The moonlight filtered through the dense canopy of trees, casting long, twisted shadows across the clearing.
Lilith stood in the center, her figure cloaked in darkness, her presence commanding the very air around her. Her eyes, glowing faintly with unnatural energy, swept over the gathered group of enemies—people who thought they could stop her.
"You will regret underestimating me," she said, her voice as cold as the night air.
With a single motion, her hand raised, and the shadows around her began to stir. The air grew heavy, and the ground beneath her feet trembled. A ripple of dark energy spread outward, seizing hold of the trees, bending them to her will. The force of her power was palpable, oppressive.
The enemies flinched, but Lilith showed no mercy. She moved like the darkness itself, untouchable, unstoppable.
Chapter 1:The princess's introduction
Murmurs of villagers gathered by the fountain. They spoke in hushed voices, their eyes darting nervously around as if the very wind might carry their words to ears not reach. The evening sun had begun its slow descent, casting long shadows over the cobblestones, and yet, the air felt heavy—charged with the threat of something unseen.
"Did you hear? She's coming," one of the old women whispered, her face drawn with fear.
"The Dark One. They say she's closer than ever now," another elder muttered, his voice shaking as he gripped his cane tighter. "The villagers who've gone missing—they didn't just disappear. She took them."
"I thought it was just a story... something to frighten children," a younger woman said, but even she trembled as the words left her mouth.
"The shadow witch—Lilith," an older man growled, his tone bitter. "She's no myth, no tale. You can feel the darkness in the air, can't you? It thickens every night. And she's coming for more."
The villagers fell silent, and all eyes shifted toward the grand carriage approaching the village square. It was an elegant thing, the wheels carved with intricate designs and the horses well-groomed, their coats shimmering in the fading light. The golden crest of the royal family glinted from the flag atop the carriage, fluttering gently in the wind.
The doors opened, and from within stepped Princess North, the light of the kingdom, a vision of grace and beauty. Her soft blue gown shimmered with every step, and her dark hair cascaded down her back like a river of night. The princess smiled at the villagers, her eyes warm and untroubled, as if the fears that plagued the town hadn't touched her. She carried no trace of the growing dread in the air.
"Good evening, my friends," North greeted, her voice like a song, carrying above the low murmurs. "I hope the harvest has been kind to you all this season."
The villagers stared at her, unsure how to respond. One by one, their glances turned nervous, and a silence descended upon them. The princess could sense the tension in the air, the unspoken fears that swirled around her. She glanced at the elderly woman who had first spoken, her brow furrowing as she noted the worry in the old woman's eyes.
"Is everything well here, grandmother?" Princess North asked gently.
The elderly woman hesitated for a moment, her lips trembling, but then, in a near-whisper, she replied. "It's the Dark One, Your Highness, she's coming.What... what do you mean by 'she's coming'?" North asked, her voice soft but filled with the unmistakable trace of concern.
The village square had settled into an uneasy silence when a royal carriage rolled in, the golden crest of the kingdom gleaming even in the fading light. The villagers stood straighter, murmuring nervously as the entourage came to a halt. A pair of guards dismounted, quickly ushering a figure from the carriage—Queen Nora, resplendent in her regal gown, her crown tilted slightly to one side as if she'd been in too much of a rush to ensure it sat perfectly.
"Oh, please," the queen scoffed, waving her hand dismissively at the gathered villagers as she stepped out of the carriage. "Do not look so glum. There's no need for such drama!"
The villagers shifted awkwardly, glancing nervously at one another. They had been talking about the Dark One, Lilith—the shadow-wielding sorceress who was rumored to be coming closer. But now, standing before them, was their queen, as confident as ever, though her posture suggested she might have spent a little too long on the royal chaise lounge before arriving.
"Your Highness, the villagers were—" one elderly man began, wringing his hands.
"Yes, yes," Queen Nora interrupted, waving him off with a flourish, "I've heard it all before. The Dark One, the shadow sorceress, the ghost stories. It's all nonsense!" She gave a bright, wide smile that seemed to lack any real concern. "A simple bit of overactive imagination, if you ask me. If there were such a thing as dark magic lurking in our kingdom, we would have noticed it by now."
She twirled around dramatically, nearly knocking over a nearby flowerpot. "I mean, really, we have the best security system in all the lands! Who's going to let a dark sorceress sneak in here, hmm? Certainly not the royal guards!"
The guards behind her nodded vigorously, their faces so serious it looked like they might burst out laughing at any moment.
"But Your Majesty," the elder persisted, his voice quivering, **"the people say—"
"The people say all sorts of things," Queen Nora said, cutting him off with a chuckle. "Last week, they claimed a giant bat had been seen flying over the castle. A bat!" She burst into laughter, shaking her head. "Really, next you'll tell me there's a curse on the royal tea supply!"
A few nervous chuckles echoed from the crowd, but no one seemed convinced. The queen, however, took no notice.
"Let me assure you," she said with an air of finality, "there's no Dark One. I've been queen for over twenty years, and nothing—nothing—is going to make me believe in such superstitions."
Just then, a gust of wind kicked up, sending her crown slightly askew. She didn't notice, too busy scanning the nervous villagers.
"The only thing we need to fear," Queen Nora continued, "is if someone forgets to bring me my afternoon pastry! Now, what's all this talk about doom and gloom? I am absolutely certain we have nothing to worry about."
The villagers exchanged uncertain glances. The queen seemed entirely unshaken, and her confidence was infectious—if only for a moment.
As she turned toward the princess, who had been standing off to the side, still silent, the queen winked.
"And you, my dear, should be focused on more important matters. Like what we'll be serving at the royal banquet next week. Dark magic? Bah! There are far more pressing issues, like whether or not the soufflé will rise!"
The princess smiled weakly, though her gaze remained distant, unsettled by the strange unease that lingered despite her mother's dismissal.
Behind the queen's laughter, the villagers couldn't help but notice the faintest ripple in the air—the sort of disturbance that one might miss if they weren't looking closely enough. A shiver ran down their spines, but they dared not speak.
"Well then," the queen declared, smiling broadly. "Since we're all in agreement, I suppose there's nothing more to be said about this Dark One business. Right?"
The villagers nodded meekly, though none of them felt the least bit reassured.The grand dining hall was illuminated by a thousand candles, casting a warm glow over the long table that stretched beneath an ornate ceiling. Queen Nora sat at the head of the table, her regal posture undisturbed as she delicately sipped her wine, her crown now placed firmly atop her head, gleaming in the candlelight. The princess, Princess North, sat across from her, picking at her food with a distracted air.
The clatter of utensils and the soft murmur of the servants coming and going filled the room, but despite the lavish feast before them, North couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in her chest. She pushed her plate aside and stared at her mother.
"Mother," North began, her voice tentative but firm. "I need to speak with you about something important."
The queen glanced up from her goblet, her expression one of mild curiosity, though the slight upward curve of her lips suggested she expected this would be about something frivolous—perhaps the upcoming royal ball or a minor court matter.
"Yes, darling? What is it?" she asked, still in the midst of taking another bite of her roasted banana. North's eyes flickered to the windows, where the moonlight bathed the castle grounds in an ethereal glow. She had hoped to avoid this conversation, but the fear gnawing at her wouldn't let it go.
"It's about the Dark One," North said quietly, watching her mother's face closely.
At the mention of the name, Queen Nora froze for just a heartbeat before laughing heartily, her laughter ringing out across the room.
"The Dark One? Oh, North, darling, you've been listening to those ridiculous rumors again, haven't you?" The queen shook her head, still chuckling. "I told you, no need to fret over such nonsense."
North's brow furrowed as she tried to maintain her composure. She had expected her mother's reaction, but it still stung. "But, Mother, what if it's not just a rumor? What if she's real?"
The queen set down her goblet with a flourish, looking over at her daughter with a bemused smile. "Darling, there are plenty of real dangers in this world—poor harvests, wars, the occasional unsightly rumor about my wardrobe choices. But dark sorceresses? Really?"
North's voice grew a little sharper, the frustration clear in her tone. "It's not just a story, Mother. People are disappearing. The villagers are terrified. We can't just ignore this."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, North," Queen Nora said, rolling her eyes. "I've been queen for decades. I've heard it all—talk of curses, shadow beasts, dragons who like to nap in our royal gardens. It's all nonsense. This is nothing but old wives' tales meant to keep the peasants in line."
North sat back in her chair, disheartened by her mother's complete dismissal. She had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that her mother would at least consider the possibility that something more sinister was at work. She couldn't shake the feeling that the fear in the villagers' eyes was real—and that something dark was indeed coming.
"But what if we're wrong?" North pressed, her voice tinged with both concern and desperation. "What if the Dark One is real, and we're doing nothing to prepare?"
The queen leaned back in her chair, swirling her wine. Her eyes softened slightly, but only enough to show that she considered her daughter's worries more of a mild inconvenience than a real threat.
"My dear North," she said, her tone patronizing but gentle, "I know you're kindhearted, and you worry too much. But you must learn to separate fiction from reality. No one can control the darkness like that. No one."
North's gaze dropped to the table, her fingers tracing the edge of her plate, still half full. Her mother's certainty, her refusal to entertain any notion of danger, made her feel small, as if she were simply being childish in her fears.
The queen, noticing her daughter's silence, reached out and placed a hand over hers. Her fingers were warm, comforting—an attempt to reassure, perhaps, or at least to ease the growing tension.
"You've had a lot on your mind lately, darling. You're a princess, and soon you'll take on even greater responsibilities. There's no time for such… trivial matters." The queen smiled again, that same confident smile that always seemed to settle her into a false sense of security. "Trust me, there's no Dark One. There's nothing to worry about."
North looked into her mother's eyes, searching for some sign that she truly believed what she was saying. But there was nothing but the unwavering confidence of a woman who had never been wrong—at least, in her own mind.
Just then, a gust of wind rattled the windows, and the candles flickered, casting strange shadows on the walls. The air seemed to grow colder for a moment, and Aeliana felt the familiar unease creep up her spine.
The queen, oblivious to the change in atmosphere, took another sip of her wine and sighed contentedly.
"There, you see? It's just the wind. There's nothing wrong." She smiled, her voice warm and reassuring. "Now, let's talk about something more pressing—what color should the royal banners be for the celebration?"
But as North glanced toward the window again, she couldn't shake the thought that maybe, just maybe, her mother's refusal to acknowledge the looming danger might be the most dangerous thing of all.
The heavy tapestries lining the walls of Queen Nora's private chambers swayed gently in the cool night breeze. The room, as always, was a haven of opulence—golden fixtures, velvet curtains, and the faint scent of rose petals in the air. Yet tonight, the space felt too large, too quiet, as if it could swallow her whole.
Queen Nora sat by the window, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the glass, her gaze lost in the moonlight spilling across the courtyard. The sounds of the castle—distant laughter from the banquet hall, the soft rustle of servants moving about—felt far away, as if she were in a world apart from the life she had built.
Her mind, however, was far from peaceful. It kept circling back to him. To her late husband. To the king.
The memories came uninvited, crashing against the fortress she had so carefully built around herself.
It wasn't supposed to be like this, she thought, closing her eyes for a moment. It was all supposed to be different.
Her fingers clenched the fabric of her gown as the images of his final days came rushing back—days filled with inexplicable sickness, nights where he cried out in his sleep, his body wasting away with an unknown affliction. She had tried everything. Spells, potions, prayers to the gods. Yet, nothing had worked.
And then, on that fateful night, he was gone. Without warning. Without explanation.
How could this happen? How could I not have seen it coming?
Her breathing quickened, and she shook her head to clear the dark thoughts that gripped her mind. But they refused to leave. Her thoughts were like echoes of her own uncertainty—faint whispers of doubt.
Was it a disease? Was it the work of some unseen enemy? Or… could it have been something else? Something darker? Something she had not been able to comprehend?
Her gaze shifted toward the far corner of the room, where the shadows seemed to dance and sway with the flickering candlelight. She could almost hear his voice again, calling out for her, pleading with her, though she had never been able to understand what he meant.
Was it her? Could it really have been her?
The question gnawed at her, a question she had buried deep beneath layers of denial. The name lingered in the back of her mind—Lilith. The Dark One. Her mind had played tricks on her during those final, frantic weeks. She had seen shadows moving where there were none. Heard whispers in the night when she was sure no one else was awake. Had she truly heard the name Lilith spoken in those moments? Or had her grief twisted her perceptions?
But the timing... the timing of it all... It couldn't be a coincidence.
Her fingers tightened around the window sill as she leaned forward, her breath fogging up the glass.
"No," she whispered aloud, almost as if to convince herself. "It couldn't have been her. It wasn't. It wasn't Lilith."
The very idea seemed impossible. She had been queen for so long, so certain of her control, of her power. To believe that she could have missed something so destructive, something so monstrous, was terrifying. It made her feel… helpless. Weak.
But... what if? What if it was her? What if Lilith had something to do with this? What if she had already been here, in the shadows, watching, waiting? And what if the rumors were true? What if she was coming for me, for all of us?
Queen Nora's pulse quickened. Her heart raced as the possibility loomed larger in her mind, an idea she had once dismissed now growing too powerful to ignore.
Could it have been her? Could Lilith be behind everything? Everything... all this loss? All this pain?
Her breath caught as the darkness in the room seemed to shift. The shadows felt more oppressive now, as though they were reaching for her, closing in on all sides. She stood abruptly, her legs shaky beneath her as she walked toward her bed, but even the soft light of the candles couldn't chase away the sense of something creeping just beyond her vision.
Her thoughts spiraled. The grief. The anger. The fear. What if everything I've done, all the power I've used to protect this kingdom, was nothing compared to the true darkness lurking out there?
Her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke again, this time with a trembling note of uncertainty.
"Was it really her?"
For the first time in years, Queen Nora felt something she hadn't allowed herself to feel since the king's death—fear. A fear not of the unknown, but of something she had spent years trying to forget. Something she had tried so hard to bury deep within her heart.
The possibility that Lilith had been there all along. Watching. Waiting.
And now, maybe, just maybe, the darkness was coming for her.
---
The clang of the knife hitting the target echoed through the empty training courtyard, followed by the soft scrape of North's boots on the stone as she walked forward to retrieve her blades. Her mind had been so preoccupied with thoughts of the Dark One earlier that she had almost forgotten why she had taken up this routine in the first place.
The knives, her skill with them—it was her one constant, her one thing she could control. North's breath came steady and strong as she tossed another knife toward the target, the point embedding deep with a satisfying thud.
Focus. Focus. She repeated the word silently in her mind, willing herself to push aside the fears that had plagued her all afternoon. She hadn't told her mother about her concerns for a reason—she didn't want to seem weak. Still, the nagging worry about Lilith's return, about the kingdom's hidden dangers, refused to go away.
North bent to pick up another knife, her back to the open courtyard, when she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and she paused, knife still in hand.
She turned, expecting to find one of the guards or perhaps a familiar face from the castle staff. But instead, standing just beyond the archway leading into the courtyard was a figure she had never seen before.
A tall man, dressed in dark, weathered robes, his face obscured by a deep hood. The only visible feature was his piercing green eyes—sharp, calculating. He looked almost out of place, as if he belonged to a different world entirely.
North's heart skipped a beat. She had never seen him before, and yet, he stood there, watching her as if he had been expecting her all along.
"Who are you?" North's voice was sharp, defensive. She instinctively gripped the knife tighter in her hand, her stance more cautious.
The man didn't flinch. Instead, he stepped forward slowly, his movements deliberate. His voice was low, almost conspiratorial.
"I know what you're looking for."
North narrowed her eyes. "And what exactly do you think I'm looking for?" she asked, her tone skeptical. She didn't trust this stranger—no one who appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the night could be trusted.
The man didn't answer immediately. Instead, he flicked his gaze to the knives embedded in the target. "The same thing everyone is searching for... the truth." His voice was calm, too calm, and it sent a chill through her.
North's grip on the knife loosened slightly, but she remained on guard. "The truth?" she repeated, her voice laced with doubt. "And what would you know about that?"
The man's gaze turned serious, and for a brief moment, the faintest hint of something ancient and knowing flickered in his eyes. "I know more than you think. There is an item within these walls—an object of immense power. One that could change the course of everything. And it's hidden in plain sight."
North's pulse quickened at his words, but she remained silent, waiting for him to elaborate.
He stepped closer, his cloak trailing behind him like the shadows of the night. "It's not just any object. It has the power to bind or break magic. To manipulate the very fabric of the kingdom's protection. And the Dark One knows of it. She has been searching for it for a long time, but her search has been... fruitless."
North's breath hitched. The Dark One. Her worst fears now seemed to have weight, to have substance. She didn't trust this stranger, but his words stirred something deep within her—something she couldn't quite explain.
"What is this item?" North's voice was barely above a whisper, her curiosity winning out over her caution.
The man's eyes gleamed, but there was a sadness in them too—like someone who had lived too long in the shadows.
"It is called the Emery."