The forest was calm, the sky peeking through the canopy of leaves crisp and blue. Lush with grass and sprinkled with flowers, tall trunks circled around a small clearing. In the middle stood a young woman, eyes closed, fingers stretched down towards the earth.
With a thin face and sharp features, she was beyond stunning. Her flowing dark red hair tumbled down, tickling the sash that tied around her thin waist, accentuating her curves. The long flowing dress she wore could be considered revealing to some with its plunging neckline and high slit, but she cared not for the thoughts of others. Her feet were bare, her toes gently curling into the lush ground beneath her.
Her plump lips were moving gently, muttering something under her breath. Softly, a breeze began to blow, swirling her hair around her and rustling the trees. Her mouth moved faster and her fingers reached further toward her feet.
The wind blew in circles around her, growing and building. Suddenly, a horn sounded in the distance and the air stopped.
Astasha's eyes snapped open, a fiery gold, breathtaking and terrifying. "Damnit." She sighed loudly and pursed her lips. She knew that horn and knew that she would have to wait to gather energy.
Astasha was a sorceress, a witch born of nature and trained in the art of harnessing its energy, and a good one at that. In fact, she had recently been selected by the king himself to become one of his trusted Royal Magic Advisors, and at 24 years old, the youngest to ever join their ranks.
Having grown up in the village just outside the castle walls, her mother had made sure the man upon the throne had learned of her skills the moment they came to light. To be a member of the Royal Magic Advisory was a great honor, and while Astasha had wanted nothing more than to settle in with a small coven and work in an apothecary, her mother would hear nothing of it. When word had come from the castle that Astasha's presence was requested for a demonstration to be considered, there was no fighting the young beauty's adamant and stern mother.
It was with great reluctance that Astasha had left the small village and moved into the large stone castle to reside in the wing designated for magical personnel. It was nothing like her quaint little cottage in the village with its open windows and surrounding garden. Though the portion of the palace she resided in had plenty of open areas and exits that lead directly to the forest that spread right up to the castle walls behind, it often felt like a cage.
Astasha found herself more than usual making the excuse that she needed to be in nature to gather energy simply to escape the stagnant walls and breath the fresh air, but this time, she actually had needed the boost. She had depleted herself attempting to perform a complicated strategy reading for the King's top advisors and the horn blowing in the distance had interrupted her before she could regain it all.
But the horn could not be ignored. It signaled the arrival of a guest, and an important one at that, and Astasha knew she would be required to be present, either to read the energy of the newcomer or simply provide a show of power as one of the many forces the king had gathered about him.
Taking a deep breath Astasha resigned herself to return under the moon to complete her process and slipping on a pair of simple shoes, headed out of the clearing down a path that led to a private entrance into one of the castle's gardens in the Magic Wing.
It took her no time to quickly rush through the garden and down an open corridor, winding her way to the castle's entrance. It was designed with grandeur in mind, with great stairs leading to many landings, and at its center, a platform above the rest. Each landing was designated for a different group, one for the highest military advisors, another, the Royal entertainers, off to the side, the leading chefs and cooks, the scholars, the merchants, and of course, the Magic advisors and healers. The highest platform was for the King himself, a long, tall staircase leading down to it.
The area was bustling with people, gathering and muttering. Astasha stepped quickly and gracefully around them, coming to stand next to a middle-aged man in a long cloak upon the landing just to the right of the kings platform. He glanced at her with a furrowed brow.
"Your energy is unbalanced." He quipped at her.
"As would yours be oh Grand Sorcerer Errant had your gathering been interrupted. Who's arrival are we judging today?"
Errant's eyebrows raised. "Have you not heard or have you been too distracted to hone your senses my dear girl? The King's son has finally returned from his travels."
Astasha's jaw dropped slightly but she had no time to question. At that moment the King stepped down the stairs and to the platform and all fell silent and still.
King Josnan was a tall and powerful man, his silver hair and aged face only adding to the stature of his position. Those who did not know him may have feared him, but the truth was, he was a fair and honest man. He was dressed in a combination of formal and military attire, as was usual for the arrival of any esteemed guest. But while his face was stoic, Astasha could feel a buzz of energy coming off of him, an excitement that could only be felt, not seen.
The King's son had left a couple of years ago to travel the land, studying and training, taking a journey every Royal was required to before ruling. It was a trial of sorts. In order to rule, an heir had to learn all there was of their people and lands, as well as conquer a new territory and heal the sick. It was believed that until they could prove that they could care for the kingdom in every way, they could not rule it.
No one knew when or if the heir would return, but it was a monumental event for them to do so. It meant that they had successfully passed their final test, the test of life and death, of good and evil, proving once and for all that they would rule with kindness and bravery, and not even death nor temptation could sway them.
Astasha could feel her heart race as she looked to the stairs into the entrance. Errant gave her a puzzled look, reading the energy coming off her in droves, but before she could calm her mind and steady herself, her breath caught altogether.
A host of men had just approached the bottom of the stairs, a great white stallion at its front. From the magnificent creature lightly jumped a young man, tall and elegant, yet strong and brutally handsome, with silver blond shaggy hair and eyes as crystal blue as the winter sky. He made his way up the stairs, his silver armor shining in the light, and came to rest in front of the King who opened his arms wide.
"Welcome home Prince Calder, my son."