March 13, 1692.
In every corner of the country, witches are being thrown into burning pits of fire, their skin scorched until it crumbles to dust. Kings, dukes, commanders, priests, all conspiring with one another to bring death to any threat coming...
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"SERAPHINA."
The sorrowful moon hung low in the sky, naked and bare with no sign of clouds, its silver tears streaming down in pools of light. A voice rang through the air like the soft chimes of trinkets, calling her name. Slowly, she took a few steps towards the village, the black smoke in the air engulfing her whole.
"Seraphina?"
She coughed back the dirty air as she broke into a sprint towards the pleading voice of the child. Impatiently pushing back the black ropes of her hair, she pumped her fists through the air, meandering through the towering trees. Huge gushes of wind attacked the defenseless trees as darkness began to encapsulate the light, blanketing any sense of hope as a grey mass of clouds crept across the sky. Roars of thunder echoed through the stormy night. It was as though the elements of wind and the sky worked together to punish the land.
She dug her heels into the dirt and came to a sudden stop. A young girl, strands of red hair sticking out of her braid, stood beside the towering trunk of a tree, a flood of tears streaming down her pale cheeks. Seraphina desperately called out to the girl, begging for her to start running, but she didn't budge. Dangerous flames rose over the trees, threatening to burn them down. The little girl's legs shook uncontrollably beneath her, beads of sweat piling onto her forehead, her feet glued to the ground.
It was as though the universe flicked a switch; the towering trees burst into flames and the roots transformed into a pit of blazing fire. The girl stared at it, her glassy eyes bulging out of their sockets. She turned to face Seraphina, her lips trembling, her eyes wide. Then, the ground opened up like the mouth of Hell and pulled her into the flames.
Seraphina cried out, thrusting her arm forward as she dived into the fire, catching her. The scorching flames mercilessly burned the girl's skin to ash as her wails echoed through the forest.
"Seraphina," whispered the girl, exhaling her last breath. Seraphina watched the rest of her skin slowly peel away, only to leave behind a handful of bones as white as snow.
"Seraphina!"
Her eyes flew open and she staggered towards the wooden table, gasping for breath. Evanora caught her by the shoulders and held her upright. Her throat was scratchy and she continued to cough, as though she was still being suffocated by the black smoke in the air. Her mother reached out and wiped Seraphina's tear stained cheeks.
"What did you see?" Her mother asked gently, her fingers still hovering over her cheek.
"Dahlia and her mother. They're ... safe." Seraphina looked down at her hands, swallowing back a heavy knot forming in her throat.
"No. What did you see?" Her mother repeated, her voice as soft as lonely wind chimes dancing in the summer breeze.
"A girl," she choked out, "she fell into the fire and I—I held her as her skin burned." She closed her fingers into a ball, the weight of the girl's lifeless body still on them.
A knock on the door interrupted their conversation as the royal guard, Cicero, dressed in chain mail, entered the room, his large boots thudding against the floor.
"My queen, you have a visitor." Cicero ducked to the side to reveal a tall man dressed in black. His grey hair was neatly pulled back and his shoes were so finely polished that Seraphina could almost see her reflection in them. The dark pupils in his eyes glared in the direction of Evanora who clasped her hands together and raised her chin.
"Aloysius," said Evanora, no trace of emotion visible in her voice.
"Your Majesty." He bowed, his eyes stubbornly locked onto hers.
Evanora held his gaze in silence as he took one step into the room. He shifted his cold gaze to Cicero who shot Evanora a questioning look. She simply nodded and he left the room.
"Evanora," he began, clearing his throat, "I am here to simply ask—"
"You are here to ask permission to burn my land to ash?" She glared at him dangerously, her voice unwavering.
He shook his head. "I am sure the matter of witches—monsters—living in our world has crossed your mind," his gaze slid to Seraphina, who awkwardly played with her fingers, "especially considering you have a daughter—as do I. Which is why, as Grand Duke of Arden, I have taken it as my responsibility to keep our children safe and to cleanse my country, town by town."
"I see that you have taken the matter into your own hands, have you not? So, why have you come here?"
He cleared his throat. "It has only been a matter of days. I was hoping you would join me—"
"I will never join you," Evanora gasped. "You will put an end to these trials—"
"An end?" He scoffed. "It has only just begun, and it is not in my power to stop it, the people have already—"
"Not in your power," she smiled, "it is in my power. You have destroyed dozens of lands, but I will not allow you to destroy mine. Do not forget that I am Queen of the Fells and I have strong enough forces to keep you out. There are oceans separating us from each other for a reason. I have shown mercy by allowing the people of Arden and Druora to step foot into my country. But, this is my land and my people, and I will not allow you to step foot in here after today. If you would like that written in words, I can have that arranged." Something hot flickered in his gaze, like the glow of a flame trapped under ice. "That will be all, Aloysius."
He whipped his coat and spun around, reaching for the door handle. "Oh, and please refrain from addressing me as Evanora," she continued, "when you are in my home, you shall address me as your Queen." And with that, he angrily stalked out of the room.
Seraphina swirled around to face her mother. Evanora's shoulders were hunched over and her lips were pressed into a thin line.
"Mother..." Seraphina placed her palm on her mother's tensed shoulder, but she didn't seem to notice.
"I am going to do what I should have done a long time ago. I am going to end this war before it starts," she said firmly, and she disappeared out of the door in a swirl of skirts.
