Kingdom of Eldoria

Chapter 3

Lyria's Pov

Lyria's breath caught in her throat. The voice—cold, ancient, dripping with malevolent intent—seemed to curl through the air like smoke. Her hand instinctively reached for the small dagger hidden beneath her cloak, a feeble protection against whatever dark force had followed her into the Enchanted Forest.

Elara stiffened, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the shadows at the edge of the clearing. "Morwen," she whispered, barely audible, her fingers tightening around the pouch at her waist.

From the darkness, a figure emerged. Cloaked in shadow, Morwen stepped into the fading light of the clearing. Her once-regal appearance was now twisted by the years spent in exile—her face gaunt, eyes glowing with an unnatural light. She looked every bit the fallen sorceress of legend, but more dangerous than the stories had ever described.

"You've grown bold, princess," Morwen said, her lips curling into a smile. "Wandering into my forest, seeking out witches and healers. What would your father think?"

Lyria swallowed, forcing herself to stand tall, though every instinct screamed at her to run. "I came for answers," she said, her voice trembling despite her best efforts. "I know something is wrong in the kingdom, and you know it too."

Morwen chuckled, the sound sending a chill down Lyria's spine. "Oh, my dear. Wrong doesn't begin to describe what's coming." She took a step closer, the air growing colder with each of her movements. "The balance is shifting. The magic your father tried so hard to bury... it's awakening. And it will consume everything unless someone strong enough takes control."

Lyria's heart pounded in her chest. She had expected danger, but not this—a confrontation with the very sorceress who had been banished for using forbidden magic. "What do you want with me?" Lyria asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Morwen's eyes glinted with amusement. "You, child? Nothing." She tilted her head, her smile widening. "But the magic that runs through your blood... that is something I intend to claim."

Lyria's mind raced. Magic in her blood? That couldn't be right. Her father had outlawed magic, and her family had always been bound by the rules of the court, by tradition. She had never sensed anything unusual about herself—nothing like the power Morwen spoke of.

Elara stepped forward, placing herself between Lyria and Morwen. Her voice was steady, filled with quiet strength. "You won't touch her, Morwen. The forest protects those who seek it."

Morwen laughed, her dark eyes flashing. "The forest?" She waved her hand dismissively. "The forest answers to a higher power now, girl. You think you can stop me with herbs and whispers?"

Elara's hand darted into her pouch, pulling out a small, glowing vial. She held it high, the light casting strange, twisting shadows on the ground. "This forest knows your name, Morwen," she said, her voice strong and unyielding. "And it hasn't forgotten what you did."

For a brief moment, Morwen's smile faltered, her gaze flickering to the vial in Elara's hand. "You think that will protect you?" she hissed, her voice low and dangerous.

Without warning, Morwen raised her hand, and a wave of dark energy shot toward them, twisting and snarling like a living shadow. Lyria barely had time to react before Elara flung the vial to the ground, shattering it with a brilliant flash of light.

The clearing exploded with energy. Lyria stumbled back, her vision blurring as the force of the magic collided with Morwen's darkness. The air crackled around them, and for a brief, terrifying moment, it felt as though the very earth was shaking beneath her feet.

When the light faded, Morwen was gone. The clearing was silent, save for the soft rustle of the leaves in the wind.

Lyria gasped for breath, her heart racing. She turned to Elara, who stood, trembling slightly, but otherwise calm. "What was that?" Lyria asked, her voice shaking.

Elara's eyes were serious, her expression grim. "Morwen's power is growing. She's not just after the throne—she's after something much older, much darker."

Lyria swallowed hard. "And me? What did she mean about magic in my blood?"

Elara hesitated, glancing toward the place where Morwen had vanished. "You're not just a princess, Lyria. You're part of something much older than the kingdom. And if Morwen finds out the full extent of your power... she won't stop until she controls you."

Lyria's mind spun, the weight of Elara's words pressing down on her. She had come here searching for answers, but now it seemed she was standing on the edge of something much bigger, much more dangerous than she had ever imagined.

"We need to leave," Elara said, her voice urgent. "This is only the beginning. If we're going to stop Morwen, we'll need to find the others."

"The others?" Lyria asked, confused.

Elara nodded, her gaze steely. "There are more like me—more who remember the old magic, who know how to fight it. And we'll need every one of them if we're going to survive what's coming."

Lyria took a deep breath, her hands shaking. The path ahead of her was terrifying, filled with uncertainties and dangers she hadn't even begun to comprehend. But she knew one thing for certain.

There was no turning back now.

She nodded. "Let's go."

Together, they stepped deeper into the forest, the trees closing in around them as the last light of day slipped beneath the horizon.