haze of sleep and grief. The captain's voice was low but insistent, demanding, and I recognized the stern authority that brooked no disagreement.

“I need to meet with the queen to organize the remaining palace guards,” he said, frustration leaking into his tone.

But it was Eira’s response that made my heart flutter. She was fierce, protective. “And I am telling you not now. She needs rest.” There was a hard edge to her voice that I had rarely heard, a forcefulness that even the captain seemed to stumble over.

“I don’t recognize your authority here,” he shot back, voice rising in frustration.

I fumbled for the edges of my robe, barely registering how I had ended up in bed at all. Pulling it around me, I stepped toward the doorway and cleared my throat. “Enough, Captain.”

His eyes widened as he turned to face me. I must have looked a sight, disheveled, weary, wrapped in a loose, hastily-tied robe, but it didn’t matter. There was no room for debate.

“I will meet with you later today,” I said, keeping my voice steady even though it felt like my world was still spinning off its axis. “And as for Eira's authority... you will treat her as you would treat me. She is my equal, and you will respect that.”

He stuttered, clearly taken aback, his composure cracking under my direct gaze. “Y-yes, my queen,” he managed, bowing with a stiff, reluctant obedience.

Eira’s eyes relaxed as she gently closed the door. For a moment, we were alone again, the tension and noise of the palace muffled by the thick wooden door. She turned to me, her expression filled with both apology and relief. “I’m sorry, Aeliana. I have tried to keep people away so you can rest and process things.”

Before she could say another word, I stepped forward and pulled her into my arms, kissing her with all the intensity of the emotions still roiling inside me. I felt her hands come up to cradle my face.

“I love you, Eira,” I whispered against her lips, barely able to believe how much I meant it, how those words had become my only truth. “I don’t even remember getting into bed.”

Her eyes were tender as she rested her forehead against mine. “I took care of you,” she said softly. “I hope I can always be there for you.”

I let out a shaky breath, leaning into her, feeling the weariness settle deep in my bones.

“Are you hungry?” she asked gently. “How about a bath?”

I offered a weak smile, my fingers curling around the soft fabric of her shirt. “Both,” I admitted. “At the same time. With you... and no one else.”

A smile spread across her face, softening the harsh lines of exhaustion etched into both our expressions. She kissed my forehead, her touch gentle and reassuring, and for a moment, I allowed myself to be weak, to lean into her strength, to let her take care of me. She deserved that, and I needed it more than I could say.

 

***

 

The gown flowed around me like a soft cascade of sunlight as I moved. It was simple but elegant, an ivory dress with delicate gold embroidery, chosen with care by the staff. Eira was by my side, our hands brushing briefly. Whatever had passed between us in those quiet hours, bathing, eating, just being together had bolstered us both in ways I hadn’t expected.

As we stepped into the hallway, I was met with a line of waiting staff. I had thought I would be overwhelmed, but instead, I felt... relaxed. There was a strength in me, something settled and steady. One by one, they came forward with their requests, concerns about the kitchens, arrangements for supplies, whispers of unrest, and I listened. I took my time, asking each one how they were holding up, pressing for names and details. It wasn’t something I had ever been taught to do, yet it felt right. This was my home now. These were my people.

Eira’s quiet presence at my side made it easier. Each time I felt the enormity of it all threatening to press down, I would feel the lightest touch of her. When the last of the staff were taken care of, we made our way through the palace corridors to my mother's quarters.

When we knocked softly and stepped inside at no response, I wasn’t prepared for the impact of what I saw. My mother was there, lying on her bed, her body wrapped around a handful of my father’s clothes. The grief so raw it took my breath away. The sight of her, usually so regal and composed, reduced to this desperate, crumpled state, tore at something inside me.

Eira’s fingers tightened briefly around mine, then let go. She moved back with careful grace, her expression drawn but understanding. “Take your time,” she said softly. “I will be right outside.”

I wanted to tell her to stay, to be my anchor as she had been all my life, but the silent plea in Eira’s eyes told me she knew better. She understood my mother and I would need some time alone together. I nodded, giving her hand one last squeeze before she stepped out and closed the door behind her.

For a long moment, I just stood there, feeling the cool draft of the room settle around me. Then, slowly, I approached the bed. My mother did not move, did not acknowledge my presence. She was holding one of my father’s tunics, clinging to it like a lifeline, her fingers digging into the fabric until her knuckles were white.

“Mother,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, afraid that anything louder might shatter what little strength she had left.

She didn’t look at me, didn’t respond. Her face was buried in the folds of his clothes, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. My heart broke a little more at the sight, but I swallowed my own grief and knelt beside the bed, reaching out to place a hand on her back.

There was a long, shuddering breath, then another. Slowly, she lifted her head, her eyes red and swollen, a wild, wounded look in them. “He’s gone, Aeliana,” she said, her voice cracked and hoarse. “He’s really gone.”

I swallowed back my own tears, my hand stilling against her back. “I know,” I said, my voice breaking despite myself.

“He saved me,” I whispered, my voice barely holding together. “I don't know how he survived her attack, but he saved me. He saved all of us.”

My mother sat up slowly, and I moved closer, letting her wrap her arms around me. We held each other tightly, the shared warmth a comfort to us both. Her hands gripped my back, fierce and desperate, as if letting go might break her all over again. But then she pulled back, just enough to look into my eyes.

“We planned it,” she said. “Everything but his death.”

I blinked, confused. “Planned what?”

She sighed, her eyes falling to the worn tunic still clutched in her lap. “We didn’t want to tell you. We couldn’t. Your father and I had to consider the blood oath between him and Eldra... it was too dangerous. We knew you would be her target, and we knew you would need to be focused on her.”

She hesitated. “The blood oath bound Eldra, preventing her from killing him outright, so we thought he would have the best chance to get close enough. I was using my magic to shield him... to keep him alive when she attacked.” Her gaze grew distant, lost in the memory. “But between the magical currents you and Eldra unleashed, and her final strike, it took everything I had.”

“I thought he was dead,” I said, my voice barely audible.

“He was dying,” she said, her fingers trembling as they twisted the fabric in her hands. “I poured every drop of my magic into him... just enough to hold him together, to keep him alive until he could make his move. He waited for the right moment, Aeliana. He had to. But in doing so... in raising his sword against her, he broke his side of the blood oath.” Her breath hitched, and I saw the tears brimming in her eyes, mirroring my own.

“I didn’t...” My words caught, a sob rising unbidden in my throat. “I didn’t know.”

“He was prepared to die, Aeliana. He knew what it could cost him. It was his way of making up for everything. For the bargain he made with Eldra, for your loss, and for the plight of Avaloria.”

I choked back a sob, the enormity of what she was saying crashing over me. All those moments I thought he was gone, that he had been taken from us by Eldra's power... he had been there, somewhere between life and death, waiting for the final chance. A chance that had come, but at a price none of us were ready to pay.

“He broke the blood oath to save me,” I said, my voice breaking as the realization settled deep into my chest.

My mother nodded, her expression a mix of pride and heartbreak. “To save us. He gave everything for you, for the kingdom. But in the end, the oath’s magic took him. Took them both, for Eldra had broken her end as well.”

I couldn’t stop the tears then, couldn’t hold back the grief that tore through me. “I didn’t get to say goodbye,” I whispered, my voice a broken echo of the agony in my chest.

Neither did she. My mother’s arms came around me again, and we held each other in the quiet room with his tunic clutched between us that still smelled of him. There were no more words, only the shared understanding of what he had sacrificed, the depths of a love that had saved a kingdom, even as it broke our hearts.

 

***

 

The day before had passed in a blur, the hours folding into one another as if time itself couldn’t keep up with the demands I faced. Meetings with the captain of the guards, piles of paperwork, and managing the aftermath of the battle all blurred together. There wasn’t a single moment to pause or reflect. There was simply too much to do. The palace made an announcement that I would speak to the people at noon the next day.

The next morning began at a slower pace, but it was still busy. Eira and I made our way through the palace, speaking with the staff. Much to their surprise, and my own, I remembered each of their names. I had been careful to listen and to learn about the people I would now lead. Seeing their eyes warm as I greeted them, sharing a smile or a small word of gratitude, made me feel, for the first time in days, like I was starting to find my footing.

That sense of normalcy carried over into breakfast. The table was filled with lighthearted conversation. Captain Malcom, Thorne, Alric, Eira, and I ate together, talking about trivial things, plans for the day, the weather, and stories from the past. Anything but the death and destruction of the past weeks. For a few fleeting moments, it felt carefree. We weren’t warriors or leaders, just people enjoying a quiet meal together.

Then the door creaked open, and my mother stepped into the room. My breath caught at the sight of her. She looked... worn. Her hair, usually so neat and carefully styled, was disheveled, and the grief still lingered in the lines of her face. But there was something different in her eyes. A small flicker of light, like the faintest hint of hope breaking through the darkness.

I didn’t hesitate. I was on my feet and across the room in a few long strides, wrapping my arms around her before she could say a word. She felt so fragile in my embrace, and I held her as if she might break.

“I’m hungry,” she murmured, her voice rough, but steady.

I smiled against her shoulder, squeezing her just a little tighter. It was such a simple thing to say, but it felt like the first crack in the wall of grief that had surrounded her. I pulled back, my hands resting gently on her shoulders, and looked into her eyes to make certain she was all right before guiding her to a seat.

My mother sat quietly, nibbling at the food, each bite hesitant as if she were trying to remember how to eat again. I stayed by her side, watching the lines of strain on her face begin to ease, if only a little. It was a fragile moment of peace, but I would take it.

Then, the quiet was broken by one of the staff hurrying to my side. “Your Majesty, there is a guest for you,” he said, his tone urgent yet respectful.

I felt a flicker of surprise. I hadn’t expected visitors, and I had no idea where in the palace I was supposed to host someone. I was still learning my way through the twisting halls and grand chambers of my new home. “Please,” I said, choosing practicality over formality, “bring them here.”

The servant nodded and hurried away, and I looked back to the table. There were curious glances from those around me, but none of them spoke.

Minutes later, the door opened, and in walked Vanya, her presence commanding as always. She moved with the grace of someone who knew exactly where she belonged, her dark eyes scanning the room with a curious, almost appraising look before they settled on me.

“Vanya,” I greeted her warmly, rising from my seat. “It’s good to see you.”

She gave a polite nod to the others, my mother, the captain, Eira, before her gaze returned to me. “I hear you are queen now, and that you defeated Eldra,” she said. There was something careful in her tone, a tenseness behind her words that I couldn’t quite place.

I nodded, feeling the echo of that battle deep in my bones. “A lot of people died,” I said softly, my voice steady but heavy. “How can I help you, Vanya?”

Vanya's face softened slightly. “I brought a force to aid you, but we arrived too late,” she explained, her tone measured. “We encountered Eldra’s soldiers retreating, and they spoke of the beautiful and merciful queen of Avaloria who showed them kindness. They said you healed them... spared them.” She paused, her eyes narrowing slightly as if searching for something in my expression. “The tales they told... they spoke of a queen who has inherited more than just a throne.”

I felt a shiver of unease ripple through me. “What do you mean?” I asked, though I suspected I already knew.

“I can sense it,” she said, a hint of wonder in her voice. “You have Eldra’s magic now. When you defeated her, the passive magic that sustained Rylos passed to you, along with the mantle of power she held. With no living heir, the land’s magic has no choice but to cling to you.”

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. I hadn’t felt any different since the battle, hadn’t noticed any shift in my magic beyond the influx from Eldra and my exhaustion that had settled into my bones. “Rylos... needs me?” I asked, barely able to form the words.

“Yes,” Vanya said, her tone gentle but firm. “The land itself has tied its fate to yours. You are the only one left on this continent who carries a true connection to the magic that keeps our kingdoms whole. Without you, Rylos will continue to wither. Our delegates are doing what they can to stabilize the transition, but it’s not enough. Only you can restore the balance, and they had a vacuum of leadership that if not addressed will rise to anarchy.”

Vanya’s expression softened, a rare glimpse of sympathy in her eyes. “You don’t have to decide anything now,” she said, her voice a soothing balm against the storm brewing inside me. “But there is something else you should consider. The unification of the continent... under a single ruler.”

The air seemed to leave the room in a rush, and I felt as though I was standing at the edge of a precipice. A single ruler for the continent. It was bad enough to suddenly become queen of Avaloria.

“Unification?” I repeated, my voice barely a whisper.

Vanya nodded, her gaze unwavering. “Yes. The time of divided kingdoms is ending. The land and magic are speaking through you, Aeliana. They chose you, and now you must decide if you will answer their call.”

 

***

 

I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. The warm breeze carried the smell of freshly blooming flowers, life returning to Avaloria, and the sunlight caught on the banners waving above the crowd, each one brighter and more vivid than I remembered. The crier’s voice echoed off the stone walls of the square, announcing my name, though the words felt distant to me. When he was done, I stepped forward, and the crowd stirred as one, a rustling sea of eager faces.

There were shouts of joy, praises and thanks, names called out for loved ones who had not come back. I heard them, every word, and let them fill me, though my own heart felt raw and hollow. I had seen the cost of this victory firsthand, had held it in my arms as blood and tears. Now, the people cheered for the end of a nightmare they had all shared.

I raised my hand, and slowly, the noise died away, replaced by a charged silence. I could feel their eyes on me, thousands of them, waiting, hoping. My voice came out clear, though my throat was tight with emotion.

“Good people of Avaloria. I stand here today because of the sacrifice of others. Three days ago, a small group of Avalorians faced off against the witch Eldra and five hundred of her soldiers. Of the eighty-seven who stood with me, only forty-three remain. These brave men and women fought for Avaloria, and it grieves me that some never returned.”

I paused again, letting the grief and pride in my voice ring out over the crowd. Faces softened, some bent their heads, and there was a murmur that rolled through them, sympathy, sorrow, respect. I caught a glimpse of Alric and Thorne, standing to one side, their faces lined with weariness but their eyes burning with pride. Eira was beside them, her presence steadying me even from a distance.

“Eldra,” I said, and the crowd hushed, leaning closer. “The witch who stole King Cedric's magic, cursed him, and stole me the day I was born, she cursed and bound me, and sought to claim Avaloria for herself. But she failed and is now dead. The remains or her army peacefully retreating to Rylos.”

A cheer broke out, and I had to wait for it to die down again. There were tears in some eyes, smiles on others. It was the promise of better days, of renewal. I felt the hum of magic in the air, stronger than ever, and the land itself seemed to pulse with life. Crops had begun to sprout anew, the rivers flowed clear and full, and even the buildings, once crumbling, stood straighter and taller, as if touched by unseen hands.

“She is gone,” I said when they quieted, my voice low but firm. “And the shadow that fell over our home has lifted. Yet we must never forget what it cost to bring back the light. The price was high... and we owe a debt to those who will never return to the families who sacrificed so much. Today, we remember them.”

I bowed my head and tears began to fall once more. A ripple went through the crowd, a shared moment of silence, a breath held as one. Then, as I raised my gaze, I saw hope reflected at me, brighter than I had ever seen it before.

“Avaloria is alive,” I said, and my voice was strong and unbroken. “It is stronger than it has ever been. And together, we will rebuild, heal, and become more than we ever dreamed possible.”

The square erupted into cheers that shook the stones beneath my feet, and I let the sound wash over me. For the first time, in a very long time, I believed in the future.

I lifted my hand again, and the joyous cheers gradually faded, leaving behind a quiet anticipation. They had not expected me to continue, there was still so much more that needed to be said, and I felt a deep urgency to speak every word.

“There are some people who deserve recognition,” I began, my gaze sweeping the crowd before I settled on the ones who had been my strength through it all. “Eira,” I said, my voice softening as I spoke her name. “During our search for the lost princess, for me, Eira saved the queen in the heat of battle. She fought alongside us, never asking what she might gain in return, and I hope that all of you will be seeing much more of this beautiful woman.”

I looked over at Eira, who stood just beyond the gathered crowd, her dark eyes glittering with something between amusement and curiosity. She cocked her head to the side, a small, teasing smile on her lips, perhaps wondering why I had chosen those particular words. My heart swelled with unspoken emotion, but I pressed on.

“Thorne,” I continued, gesturing to the broad-shouldered warrior beside her. “A mercenary, a soldier, and a force to be reckoned with. He lifted me from a path of darkness, from the darkness of the thieves' guild, and set my feet on the road to a better future. Without his strength and guidance, I would not be standing here today. He taught me what it means to fight for something greater than oneself.”

Thorne gave me a firm nod, a hint of pride in his eyes that he rarely showed, and I felt a rush of gratitude.

“And Alric,” I said, my voice growing warmer as I turned to the healer who had become a beacon of hope in our darkest days. “Whom many of you already know well. He has devoted his life to Avaloria, healing the wounded, tending to the poor, and asking for nothing in return. He is wiser than any of us, and his heart is boundless.”

Alric laughed, his face creasing into a smile that was all warmth and sincerity. I felt a lightness in my chest, a fleeting joy, as the crowd murmured their agreement.

“But I would not be here without the one who never stopped searching for me,” I continued, turning to where my mother, Queen Lisandra, stood tall and proud. “Queen Lisandra, my mother, who spent nearly eighteen years seeking for her lost daughter. She never gave up, even when it seemed hopeless. She was the reason I was found, and she is the reason I stand before you today. Avaloria has always had a true queen.”

My mother’s eyes shone with tears, and I could see the fierce pride and love that radiated from her. I held her gaze for a moment, letting the weight of everything we had endured settle between us.

But there was one more name, a name I could not leave unspoken, though it felt like a stone in my throat.

“And lastly... I must speak of King Cedric, my father,” I said, and silence fell over the crowd. “He is not here with us today, and his absence is a wound that will take time to heal. During the battle with Eldra, he gave his life so that we might have a chance to live. Many of you remember him for his mistakes, for the hardships his choices brought upon Avaloria. And he would be the first to remind us of his failures. But I knew a man who loved his wife and child, a man who loved his people more than his own life. In the end, he gave everything, his last breath, to save us. To give Avaloria hope, to give us a future.”

I felt my voice crack, my own grief surfacing, raw and real. A hush settled over the square, and I saw heads bowed, hands clasped together in silent respect. I straightened my shoulders, blinking back the heat in my eyes, and raised my chin.

“Honor him,” I said softly, and the words hung in the air like a prayer. “Honor the man he became... and the sacrifice he made for all of us.”

For a moment, the silence was absolute, heavy with shared sorrow and remembrance. Then, slowly, the crowd began to move, heads bowed, hands over hearts, and a solemn, unified murmur of respect spread through the square. It was not the cheers of victory, but a deeper acknowledgment of loss and of hope, and I knew in that moment that Avaloria would remember.

I let out a slow breath, feeling the tension in my chest begin to ease. The sunlight warmed my face, and as I looked out over the crowd, I saw the promise of something new, a future we had fought for together, a kingdom that was beginning to heal.

 

***

 

The following days seemed to run into each other. Mother grew stronger with each sunrise; her pallor faded, and the sadness that had clung to her seemed to be lightening bit by bit. She confided in me during quiet moments together, admitting with a wistful smile that she and Cedric had lived as strangers for the last eighteen years. His illness, Eldra’s lingering curse, had stolen him away, leaving her to manage the kingdom alone, struggling to fill the void his sickness left behind. She confessed that she missed him terribly, not the king he had become, but the man he once was, the man he was in the end, the father I never truly knew. There was sorrow in her words, but also a sense of peace, as if she was ready to let go of those years of loneliness and heartache.

Meanwhile, Sebastian, the thieves' guild master, presented me with a proposal that I never expected to hear from his lips. He claimed he wanted to make his underground network a legitimate enterprise; no more illegal dealings, no more binding orphans to a life they could never escape. He spoke of fairness, of giving children the chance to choose their path. I had looked him in the eye, waiting for the familiar glint of deception, but for once, he seemed earnest. Perhaps seeing me move a mountain with my magic had shown him that the rules of this world had changed, or maybe he was just playing a long game, waiting to catch me off guard. I did not trust him, and I told him so. He had only smiled and said time would tell.

It was hard not to feel cynical, but a part of me, some small, stubborn part, hoped he meant it. The thought of no more children being pulled into the darkness that once held me captive made me want to believe him, even if experience told me otherwise.

Avaloria itself seemed to be healing, like a long-suffering patient waking from a deep slumber. The signs were everywhere: the crops that had withered were quickly coming back to life, their green shoots pushing through the soil as if in defiance of all that had tried to destroy them. The people looked healthier and the streets cleaner.

I had found some land on the edge of Avaloria’s marketplace, once nothing more than an empty lot littered with rubble and turned it into something new. Using my magic, I had built a bright, sprawling hospital, its walls high and strong, with windows that caught the sunlight and bathed every room in warmth. This place would be different. A place for Alric to continue his work, where anyone could come for help without fear of cost or judgment. The hospital was already bustling, filled with the sounds of children’s laughter, the murmur of grateful families, and the quiet determination of healers tending to the wounded.

I had just finished mending a young boy’s broken arm when Alric clapped me on the back, his laughter filling the room. “You know, my Queen,” he said with a grin, “you could have used a lot less magic if you just learned a little finesse.”

I ruffled the boy’s hair and smiled. “Off you go,” I told him. He threw his small arms around me in a quick hug before running off to find his parents. Alric’s eyes twinkled with pride and amusement. I was still learning, still growing into this power that I never thought I would have, never even imagined was mine to wield.

Just then, Eira appeared, slipping through the crowd with that effortless grace of hers. She caught my eye and leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. For a moment, the hum of voices, the bustle of healers and patients, all of it faded into the background until there was only her.

“We have word from Vanya,” she said, her voice low. “Rylos needs to meet with you, but there is still some time.” She paused, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Vanya suggests you come to Ishwan for a few days first. She says it will be a good place to rest before heading to Rylos.”

I nodded. Ishwan. The thought of a brief escape, of time spent with Eira away from the endless demands of Avaloria, was tempting. I had barely caught my breath since the battle with Eldra. Avaloria still needed me, and there was so much to rebuild, so much that remained broken, but I could feel the pull of the land to the north, and I knew I needed to answer.

We made our way back to the palace slowly, winding through the busy streets of Avaloria. Every few steps, someone stopped us to offer a smile, a handshake, or a word of thanks. Children tugged on my cloak, and older people bowed their heads with gratitude. I tried to give each one my attention. There were a few teasing inquiries about heirs to the throne, and though I blushed and laughed them off, I could feel Eira's amused gaze lingering on me each time. By the time we reached the palace gates, my heart felt light, warmed by the joy that now seemed to fill Avaloria like sunlight after a long winter.

We found my mother in the library, the golden light of the afternoon spilling through the high windows. She was sitting across from Thorne, and their conversation had a casual, easy warmth that surprised me. I watched for a moment, unnoticed, as she laughed at something he said, a sound that was bright and young, free from the burdens of a kingdom at war. It made me smile, and when we stepped into the room, she rose to greet us with a smile of her own.

There were hugs all around, and Thorne’s embrace was strong and reassuring, as always. We settled into chairs, and I knew it was time to bring up our plans. I glanced at Eira, then turned to my mother. “We have received a message from Vanya. She thinks it is time I travel to Ishwan... and from there, to Rylos. She believes it is time to see what the disposition of Rylos is. I feel the land calling to me. I think I should go.”

Mother nodded thoughtfully. “I think she is right,” she said. “Ishwan has always been a strong ally, and trade with Rylos could bring great benefits to Avaloria. It is wise to continue building those relationships.” She paused, her gaze shifting between Eira and me. “You should go together,” she added, a quiet smile touching her lips. “I will manage things here while you are away. I think it is time for you both to have a chance to... breathe, to find some peace.”

I felt much relief from her words. She was healing, finding her own strength again. It was a sign that the scars of the past were starting to fade. I reached for her hand, squeezing it with a mixture of gratitude and affection.

“What about you, Thorne?” I asked, turning to him. “Will you join us?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You two do not need a third wheel,” he said with a playful grin. “Take this opportunity to be together, to enjoy the world beyond Avaloria’s walls. I will stay here and keep an eye on things, making myself available if Lisandra needs support.” He glanced at my mother with a hint of warmth in his eyes.

I could feel Eira’s hand slip into mine, and I squeezed it gently. The idea of days spent together, away from the demands of the court, filled me with a kind of excitement I had not felt in a long time. We would leave in the morning.

 

***

 

I managed to convince Captain Malcom to let Eira and me travel without an escort, an argument that had ended with me reminding him that I had just led a battle against an army and survived and absorbed Eldra’s magic. With a resigned shake of his head, he had finally agreed, and Eira and I set out with only ourselves and the open road.

The sun hung bright and warm in a clear sky. We took our time, savoring the journey like a long-awaited gift, letting the horses amble at a leisurely pace. I had not realized how much I needed this, the quiet of the countryside, the gentle sway of the horse beneath me, and the warmth of Eira’s presence by my side. It was as if the shadows of the past were being left behind, each step carrying us closer to something brighter.

When we reached the meadow and pass, I felt a hitch in my chest. The memory of the battle with Eldra lingered like a half-healed wound, raw but no longer unbearable. I could still see the clash of steel, the flash of magic, the faces of those who had fought and fallen. Without speaking, I reached out, letting the pulse of my magic flow through my fingers and into the earth. The ground seemed to hum in response, and a wave of flowers, violets, marigolds, and bright patches of wild poppies, began to bloom along the roadside. They would stand as a living reminder of the sacrifice that had been made here, a tribute to those who had given their lives for Avaloria’s future.

Eira watched in silence, her gaze lingering on the flowers, and then she took my hand. We stayed like that for a moment, our fingers intertwined, before we moved on, the colors of the meadow trailing behind us like a blessing.

By the time we reached Dunlevy, the sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of red and purple. The inn looked much the same as it had the last time we were here, but I could feel the difference as soon as we stepped inside. There was a murmur of recognition, a shift in the air, and the innkeeper seemed to know exactly who we were. He greeted us with a warm smile and a bow that felt both strange and comforting.

We were halfway through our meal when I saw a familiar face at the door, the broad-shouldered and portly man who had caused us trouble the last two times we passed through Dunlevy. He caught sight of us, his eyes widening with a mixture of surprise and discomfort, and then, without a word, he turned and walked back out into the night. Eira and I shared a look of surprise, and then a quiet laugh over our stew. The world had changed... and so had we.

The following morning, we rose early, setting a quicker pace toward Ishwan-dek. The road was long, but with Eira beside me, the miles passed quickly.

As we neared Ishwan-dek, the first thing I noticed was the scent of the ocean, fresh and bracing, with a hint of salt and seaweed.

“Do you remember the first time we came here?” I asked. “It feels like a lifetime ago.”

She chuckled, her eyes bright with amusement. “We were both so nervous then, like children seeing the ocean for the first time.”

“Which we were,” I reminded her with a grin. “I can still remember standing on the docks, staring out at the waves like I could not believe they were real.”

Eira’s laugh was light, and she reached over to squeeze my hand. “Now look at us, seasoned travelers, arriving like we belong here.”

We guided the horses to the stable without hesitation, leaving them in the care of a young boy with wide eyes and a quick, respectful bow. The docks, bustling with life, were alive with the sounds of seagulls and fishermen calling to each other. It felt different this time, more familiar, almost welcoming, and my nerves were absent.

It did not take long to find a boat, the negotiations brief and without fuss. The boatman had a sturdy rowboat and a clear gaze, and we settled the price with ease, finding myself in the shoes of my mother left me feeling accomplished. Eira and I climbed in, settling on the hard wooden bench as he pushed us away from the dock. The water lapped against the sides of the boat, and soon, Ishwan’s island loomed closer.

I pulled Eira close, wrapping my arm around her as we snuggled together in the chill sea breeze. Her warmth was a comfort against my side, and the rocking of the boat only seemed to pull us closer. There was something so peaceful about it, the soft splash of oars, the scent of salt on the air, and the steady, strong presence of Eira beside me.

As we stepped onto the island’s pier, I was struck by the change. The last time I had come here, I was Caelan, and the memories of that awkward arrival tugged at me as we were greeted by the female guards. This time, there were smiles and nods of recognition.

Vanya was waiting at the end of the dock, a knowing smile on her face. She embraced me as if we were old friends, her arms warm and strong around my shoulders. There was no hint of the tension that had existed between us before, when I had not known if I would be welcomed or turned away. Now, she led us up the steep stone steps to the city atop the island with an easy grace, the conversation flowing freely between us, unhurried and genuine.

When we reached the top, Vanya gestured to a small but elegant building, a room fit for a queen, with thick wooden doors and windows that overlooked the sea. She did not even ask if we wanted separate rooms, and I did not mind. It felt right, like she understood more than she let on.

“Rest tonight,” she said with a wink, her voice teasing. “We have much to discuss in the morning.”

I smiled, and we said our goodnights. As soon as the door closed behind us, we glanced at a table filled with a feast of roasted fish, fresh bread, and fruit that had been sliced and arranged with care. Eira and I ate in comfortable silence, the fatigue of the journey catching up with us. It was not long before we were nestled together in the soft bed, the moonlight casting a silver glow over the room.

I traced circles on Eira’s back as she rested her head on my shoulder, and she hummed contentedly, her body warm and relaxed against mine. I marveled at how different it felt, this place, this time, this life we were building together. I had come here once as Caelan, searching for a path I had not yet understood, and now I was here as Aeliana, with a future that stretched out before me like the open sea just beyond the window.

We fell asleep like that, tangled together in the softness of the bed, the sound of waves below us and the warmth of Eira’s breath against my skin. It was the kind of peace I had thought I would never find, a moment of stillness in a world that had always been full of chaos

 

***

 

Eira’s lips were warm against my neck, soft and gentle, and I closed my eyes, savoring the closeness of her. She nuzzled her way up to my ear, her breath a warm whisper, and then she shifted, sliding over me until she straddled my hips. The morning light filtered through the thin curtains, painting her in a soft glow, and I could not help but smile.

“This has been wonderful,” she murmured, her fingers tracing light patterns across my arms. “I don’t have to look over my shoulder anymore because of the thieves' guild, and you... you make me feel seen. I feel loved, Aeliana.” Her voice was gentle, yet fierce with sincerity, and it sent warmth rushing through me.

I grinned up at her, a playful light dancing in my eyes, then I rolled us over, shifting so that I was the one straddling her now. She looked up at me, wide-eyed and laughing, and I felt a deep joy swell inside me.

“I will make you feel loved,” I promised with a teasing smile, my voice dropping low. I leaned in, pressing my lips to hers in a slow, lingering kiss, and I could feel the warmth of her hands resting on my sides. I giggled, leaning in for another kiss, when a sharp knock at the door made us both freeze.

“Vanya is waiting for you both in the common room,” a voice called from outside. I bit back a groan, feeling Eira’s laughter vibrate beneath me.

“Just getting up!” I called back, my voice higher than I had intended. “We will be there soon!” I leaned back down, my forehead touching Eira’s, and sighed. “Do you see what trouble you get me into?” I teased.

Eira's eyes sparkled with mischief, and she batted her lashes at me, a coy smile spreading across her face. “Me? Trouble? I think the real trouble would be if I kept you here... and didn't let you out of this bed.”

She reached up, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me down into her embrace. I laughed, the sound muffled against her shoulder as we tumbled into a playful struggle. She squirmed beneath me, her fingers finding my ribs, and I let out a squeal as she began to tickle me mercilessly.

I fought back, my own fingers digging into her sides, and soon we were a tangled mess of limbs and laughter, the bedcovers half-kicked to the floor. There was a freedom in that moment, an unguarded happiness that made the world outside the room feel distant and unimportant.

For a little while longer, I let myself forget the waiting responsibilities and just existed in the warmth of Eira’s arms, her laughter mingling with mine as the morning light bathed us both in gold.

Eira groaned when I tugged her hand, resisting my pull with a half-hearted protest. I grinned, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. “Come on,” I said softly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “The sooner we meet with Vanya, the sooner we can come back here.”

She rolled her eyes but let me pull her to her feet, and we dressed quickly, trading smiles and lingering touches. When we finally stepped into the larger common room, Vanya was already waiting for us, seated by a broad table, her knowing gaze making my cheeks flush. She did not bother to hide the small smirk that tugged at her lips as we approached.

“I trust you slept well,” she said, a trace of amusement coloring her words.

I returned her smile, feeling Eira’s fingers tighten around mine. “Yes,” I replied, trying to sound as composed as possible. “Very well, thank you.”

She gestured for us to sit, and I settled across from her. Eira’s hand remained in mine, as Vanya leaned forward, her eyes growing serious.

“Do you feel it?” she asked, her gaze intense. “The connection to the land, Aeliana?”

I hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. I feel it... stronger than before. Avaloria’s magic... Rylos and Ishwan’s as well.” I paused, glancing out the window toward the distant sea. “It’s like a thread connecting everything. A pulse that echoes inside me.”

Vanya's nodded with approval, and she leaned back in her chair. “Good. You should feel it. Eldra had that connection once, and if you took everything from her, her magic, her power, then that connection is now yours. You are the conduit for the land's magic, Aeliana. Avaloria, Rylos, and Ishwan are tied to you. I believe the magic of the land has chosen you to bring peace. Too much blood has been spilled.

“Ishwan, Rylos, and Avaloria must be united,” Vanya said firmly, her eyes glowing with a quiet determination. “The magic calls for it. One kingdom, bound together. Ishwan will remain a sanctuary, a haven for women as it has always been, but you, Aeliana, must be the queen for all three lands. You are the bridge that connects them.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but a sigh escaped instead. “Are there other continents you want me to become queen of while we are at it?” I asked, only half-joking.

Vanya’s smile returned, though this time it was tinged with sympathy. “No,” she said gently. “This is enough for now, but you must understand the gravity of it. The land’s magic is not something that can be denied or ignored. If you embrace this... if you bind these lands together, it will be stronger. There will be peace, Aeliana. True peace.”

I slumped back in my chair. Three kingdoms. Three separate histories, each with their own struggles and needs, all resting on my shoulders. I felt Eira’s thumb rubbing slow circles against my palm, and I glanced at her. She gave me a small, encouraging nod, and the tightness in my chest eased.

“Alright,” I said finally, my voice low but firm. “If it is what the land needs... what the magic demands, then I will do it.”

Vanya's eyes glimmered with approval, and she inclined her head. “Agreed. We are not asking you to change who we are. Only to unite us, to be the heart that binds us together.”

I took a deep breath, feeling the land’s pulse in my own heartbeat, a slow, steady rhythm that felt right, even if it terrified me. Eira’s hand in mine was the only anchor I had in that moment, and I held onto it like a lifeline.

“One kingdom, then,” I said softly, the words feeling like a promise. “One land, one people. But what of the people of Rylos. Will they accept it?”

Vanya nodded. “According to my emissaries in Rylos, they too are ready. Tomorrow, we will perform the land binding ritual. It will not be easy, but I believe you are ready.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. “I hope you are right,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

I leaned forward and met Vanya’s gaze. “I have a question,” I said slowly, hesitating for just a moment. “When I fought Eldra, I felt something strange. My father’s magic that she had stolen was familiar to me. It rushed toward me... almost as if it knew me. I have been thinking about that, how magic might carry a bond between parent and child.”

Vanya’s expression softened with curiosity, and she nodded for me to continue.

“I think... magic has a kind of memory,” I said. “It holds a connection to its host. And I have been pondering if that connection, once severed, can be mended. What if I could give you back what I took? Would you allow me to try?”

Vanya’s eyes widened in surprise, and for a heartbeat, she was silent. Then, she smiled, a mixture of hope and longing crossing her face. “I have missed it,” she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Even though you only took a part of it, it has called to me ever since. Yes, Aeliana. I would like that very much.”

I nodded, feeling a surge of determination. Carefully, I reached across the table, taking her hands in mine. Her skin was warm, and I felt the tremor of anticipation in her fingers. I closed my eyes, drawing in a deep breath, and began to visualize the flow of magic, the gentle currents that moved inside me, pulsing and waiting.

“Open your magic to mine,” I instructed, my voice steady. “Feel the connection. I will guide it, but you must be ready.”

Vanya’s magic responded with a flicker, cautious and tentative. I felt the delicate thread she had opened, a thin, wavering tendril reaching out to me. I focused on it, the warmth growing between us as I began to move her magic, the piece I had taken, back toward her. It was a gentle nudge, the faintest push, and I felt the familiar energy stir within me, like a bird stretching its wings.

“Take it, Vanya,” I whispered, my voice barely a breath.

She gasped, her fingers tightening around mine as the rush of her magic surged back into her. I watched her eyes widen, feeling the warmth of her power returning, the completeness settling back into her being. A shuddering breath escaped her, and she released my hands, her eyes shining with a mix of relief and wonder.

“You did it,” she said, her voice shaking slightly. “You gave it back.” She looked down at her hands, then back at me, her expression bright with joy. “By doing this, Aeliana, you have proven to me that someone can be worthy of holding so much power. You did not have to return it, yet you chose to.”

I smiled, feeling a strange sense of peace settle over me. “It was never truly mine,” I said softly. “I only borrowed what belonged to you, and it was time to give it back.”

Vanya’s smile grew, and she reached across the table to place her hand over mine once more. “Thank you, Aeliana. For the gift you have given me... and for showing me what a true queen is capable of, one that gives of her power rather than hoarding it.”

 

***

 

Eira and I wandered through the cobblestone streets of Ishwan, hand in hand. The city buzzed with life, the chatter of merchants blending with the crash of waves against the cliffs below. Eira’s steps were purposeful, yet light. Her fingers tightened around mine, and she pulled me toward a narrow path leading upward.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, laughing softly, though I already suspected.

“You will see,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. A mischievous glint sparkled in her eyes, making my heart skip a beat.

We emerged onto the overlook, the same one where the world had stilled for us weeks ago. The ocean stretched out endlessly before us, its waves catching the sunlight like shards of crystal. Eira let go of my hand and turned to face me, her smile radiant.

“Do you remember this spot, Aeliana?” she asked, her voice soft but edged with a kind of playful challenge.

I did not need to look around to recall it. The memory was carved into my soul. “How could I ever forget?” I said, stepping closer. “It was the first place we kissed.”

Eira’s smile widened. She leaned in, brushing her lips against mine in a kiss that felt like sunlight breaking through clouds. When she pulled back, her hands slipped into mine. Her gaze was steady and warm, holding mine as though no force in the world could pull us apart.

“I have something…” we both began at once, then froze, laughter bubbling up between us.

“You first,” she said quickly, though her cheeks had flushed a lovely pink.

“No,” I replied, unable to hold back my grin, “you first.”

Eira tilted her head, pretending to weigh her options. “Alright,” she said with exaggerated seriousness. Then, to my utter astonishment, she dropped to one knee.

“Eira… what are you…”

“Aeliana,” she interrupted, lifting my hand. Her smile turned softer, more vulnerable, though her voice remained steady. “I have never felt more certain of anything in my life than I do of you. You are my partner in every way that matters. You make me want to be better, not for some kingdom, but for us.”

She reached into her pocket and drew out a simple gold ring. My breath caught as I recognized it… the delicate band that had belonged to my mother.

“My Queen,” she said with a mock flourish, her grin breaking through her composure, “your mother insisted I take this. She said I would know when the time was right.” Her expression turned serious again, her gaze locking with mine. “Will you marry me?”

Emotion surged through me, a wave so strong I could barely speak. But even in my astonishment, I could not resist a bit of mischief. “That is quite the proposal, Eira,” I said, laughing despite the tears gathering in my eyes. “But you did not let me go first.”

Eira blinked, confused for half a moment, before realization dawned. She stood swiftly, eyes wide. “Were you about to…”

“Yes,” I said, my grin unstoppable now. I reached into my satchel and produced a small silver ring set with a sapphire, something I had commissioned during a rare quiet moment. “But since you were so determined to steal my thunder, you leave me no choice.” I dropped to one knee before her, mirroring her earlier position.

“Eira,” I began, my voice cracking despite my best efforts, “there is no one else I could imagine standing beside me through all of this. You are my strength, my joy, and the love of my life. Will you marry me?”

For a moment, Eira simply stared, her lips trembling with laughter and tears alike. Then she pulled me to my feet, her arms wrapping around me tightly. “This is completely ridiculous,” she said, her voice muffled against my shoulder.

“It is,” I agreed, laughing.

“But yes,” she said, pulling back just far enough to meet my gaze. Her smile was luminous. “Yes, of course, I will marry you, Aeliana.”

“And, to make sure we are even… Yes. Of course, I will marry you, Eira.”

She slid the gold ring onto my finger with deliberate care, her touch reverent. I followed suit, slipping the sapphire band onto hers. Then we stood there, grinning like fools.

Eira’s hair fell in soft waves across her face, catching the sunlight like flames. I reached out instinctively, brushing it back to see her more clearly. My fingers lingered at her temple, tracing the warmth of her skin. “I have a gift for you,” I said softly. “If you want it.”

Eira laughed, the sound bright and unguarded. She shook her head, her eyes sparkling with joy. “I have no need of any gift, Aeliana. I have you.”

I smiled. “I want us to be equals,” I said, my voice steady but tender.

Her laughter faded, replaced by a more serious expression, though her joy never fully left. “We will never be equals, Aeliana,” she said quietly. “You are going to be queen of the continent, with more magic than anyone has ever had before. That is not something I can match.”

I nodded, acknowledging her words but unwilling to accept them as final. “It is too much for one person to have,” I said. “I have the stolen magic that Eldra took from the heirs of Rylos. It should not be mine alone, and I think I can give it to you. I would still have more magic than I could ever use, but we need to rule together. I do not want the people to always defer to me. They need to see you for who you are, my equal.”

Eira’s eyes widened, and she pulled back slightly, searching my face. “You can do that?” she asked, wonder and doubt mingling in her tone. Then her brow furrowed. “Why could you not do that with your father?”

I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. “There was something blocking him. Perhaps it was the blood oath he took or the fact that he willingly gave up his magic. I could not feel any connection there, no life to attach the magic to. But with you...” I took her hands, the weight of this decision clear in the moment. “With you, I feel it. There is something alive, vibrant, waiting to be shared. Please, let me try.”

Eira’s gaze softened, her fingers tightening around mine. I could see the conflict play out in her eyes. “I could use magic to help others,” she murmured, almost to herself. “But what if it changes me? What if I become... like them?” Her lips pressed into a thin line, her thoughts clearly racing. “I do not want to lose who I am, Aeliana. I never want to be like the nobles who see themselves as gods among mortals.”

“You will not,” I said firmly. “Magic does not define who you are, your choices do. And you have always chosen to protect, to love, to fight for what is right. That will not change.”

She searched my face, her fingers trembling in mine. Slowly, her expression settled into resolve. “Alright,” she said finally. “If you believe this is what we need to do, I will trust you. But only because it is you.”

A flood of relief and gratitude surged through me. “Thank you,” I whispered, pulling her closer. “This is for us, our future.”

I cradled Eira’s hands between mine. Her fingers trembled slightly, and I gave them a reassuring squeeze. “This will be different from what I did with Vanya,” I said softly, locking my gaze with hers. “I am going to push the magic into you. All I ask is that you keep your focus on being willing to receive it. Do not try to pull at it or use it until it settles.”

Eira’s lips parted as if to speak, but she simply nodded. Her nerves showed in the tension of her shoulders, but there was trust in her eyes, a trust that filled me with equal parts determination and tenderness.

I steadied myself, exhaling slowly as I closed my eyes. Crafting the process in my mind, I envisioned the magic, a glowing torrent of power, flowing from within me to her. It was like shaping a river, channeling it with care to ensure it did not overflow or crash too violently.

Touching my magic, I felt its hum ripple through me like a living thing. I began to push, sending the essence of Rylos’ stolen magic toward Eira. Her hands stiffened in mine as her breath hitched. A sharp gasp escaped her, and I opened my eyes to see hers wide with wonder and shock. Her legs buckled, but I caught her, holding her tightly against me. The warmth of her body, the faint scent of her hair, and the rhythmic rise and fall of her breaths were my anchors as the last threads of magic left me and settled into her.

“It is done,” I murmured, my voice carrying the quiet finality of something monumental.

Eira’s eyes fluttered open, and she pulled in a deep breath. For a moment, her expression was unreadable, stunned, awed, overwhelmed. Then, slowly, a radiant smile spread across her face. “I feel it,” she said, her voice tinged with wonder. “It is there, waiting... waiting to be used.”

Her joy sent a rush of pride and love coursing through me. I cupped her face, my fingers brushing against the softness of her cheeks as I leaned in to kiss her. The connection between us felt deeper now, as though the magic had woven a thread that bound us together in a way that defied explanation. “I get to marry you,” I whispered against her lips, a smile tugging at my own.

Eira pulled back slightly, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and joy. For a moment, she just stared at me, as though trying to absorb the reality of everything we had just shared. Then, with a laugh that was half a sob, she threw her arms around my neck, holding me tightly. “You are impossible, Aeliana,” she said, her voice muffled against my shoulder. “And I love you for it.”

Eira and I strolled back toward the common room. Her hand remained in mine, our fingers entwined as if neither of us could bear to let go.

We were halfway there when Vanya appeared, stepping out from a side street with her cloak billowing faintly in the breeze. She stopped in front of us, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly as they flicked between Eira and me. “I felt a shift in the magic,” she said, her tone thoughtful rather than accusatory. Her gaze lingered on Eira, studying her with quiet intensity. “You were able to give her some of your magic?”

I nodded, feeling a spark of pride in my chest. “I was. We are going to be married, and I want her to rule with me.”

Vanya tilted her head, her expression unreadable at first. Slowly, she nodded. “It is a bold decision, but a wise one. Only you, Aeliana, have the connection to the land. Remember that. Your heirs will also have that connection.”

Eira stiffened beside me, her free hand balling into a fist. “If you think I am going to let some man impregnate my Aeliana, think again!” she snapped, her voice bristling with protectiveness.

Vanya arched a single eyebrow, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. She reached into her satchel and pulled out a weathered scroll, holding it out to me. “Consider this a wedding gift. It’s something we have used in Ishwan for generations,” she said.

I accepted the scroll, my curiosity piqued. Before I could respond, she turned on her heel and began to walk away, her voice floating back to us over her shoulder. “No practicing your magic in enclosed spaces, Eira. And Aeliana, we will perform the land-binding ceremony in the morning. After that, you should be off to Rylos.”

Eira and I stood there, watching her retreating figure. The street felt oddly quiet in her absence, as though the magic had muted itself in her wake. I looked down at the scroll in my hands, the wax seal bearing her intricate sigil already broken. “What do you suppose this is?” I murmured, unrolling it carefully.

Eira leaned in, her eyes scanning the neatly inked text. The words seemed to sink in for both of us at the same time, and within moments, we were laughing uncontrollably.

“It is a magic visualization method for becoming pregnant without using a man,” I said between giggles, the absurdity of the moment washing over me.

Eira doubled over, clutching her sides. “How thoughtful of her,” she managed to say, her laughter ringing out like music.

I wiped at my eyes, still grinning. “How thoughtful indeed.”

We leaned into each other, our mirth slowly subsiding, though the warmth lingered. In that moment, standing there with her, the scroll still in my hands, the future felt a little less daunting.

 

***

 

The weeks that followed passed in a blur, the days folding into each other with an almost dreamlike quality. The land-binding ceremony, which had loomed large in my thoughts, had gone smoothly. I could still feel the hum of the land’s magic coursing through me, a connection so profound it felt like the land itself had accepted me as its guardian.

Our journey to Rylos had been equally uneventful, a pleasant surprise given all that had preceded it. Meeting with the Ishwan emissaries and the Rylos elders had been straightforward, their tentative trust in me cemented by my decision to grant mercy to Eldra's soldiers. That act of compassion, though not without its dissenters, had bridged gaps I had feared would take years to mend. By the time we departed Rylos, I felt we had made significant progress, a single kingdom beginning to stitch itself together.

Returning to Avaloria brought its own surprises. Mother greeted us at the gates, her expression softened in a way I had rarely seen. Thorne stood beside her, his smile uncharacteristically easy. It did not take long to discover they were…dating. The revelation left me momentarily speechless, though Eira’s barely concealed laughter quickly broke the tension. If my mother could find some measure of happiness after all she had endured, who was I to begrudge her. Thorne was already much of a father figure for me and upon further consideration, I knew they were well matched.

In the days that followed, Eira and I worked tirelessly to finalize the union of Avaloria, Rylos, and Ishwan. Meetings with delegates became the rhythm of our lives, their concerns and questions pouring in like unrelenting tides. Yet, for all the challenges, there was an undeniable sense of unity growing among them. The final confirmation of my role came with unanimous votes from the delegates, each declaring me queen of Aurelia, the name chosen for our newly combined kingdom.

It was a title that carried immeasurable weight, but as I stood in the great hall surrounded by leaders from every corner of the continent, I felt Eira’s presence beside me, steady and unwavering. Together, we had begun something new, and for the first time in a long while, I dared to hope.

Surprisingly, it was the next major event I was the most nervous about. My wedding to Eira.

 

***

 

The reflection staring back at me felt less like a stranger than I imagined it would. My gown, a masterpiece of Avalorian silk and Rylosian embroidery, shimmered faintly in the light. Each thread seemed to tell a story; golden vines of Avaloria’s fields, silver waves of Ishwan’s ocean, emerald leaves from the forests of Rylos. It flowed around me like a dream, as though it had been woven from sunlight and starlight. My blonde hair, now a cascade of soft curls, framed my face like a crown, pinned delicately with flowers from every corner of Aurelia. And my eyes, vivid and blue, carried the thoughts of a thousand memories.

I ran my fingers along the fabric, marveling at how alien it all felt. The gown was perfection, but there had been a time when my wardrobe consisted of little more than patched trousers and shirts so thin they barely held warmth. I had grown accustomed to hiding in the shadows, slipping unnoticed through streets that had little mercy for anyone.

The mirror flickered with memories; ragged boots scraping against cobblestones, the gnaw of hunger twisting my gut, the fleeting shame of stolen bread clenched tightly in shaking hands. I had known the sharp edges of survival then, fighting every moment to scrape by in a world that would sooner swallow me whole than lend me a helping hand. I could still feel the watchful eyes of the thieves’ guild, almost expecting them to come take their spoils of me. It was a cruel reminder of a life I had fought to escape.

And yet… here I stood.

The crown sitting on a velvet cushion nearby was not one I had stolen. It had been given freely by the people I had fought to unite. My hands, once calloused from years of climbing rooftops and breaking into merchant stalls, now felt softer, still strong, but no longer trembling under desperation.

I turned my head slightly, catching the glow of the room behind me in the mirror. My attendants bustled about, preparing the final touches for the ceremony. Everything was perfect, from the cascading arrangements of white roses to the faint hum of music that drifted in from the courtyard. It all seemed impossibly far from the narrow alleys and hunger-filled nights of my past.

And yet… was it so far?

A faint smile tugged at my lips. It felt like I had lived a dozen lifetimes; an orphan, a thief, a young man who had struggled to find his place, a hired companion to find the hope of Avaloria. I had stumbled into a destiny I could never have imagined, transforming into someone I had never dared hope I could be. The woman looking back at me in the mirror was a stranger, yes, but she was also the truest version of myself, a blend of every life I had lived and every life I would now create.

The door opened softly, and my mother stepped into the room. Her presence, as always, carried an air of quiet grace. Her gown, elegant and understated, made her look like the royalty she was. She smiled as her gaze landed on me, her eyes brimming with pride and something deeper, a mother’s love I had thought I would never know.

She crossed the room in a few purposeful steps, her arms wrapping around me in a warm embrace. I leaned into her, feeling the comforting strength she had always exuded since we were reunited. Memories flickered in my mind, unbidden but welcome, so many moments of loneliness as an orphan, aching for a touch like this, wondering if anyone in the world might love me. And now, here I was, held by the woman who had given me life.

When we pulled apart, her hands lingered on my arms, her eyes searching mine. “You look beautiful, Aeliana,” she said, her voice soft and filled with pride. “Every inch a queen.”

I glanced toward the crown still sitting on its velvet cushion, polished to a gleam. Its presence reminded me of the path I had walked to reach this day. Still, I smiled faintly and shook my head. “Forget being a queen. I just hope Eira does not run away before we can marry.”

Mother’s laughter was light, filling the room with warmth. “She adores you, Aeliana,” she said, brushing an errant curl from my face. “She will be there. She would face an entire army to stand by your side today.”

I nodded, my smile growing more certain. “I know,” I said softly, “but I cannot help thinking of what I could lose. It feels... overwhelming.”

She took my hands in hers, grounding me. “That is because it matters, my daughter. Love should feel immense, because it is.” Her voice grew lighter again. “Thorne is waiting outside, if that is all right. He cannot replace your father, but he would be honored to escort you.”

A flicker of sadness touched my heart, the thought of my father absent on such a pivotal day. Still, I smiled, thinking of Thorne and all he had become to me. “Thorne is like a father to me,” I said sincerely. “I could not ask for better. And I am so glad you and he are finding joy together. You deserve some happiness in your life.”

She cupped my face, her thumb brushing lightly against my cheek. “I am happy, my precious daughter. How could I not be? I have you, and today, I will see you marry the person who completes your heart.” Her voice wavered slightly as tears glistened in her eyes, but her smile was unwavering. “Now,” she said with a playful firmness, “it is time to go.”

As we turned toward the door, my mother paused, her hand resting lightly on my arm. Her gaze shifted to the crown still perched on its velvet cushion. “We don’t want to forget your crown,” she said gently.

I glanced at it, its intricate design gleaming faintly in the soft light. For a moment, I considered it, not just in gold and jewels but in everything it represented. Then I shook my head firmly. “Leave it. Today is not about me being queen. Today is about me becoming a wife.”

She studied me for a moment, her eyes warm and approving. “Take it from me,” she said softly, her voice tinged with wisdom and experience, “there will be times when being a queen will take precedence, but always remember to be a wife first. Find moments together every day, no matter what the crown demands.”

I smiled, her words settling deep in my heart. “I will,” I promised, and with that, we stepped into the hallway.

Thorne stood waiting just outside, dressed in his finest. He greeted my mother with a light kiss on the cheek, his affection for her clear in his expression. Then he turned to me, extending his arm with a warm smile. “I told you that you were destined for great things,” he said.

I took his arm, the corner of my lips quirking upward as I tried not to be too self-conscious of the staff lining the hallway. They had gathered to watch, their faces glowing with pride and joy. I kept my chin high, though my voice softened. “If it were not for you, Thorne, I can’t imagine where I would be right now. You made all this possible by believing I could be better.”

Thorne patted my hand where it rested on his arm, his voice gruff but kind. “You had it in you all along, Aeliana. I just gave you a nudge.”

“Don’t flatter him too much, Aeliana,” Alric’s teasing voice came from ahead of us as he stepped into view, his usual smirk in place. “It will go straight to his head.”

I laughed, grateful for the levity. “Any words of advice, Alric?” I asked as we drew closer.

He chuckled, his eyes glinting with humor. “Just one. Say yes. Eira’s a fine woman, and if you ever forget that I will be here to remind you.”

The simplicity of his words, laced with affection, brought a lump to my throat. I nodded, my smile softening as I looked ahead to the double doors that awaited us. Behind them was my future, bright and uncharted.

The double doors groaned open, and the palace guards, men who, not long ago, might have thrown me into a dungeon without a second thought, stood tall and tipped their heads respectfully. Their polished armor gleamed, reflecting the late afternoon sun, but it was the solemnity in their expressions that caught my attention. They saw me now, not as the orphan, not as the thief, but as their queen.

Beyond the doors, the main square stretched wide, filled with a sea of people. They packed the space shoulder to shoulder, stretching as far as I could see. Throngs had traveled from Rylos and Ishwan to witness this day, their faces alight with hope and joy. As I stepped forward, the crowd erupted into cheers, their voices echoing off the palace walls. My heart swelled, not with pride, but with gratitude. These people had come not just for their queen but to celebrate the love I was about to claim as my own.

The path to the raised platform was lined with garlands of flowers, unobstructed and glowing under the enchanted lights strung overhead. My gaze drifted forward, searching, and there she was, Eira.

She stood at the center of the platform, a vision of fiery brilliance against the soft hues of the sky. Her red hair, loose and curling like tongues of flame, caught the sun's rays, each strand shimmering with life. Her green eyes glittered with excitement, framed by dark lashes that only accentuated their piercing beauty. She wore a dress of deep emerald, simple yet elegant, hugging her form as though nature itself had woven it for her.

For a moment, everything else faded, the crowd, the guards, even the enormity of the day. My breath hitched, and love, sharp and overwhelming, coursed through me. Longing followed close behind, a pull so deep and primal it seemed to hum in my very bones. She looked at me, and her eyes reflected every ounce of her passion, her joy, her unshakable confidence in us. In that gaze, I saw my past and my future, woven together in the fierce, unapologetic love we shared.

I climbed the steps slowly, my focus unbroken. Eira’s lips curved into a smile, one so radiant it could have outshone the sun. My steps quickened until I reached her, and when her hand found mine, the world was steady again.

The ceremony passed in a blur of words and magic. Vows were spoken, each one a promise carved into the fabric of our lives. As we clasped hands, the officiant summoned a magical sigil, its golden light wrapping around us, binding us not just in love but in destiny. When the final words were spoken, and the sigil faded into a shimmer of stars, Eira pulled me close, her kiss warm and soft, igniting every part of me.

The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, their joy as boundless as my own. As we turned to face them, the sky exploded with magical fireworks, bursts of color and light painting the heavens. Each display shimmered with enchantment, forming shapes of flowers, hearts, and even a dragon that roared silently before dissipating.

We invited everyone into the palace ballroom for the celebration. Laughter and music filled the grand space as couples twirled across the floor, their movements a reflection of the joy that radiated through the room. Eira and I danced, the world shrinking once again to just the two of us as she spun me effortlessly across the polished floor. The night felt endless, filled with moments of shared joy, love, and the promise of all that lay ahead.

 

***

 

The echoes of the celebration faded behind us as we slipped through the doors into the quiet hallway. For hours, we had been the center of attention, poised and regal, offering smiles and handshakes, accepting blessings and congratulations from nobles and common folk alike. But now, with no eyes on us save each other's, the façade dropped.

Eira’s lips were on mine before the doors had even fully closed, her kiss fierce and unyielding, the weight of the words she breathed against my skin making my heart tremble. “Gods, I love you, Aeliana,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

I clutched her hand tightly, and together we rushed through the palace corridors, giggling like children stealing away with a precious secret. Wide-eyed staff stood frozen for a moment, their knowing glances and small smiles betraying their thoughts. But I did not care; I barely even saw them. All that mattered was the warmth of Eira’s hand in mine and the uncontainable joy bubbling in my chest.

The bedroom door clicked shut behind us, and for a moment, we simply stood there, taking in the sight before us. The room had been transformed into a haven. Candlelight danced across the walls, the faint scent of flowers drifting through the air from carefully arranged bouquets. A table was laden with fine foods and wine, all lovingly prepared, though I knew it would remain untouched.

Because none of it mattered, not the flowers or the candles or the feast. Eira was my focus, and as her arms wrapped around me and our foreheads pressed together, the rest of the world disappeared.

“I have been waiting to do this all night,” she said, stepping back just enough to meet my gaze, her green eyes glinting with playful determination. “Don’t move, Aeliana. I’ve been training.”

I tilted my head, a laugh bubbling up from deep within. “Magic? I have seen the scorched remnants of candles and curtains all over the palace. Are you sure this is safe?”

“Hush, Aeliana,” she said, her smile widening as she lifted her hands and began to focus. “It’s all about the correct visualization, right? I have been visualizing this all night.” Her voice softened, her eyes drinking me in. “You’re so beautiful.”

I felt the telltale tug of magic on my dress, the fabric loosening and slipping against my skin. She furrowed her brow, her tongue darting to the corner of her mouth in concentration, and then, with one smooth motion, the gown pooled silently around my feet.

She grinned, triumphant, and I found myself laughing, caught in the sheer delight of her joy. Then, she closed the distance between us once more, her arms encircling my waist, her lips finding mine. The laughter faded, replaced by something deeper, something reverent.

I let myself be held, cherished, loved. Every touch, every whispered word, felt like an affirmation, a promise that the life we were building together would be one of unshakable devotion.

And as the night stretched on, with her laughter mingling with mine, her love enfolding me like the most precious gift, I found my thoughts drifting to everything that had brought me here.

I thought of the orphan boy I had once been, alone in the world, desperate and hungry, scraping by in a world that had seemed so cruel. I thought of the thief who had fought for freedom, who had once believed that survival was all there was. And I thought of the young man who had dreamed he should have been someone else, who had yearned for a life beyond reach.

But now, I was no longer that boy, no longer that thief. I was Aeliana, a queen, a lover, a wife. And though the path had been treacherous and filled with pain, it had brought me to this moment, a moment so perfect it almost didn’t feel real.

As Eira held me close, her fingers tracing idle patterns on my back, I whispered into the quiet, “I never thought I would have this. I never thought I would feel whole.”

She kissed me softly, her lips a gentle promise. “You are more than whole, Aeliana. You are everything.”

I smiled, pressing my forehead to hers, and for the first time in my life, I felt truly at peace. Whatever the future held, be it challenges, triumphs, or quiet days of love, it no longer mattered. We would face it together. And for me, that was enough.

It was everything.

 

***

***

 

Author’s Note: Thank you for taking the time to read this story, my longest novel yet. Please take a moment to leave a comment or send me a personal note. It means so much to me.

Avia Conner