The corridor stretched ahead, long and silent, dimly lit by the soft glow of mounted torches. Elara walked carefully, her silk train gliding across the polished stone, the weight of the veil pressing over her head like a crown she hadn't asked for.
Her hands trembled beneath the bouquet of winter-blooming hydrangeas. Somewhere far ahead, behind heavy doors, nobles waited. A ceremony waited. A stranger—her future—waited.
Or so she thought.
At the end of the hall, two grand doors loomed, tall and carved with the royal crest of Aldovia. Kalynda paused with her and offered a gentle squeeze of the hand. "You are radiant," she whispered, though her voice trembled faintly. She stepped back leaving Elara alone with the door that separated her from her new life.
Elara said nothing. Her pulse thundered beneath her skin.
The doors creaked open.
And the moment she stepped inside, the tension struck her like a physical force.
The grand hall was filled to the brim with nobility. Golden candlelight danced on silver goblets and gem-studded robes. Harps played faintly in the background. The scent of incense and roses lingered in the air.
But something was wrong.
The guests stood in murmuring clusters. Whispers fluttered like wings, barely hidden behind gloved hands and feathered fans. Faces turned toward her—then quickly away, uncertain. There was no music to welcome her walk, no priest at the altar, no groom waiting at the front of the hall.
The space beside the altar—reserved for Prince Kaelos—was empty.
Her breath caught. She kept walking, each step slower than the last, a forced descent into confusion.
Her eyes scanned the length of the hall.
Where is he?
She reached the base of the dais. Still no sign of him.
Queen Alaina stood near the altar, her expression frozen into regal poise—but even she couldn't hide the flicker of nerves in her eyes.
The high priest approached the throne, his robe trailing behind him, his head bowed low and he whispered to the king. "Your Highness, there's been… a delay. His Highness, the prince, is —"
"Is what?" King Aegeus said harshly.
Then suddenly, the doors slammed open.
A few guests gasped, turning toward the entrance.
Prince Kaelos strode in at last, his cloak catching behind him like a dark wave.
He wore royal regalia—midnight blue with gold accents, the sigil of Aldovia embroidered across his chest. His face was hard, his jaw set, eyes forward.
He did not pause to glance at her. He barely acknowledged anyone.
Without a word, he took his place beside her.
The ceremony began with no apology.
The priest cleared his throat and opened the sacred book, reciting ancient vows passed down through generations. Elara stood beside Kaelos, still reeling, her body stiff beneath the veil.
She dared a glance at him. But Kaelos did not return it.
His fingers tensed at his sides. His eyes locked ahead.
"Kaelos," Elara whispered, testing the name that would bind her. It felt foreign and cold.
He glanced at her—sharp and sudden.
His eyes caught the soft sheen of her honey-brown hair, twisted into an intricate braid that crowned her head like a halo, a few rebellious strands curling loose against her temple.
Her eyes, wide and a deep shade of stormy violet, flickered with uncertainty beneath the delicate veil.
The candlelight kissed the silver embroidery along her gown, which clung to her like a second skin before cascading in waves around her feet—elegant, poised, and entirely too real.
For a moment, Kaelos stared—long enough to betray something unspoken— he took in every part of her, from her feet to her head, his eyes lingering a bit longer at her breasts before his gaze shuttered, and he looked away.
"Elara." He said. One word. No warmth.
The ceremony began. Sacred words woven with ancient promises filled the space, but to her, they sounded like the rustling of dry parchment—formal, scripted, and empty.
"Do you, Elara, take Kaelos to be your husband, to cherish and obey…"
The words drifted into thin air, Elara's hands gripping her bouquet, slowly squeezing the life out of the hydrangeas.
Her throat tightened. Her voice, when it came, was barely above a whisper.
"I do." She nodded slightly.
She felt the cool press of the ring against my finger—a symbol of a union, a sentence, a sealed fate.
"And do you, Kaelos, take Elara—"
"I do." He cut in, clipped and dismissive.
The priest lifted his hands. "Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and—"
Before he could finish, a loud, sharp crack rang through the hall.
Then darkness clouded the hall.
All at once, every flame in the grand hall was snuffed out, leaving only stunned silence and the echo of the priest's final word.
Then suddenly — laughter. A slow, deliberate, echoing laugh.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. A thick, unnatural fog curled across the floor. Smoke rose from the corners of the room, curling toward the vaulted ceiling like black silk.
"Elara," Kaelos muttered, instinctively stepping in front of her.
A burst of violet light split the darkness—followed by the clap of cold hands.
"Well well." came a soft, seductive voice. "What a shame. A wedding—and not a single invitation for me?" She teased.
From the smoke, a figure stepped forth, her silhouette elegant and terrifying all at once.
"Ashgi." Queen Alaina said quietly.
Cloaked in midnight robes threaded with silver runes, her skin pale as moonlight and her lips stained crimson, the sorceress moved with regal grace.
Her silver hair fell in long waves, eyes glowed with strange light. Her presence chilled the air itself.
Cries of fear rippled through the court. Guards unsheathed swords. Queen Alaina took a single step forward—then froze.
Ashgi smiled, slow and sharp.
"After all I've done for you, Aegeus," she said, her voice directed to the king now standing from his throne. "This is how you betray me? You deprive me of such a beautiful sight." She said, looking around the decorated hall.
And then she turned to Kaelos. "I have waited for this day my child, after all, I did raise you. Watched you take your first steps."
The king grew impatient, his voice rang out, firm despite the tension. "Ashgi. You were banished—"
"And you think banishment keeps me away?" She turned in a slow circle, laughing again. "Such hubris. Such delusion Aegeus, you refuse to change."
She walked slowly, her steps devilish and elegant. Before her eyes set on Elara.
"What a beautiful bride." She said. Her lips curled into a smile.
"Guards." King Aegeus called out.
The guards began to approach.
Ashgi raised one hand—and every man in armour dropped to his knees, groaning as a wave of invisible force crushed the air around them.
Elara gasped, clutching her chest at the sight before her.
"I came to give a gift." She said swiftly. "A promise."
Her hands dropped to her side, freeing the guards.
Ashgi tilted her head. "You Aegeus have wronged me in ways more than one."
"Ashgi, you would do well to remember whose court you stand in." The king's voice was cold now, threaded with steel.
Ashgi's smile didn't falter. She stepped closer to the dais, uncowed. "Oh, I remember. I remember everything. The halls where I once walked freely. The oaths I swore. The rituals I performed on your behalf—" she paused, her eyes glinting as they flicked back to Kaelos, "—and the child I protected."
Gasps echoed. Elara's heart hammered in her chest.
"You think you've stripped me of power, Aegeus. You think you've won." She turned slowly, addressing the court. "But your peace is a veil. Your kingdom rots from within—and now, so shall your future."
She raised her hand—and the torches lining the great hall lit up to show her fully. Her beauty was terrible. One side of her face was marred by a scar that ran from her temple to her jaw. Raw and precise like lightning froze in her skin.
Her voice rang out through the dark.
"As you have cast me aside, so too shall darkness fall upon this kingdom. The heirs of Aldovia will know ruin. Your joy will turn to ash. And love…" her gaze cut toward Kaelos and Elara, her lips curling, "…will be your undoing."
She stepped forward. An eerie grace toward the throne, each footstep echoed unnaturally loud as though the stones feared her touch.
"Your arrogance will cost you, Aegeus. A death will be answered by ruin. The pain you caused will bloom in your house, and the crown you clutch so tightly will one day burn you from the inside out."
There was a pause. Her gaze slid to Queen Alaina. Who looked stunned yet weary.
"And when it comes," she said softly, "it won't be by my hand."
Queen Alaina stiffened. Kaelos frowned. Elara's skin prickled with unease.
Ashgi smiled, slowly. "The blood you will spill will not stay buried."
"Enough!" the king barked. "How dare you come to me with your threats—"
Ashgi's voice grew louder now. Ignoring his remarks.
"You will take something that does not belong to you. And in doing so, you will light the fire that will consume your own house."
A murmur swept the room. Elara stared, unblinking.
Ashgi's lips curled. "You won't see it at first. Not until it's too late. Until the roots of your kingdom begin to rot from within. Until the blood you spill calls back to you."
Kaelos tensed, his hand brushing the hilt of his sword.
"And when it does," she added, her eyes flashing, "don't say you weren't warned."
"SEIZE HER!" the king roared.
But as the guards lunged forward—Ashgi vanished, her wicked laugh echoing as traces of her left completely.
A gust of cold wind whipped through the hall. The torches flickered violently. Then—
Darkness. And silence.
Ashgi was gone.