In The Shadows of Deceit

Prologue

“May the goddess of the silver flame claim me first,” the witch whispered, her hand weaving an impenetrable force with a single fluid motion.

She darted through the unfamiliar woods filled with rose thorns and mist, driven by urgency toward the rendezvous point where her second-in-command, Ravynne, should be waiting.

In the midst of her hasty escape, the echoes of screams from family members and servants haunted her thoughts. She couldn’t discern whether those cries were real or mere haunting reverberations.

Fleeing after six centuries of dominance was a role reversal she never expected, and the notion of being the one in flight was foreign to her, especially with a newborn baby whose eyes shimmered like pale aventurine gemstones in the moonlight and whose hair glowed onyx black. The name “Onyx” slipped from her lips.

Staring at the slumbering child, she marveled at the extraordinary presence the baby possessed, oblivious to the tragic destiny looming ahead.

As she tenderly caressed the infant’s head, an unprecedented surge of power coursed through her, a sensation unlike anything she had encountered in her six centuries of existence. Startled, her eyes widened in amazement.

“Nyanthera!” someone exclaimed, turning towards the source of the voice.

“Ravynne, what kept you so long? Time is of the essence,” Nyanthera whispered urgently. “Apologies my supreme, the silver flame held me back.” Ravynne responded.

“I’ve cast a temporary hearing spell, but it won’t hold once the blood moon dampens our magic. Have you completed your task in the Ilithiyan Kingdom?” With a deep, pained breath and a solemn nod, Ravynne replied, “Yes. Now, we must transport this child to the dark kingdom of Drailious before anyone raises suspicion.”

Ravynne produced a small satchel from her black tunic pocket, revealing the stolen stardust from the Pixies.

Nyanthera couldn’t help but chuckle about Queen Auralus of the Pixies, who surely would not take kindly to this situation. As Ravynne recited incantations in an ancient tongue, they found themselves instantaneously outside the dwelling of the Highcrest assassins in Drailious.

Ravynne instructed Nyanthera to place the child by the entrance, assuring her that she would use stardust to teleport them away before any discovery was made.

Carefully, Nyanthera settled the child into a woven basket, covering her with blankets and leaving behind a letter explaining a mother’s decision to relinquish her child, named ‘Onyx Lianthia,’ into the care and tutelage of Aleksei and Kamari Highcrest.

Nyanthera then removed a ring from her finger and fastened it onto an amulet, which she delicately hung around the child’s neck. The child staring at the witch with the utmost curiosity.

With a dagger, she pricked her own finger and traced an elder rune onto the forehead. The child’s forehead absorbed her blood, rendering the band invisible.

She spoke softly to the child, conveying that the emerald gold ring would manifest itself when the child was ready or when she will unlock her true powers that would eventually emerge. She assured the child that she would be waiting when the time came.

Nyanthera thought of how she separated the child from a life she would never know, a heavy pressure welled up in her chest.

Witnessing the prophecy unfold within the silver flame, she understood that she had no choice but to abduct the child to prevent her untimely demise. The burden of foreseeing the future was a constant and somber companion in her life.

After knocking loudly on the entrance and then turning her back to the child, Nyanthera noticed the glistening tears in Ravynne’s eyes.

“It is for the best,” Nyanthera uttered, though she could hardly convince herself of the truth in those words.

They enveloped themselves in an invisible shield as they observed a heavily pregnant redhead opening the door. Kamari Highcrest, a woman known for her kindness and lethal skills, read the note, all while a worsening rainstorm raged outside.

She picked up the basket with the babe and brought her inside where the witches could faintly hear Kamari calling out to Aleksei.

“Let’s return home, Ravynne,” Nyanthera said softly as stardust whirled around them. They instantly arrived in the silver flame coven.

The weight of destiny hung heavy on Nyanthera’s shoulders as she reflected on the child she had taken from the life that was meant for her.

The silver flame’s prophecy had unfolded before her eyes prior to the babe being born, leaving her with no choice but to do what was necessary.

Nyanthera’s visions were a haunting reminder of the tangled threads of fate that bound the child, Onyx Lianthia. She knew that the gods had set their course, and it was not for her to alter their designs.

The weight of destiny lay heavily on her shoulders as she and Ravynne stood before the flickering silver flame, the symbol of their coven’s connection to the mystical forces that governed their world.

“We have done our part in the child’s life; we are no more than observers until the time is right. Her fate is now in the hands of the gods, so are the others” the high priestess spoke, her voice resonating with a wisdom that came from centuries of communing with the divine.

Nyanthera nodded, her heart heavy with the knowledge that her role in Onyx’s life had been that of a guardian, albeit one who had to make a painful choice.

She had taken the child to safeguard her from a prophecy that foretold a grim fate, but destiny was an intricate tapestry, and she could only glimpse a few threads.

As Nyanthera’s eyes rolled back, she surrendered herself to the silver flame’s embrace. The visions came rushing forth, like a river of time flowing in reverse, revealing moments from Onyx’s life yet to unfold.

Among the images, one stood out—a young boy with hair as white as snow and eyes as bright as the bluest glaciers.

The boy’s life unfolded before Nyanthera’s eyes, a tale of hardship and suffering. She saw him being raised by unkind people, thrust into a life of cruelty and exploitation.

His path led him to a place of darkness—a bordello run by Lucille Delacroix, a savage woman of the Light Kingdom of Ilithiya who used even her own children within her sinister trade.

Tears shimmered in Nyanthera’s eyes as she watched the boy’s life unfold in the vision. Her gift of foresight was indeed a double-edged sword.

Knowing the future brought with it the agony of witnessing the suffering that lay ahead, yet she was powerless to interfere with the divine course set by the gods.

Ravynne, too, shared in the sorrow of these glimpses into the child’s future. The weight of their knowledge was a heavy burden, but they had no choice but to bear it. They were mere conduits of fate, tasked with preserving the threads of destiny until the appointed time.

As the vision faded, Nyanthera and Ravynne exchanged a somber glance. They knew that Onyx’s journey was fraught with challenges and trials, and they could only hope that she would find the strength to endure.

“Our duty is clear,” Nyanthera whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of sorrow and resolve. “We must watch over her, protect her from afar, and be ready to aid her when the time comes.”

Ravynne nodded in agreement, her eyes filled with determination. “We will be her unseen guardians, guiding her from the shadows.”

With their hearts heavy but their purpose resolute the witches departed from the flickering silver flame and their revered high priestess, their crimson and golden robes billowed in the wind a vibrant symphony of color dancing against the backdrop of the fading twilight.

They knew that the path ahead would be fraught with uncertainty, but they were bound by an unbreakable oath.