Crown of Shadow and Bones

A Dance with Shadows

The air was thick with the damp musk of the ancient woods, punctuated by the fragrant scent of wildflowers that bloomed in defiance of the encroaching night. Elara stood at the edge of a moss-covered glade, her heartbeat loud against the tranquil backdrop of chirping crickets and rustling leaves. Tonight the moon hung low in the sky, casting a silver sheen over everything and illuminating her small, makeshift altar. She had painstakingly set two dozen delicate candles around her in a semicircle, and they flickered dimly, struggling against the gentle breeze.

She knelt on the cool earth, her mission clear but her resolve wavering, she tossed her long blonde hair over her slender shoulders and reached for her supplies. Tonight was the night she had been working towards for months, years. She would finally bend the boundaries separating life and death, taking a chance to dance with the shadows that few dared to embrace. With trembling hands, she sifted through the assortment of items placed before her-a mixture of crushed herbs, the black blood tonic she'd bought at the apothecary, and a vial of shimmering, iridescent powder gifted from a long-forgotten ally, and an ancient tome filled with notes of hastily scrawled incantations.

"Are you sure about this?" Her friend Mara's voice, tight with anxiety, echoed through the stillness. A shroud of worry wrapped around the glade like a dense fog, heavy and suffocating. Mara stood just outside the glow of the candles, her figure silhouetted against the darkness, her brow furrowed and hands clasped together tightly. "What if you summon something... horrible?"

Elara lifted her gaze, steadied by Mara's presence, yet only half-comforted. "I've studied the texts, Mara. I have the right incantations. I can bring back the spirit of the great sage-someone who can teach me the secrets of death and life," she insisted, however, the truth was far more complicated. She had grown tired of the mundane life of a healer, saving lives but never truly understanding the other side. She was drawn to the shadows, to the power that lay beyond the veil of mortality. She thought of the village, of all the lives she could save if she truly understood death's mysteries.

The shadows seemed to listen, thickening as she returned to her task. She pulled forward her earthenware morter and pestle and began to grind the powder and herbs until they became a sparkling, smooth paste. She mixed it into her dark bloody concoction and watched as it began to swirl like the very fabric of night as it dissolved into a shimmering abyss. Her heart raced with exhilaration, much like a child's on the brink of a glorious adventure.

Mara took a stumbling step back, her unease palpable. "You've read the text about the consequences of practicing necromancy. What if something goes wrong?"

"Nothing will," Elara replied, the fire of determination ignited her passions as she honed in her focus.

With a steadiness she didn't fully feel, Elara began to speak the ancient incantations, her voice low and rhythmic. She raised her right arm and began to trace the symbols of binding and release in the air with her fingertips. She'd practiced them countless times until she could perform them perfectly from memory while reciting the incantations. As her hand slowed the glowing runes began flickering to life, illuminating the clearing with an ethereal glow, lending a dreamlike quality to the moonlit night. When she began to smell the spicy scent of magic in the air she closed her eyes, letting the cadence of the words wash over her, melding with the heavy, enchanted air around her.

As she chanted, she felt a strange energy rise within her, an electric pulse that resonated with the very essence of the woods, it was bewitching, addictive. Each word became a note in a haunting melody, inviting the spectral world to dance with her own, luring the dead to join her in the rapture of crossing the veil. The air grew thick with an anticipation both thrilling and terrifying. She could feel it rising inside her threatening to consume her.

"Mara, don't-" Elara began to warn, but before she could finish, the ground trembled violently, an incessant thrumming rose from beneath them and a bone-chilling scream shattered the calm of the glade.

The shadows that had previously flirted and danced with her now reared up, twisting and coiling like dark serpents determined to ensnare her. The spirit she sought to summon was rising, but it was not the peaceful sage whose knowledge she craved. Instead, a wailing specter emerged, wrapped in shadows that flickered like flame, its anguished face devoid of any peace.

"Mara! Get back!" Elara shouted, fear clawed at her throat as the specter turned its hollow gaze upon her. The wraith's eyes were bottomless black voids and as it tipped back its head the air began to vibrate with anguish, a sound that reverberated deep within her soul.

"Why would you disturb me, girl?" The specter's voice was a haunting melody of despair and fury. When Elara didn't answer it reached out, icy fingers brushing against her cheek, sending a jolt of fear coursing through her.

"Wait! I didn't mean to!" Elara's voice trembled as she struggled to sever the connection to the veil. Shadows twisted and writhed at her feet and she could feel the mounting chaos swirling around her like crashing waves, the breaching boundary of life and death threatening to collapse entirely.

What have I done? I didn't mean for it to happen like this, she thought. The shadows enveloped her even further, pulling her into a vortex of darkness. Her own screams became indistinguishable from the wailing of the disturbed spirit as they were pulled down together. The ground beneath her fell away as she felt herself being drawn into an abyss, bright lights and dark shadows swirled and flashed around her, blinding her to everything she knew. She was being consumed and she was helpless to stop it.

Then, all at once, silence fell, and the world snapped back into focus. Elara found herself sprawled on the cool grass of an unfamiliar landscape. Gasping, she lifted her head, blinking against an unfamiliar brilliance. The sun overhead shone like a beacon, illuminating the glen around her in vibrant shades that seemed to hum with energy and life, a steep contrast to the sill, dark wood she'd just been in. All around her wildflowers swayed in colors she had never imagined-each hue brighter than the last-while the leaves of towering trees flickered like living jewels above her, their leaves a shimmering tapestry of greens and golds.

"What... where am I?" Elara murmured, she raised a trembling hand to her temple. Her head was spinning and her brain felt like it had been scrambled. Her hand came away sticky and warm, she'd managed to gain a small cut on her hairline and it stung from the salty sweat on her skin.

"Elara," a voice drawled with a lilt that was both playful and admonishing. "You've been a naughty, naughty human haven't you?."

She turned, her heart pounding in her chest. Standing before her was a figure of striking elegance-a tall, handsome man with long black hair stared down at her. His emerald green eyes sparkled with mischief and curiosity as they shone down on her. He was adorned with shimmering tattoos that glowed against his flawless skin, there was something not quite human about him, and he unsettled her in a way she couldn't quite fathom.

"Who are you?" she managed, her voice steady despite the panic simmering beneath.

"Kael," he replied, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "And you, my dear necromancer, have entered the world of Aebresia." He stepped back and swept forward in a low, dramatic bow. "And I would like to welcome you to the fae realm."

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