A boy cursed with Serpentblood. An exiled young dwarf in pursuit of his destiny. A she-elf guided by a religious prophecy.
Together, they must rise to find the coveted Light of the World, a saviour who promises to tip the scale of waging Spiritual...
At the dawn of the Southern Isles, when life was new, Ethomoore was the birthplace of music and the arts.
Eliza walked through the city's golden country fields, the mid-morning sun rays bathing her face in light. The long grass tickled her fingers as she brushed her hand through its delicate tendrils.
"Calamity approaches. Evil schemes in darkness and heroes rise from the ashes of war to reclaim their homeland."
A gentle wind carried Eliza's hair over her head. Her pink dress fluttered, and her eyes shifted to a blurred, distant figure approaching from afar.
"It is a prophecy you shall lead, daughter of the Rendley Dynasty. A stolen throne awaits your return, and a people enslaved to the dark will be set free."
Eliza watched the details of the figure emerge. It was a man in white robes with side-swept blonde hair and golden eyes. His skin was fair and without blemish, and his face was sculpted to ideal perfection. His radiant smile exuded warmth and comfort, and he extended a hand to greet her.
Eliza instinctively reached for his invitation, feeling her feet lift off the ground as she floated forward.
"You are the light of the world, my dear princess. Together, we will restore Roxundam to its ultimate potential, a king and queen commanding the most powerful nation in history."
Eliza felt a sudden doubt infiltrate her mind, and she quickly pulled back before the man could welcome her into his tempting embrace.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"This world will wither. Only you can save it. Join me, and I can show you how."
"You speak as if I intend to serve myself. I will not. This world is not mine to claim."
"Is it not?"
Eliza shook her head.
With a smirk, the man transformed into the likeness of an elegant woman. She wore similar white robes, with shoulder-length pink hair and a golden crown on her head.
Eliza gasped. She looked at a reflection of her older self, a lifelike image of a possible future.
The woman's green eyes narrowed, and her lips extended into an eerie smile.
"Come, child. Give in to me, and I can make you the saviour these people deserve."
"I am not a god," said Eliza.
"Not yet."
"You dare tempt me with El Olam's power?"
"Does it seem fair that only He can wield authority over creation? You are right to crave it. Imagine the strength we would possess."
"You speak of we, but what makes you believe I would share such power?"
The woman laughed.
"I will show you how to use it. Take my hand, and we will fulfill your destiny."
"You bargain with what you do not possess—dominion over all living things," said Eliza. "You do not want to teach but control me, your little puppet, to trample once you get what you want. Your words are not wisdom, only folly. You are deceit incarnated. A serpent spitting lies in my ear."
The partial kindness of the woman's face melted away, replaced with a cold hatred that shook Eliza to her core.
Darkness blotted out the sun, setting the golden fields of Ethomoore ablaze. The fire consumed them instantly while a giant red dragon landed behind the woman, shifting her facade back into that of the handsome young man.
"You are nothing without me."
"I am a daughter of El Olam," Eliza said affirmingly. "Tempt me as you desire, but I will not bargain with a snake fated to be crushed under my heel."
The man screamed at Eliza with fury, his body stretching into a tall, thin, skeletal frame with grey skin and black eyes. He bared a mouth layered with sharp teeth while simultaneously stabbing her in the chest with his long, jagged fingernails.
Eliza jerked back as the man's neck elongated, his gaping jaws crying out as they lunged for her neck.
"Then you will die!"
The red dragon unleashed a plume of fire on Eliza, trapping her in a vortex of flames. Darkness slowly drowned her in its infinite void.
***
Kaelam Galadar dropped his waterskin in fright when Eliza's body started writhing next to him. Her pupils dilated while foam frothed at the edges of her mouth.
"Eliza!"
Kaelam rolled the girl onto her side and held her head firmly, her limbs thrashing on the ground. Carmine Foy ran to the princess's aide, leaving the company of the grey mare chewing an apple from her palm.
They were camped in a forest glen deep within the Withered Woodlands, several hours from Roxundam's borders. The ruins of Ethomoore remained another day's travel ahead.
"Stand back!" Carmine said. "I need to combat the evil before it devours her heart."
Kaelam fell back, his mouth agape.
"El Olam, shine your light! Obliterate the darkness before it takes your child into the eternal night!"
Carmine uttered the prayer repeatedly while pressing her thumbs into Eliza's forehead.
"Shine your light! Obliterate the darkness before it takes this child away from the fight!"
Eliza gasped, filling her lungs with newfound life before vomiting black sludge onto the ground. Carmine clung to her like a devoted mother, Kaelam watching the events unfold with horror.
"What happened?" he asked.
"Tysceras," Carmine said, taking comfort as she felt Eliza's arms wrap around her waist. "He has learnt of our quest. We must tread obediently in El Olam's light, for the fallen one is on the hunt. He is afraid, which makes him recklessly unpredictable."
"He is coming," Eliza said, weeping into the moon elf's shoulder. "He is coming to set the world on fire!"
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