Seraphina's POV:
In the pitch-black abyss, the echoes of a familiar voice reverberated through the darkness. "Did my mother send you to do this? Was the prophecy faked on purpose?" the voice yelled, tinged with anger and suspicion.
Amidst the void, I struggled to make sense of my surroundings. Panic gnawed at me, and I felt trapped in a world of silence and obscurity. "Am I dead?" I wondered. "Why can't I move or talk? Why is it so dark and silent?"
Suddenly, a bellowing laugh pierced the silence, filling the void with an unsettling resonance. "Why would your mother, the Queen, do this? She has everything in her hands," the voice retorted, its tone dripping with sinister amusement.
Frustration and fear welled up within me. I desperately tried to speak, to confront the voice, but my efforts were in vain. The darkness seemed to hold me in an unyielding grip, rendering me mute and immobile.
Thump. Thump. Footsteps were coming closer. My heart pounded in my chest, and I strained to identify the source of the voice, hoping against hope that it might be Ethan's familiar tone. But the darkness offered no clues, leaving me with nothing but uncertainty and a gnawing sense of dread. I knew I couldn't give in to fear; I had to find a way out of this abyss.
Suddenly, unfamiliar echoes grew stronger, and I could make out words, fainted and fragmented, " Seraphina's fate… intertwined… council's concern… unforeseen consequences…"
"We need to save her," a voice declared, its urgency cutting through the air. Relief washed over me momentarily, knowing that someone among the council members saw the importance of rescuing me from this suffocating darkness. But the feeling of comfort was short-lived, replaced by a nagging sense of doubt. Could I trust them?
My eyes fluttered open, and to my astonishment, I found myself in the midst of a surreal scene. Surrounding me was a round table, illuminated by the soft glow of magical orbs that hovered above. Ancient, wise-looking men with long flowing robes were seated around the table, their faces etched with lines of experience and the weight of ages. It was the Council of Elders.
As I tried to sit up, a mysterious force seemed to keep me in place. I couldn't move, and it dawned on me that I was invisible to them, a mere observer in their clandestine meeting. The realization both intrigued and frustrated me. I longed to demand answers, to confront them about their plans and intentions, but my voice remained unheard in this strange ethereal realm.
The council members continued their discussion, their voices low and hushed, as if trying to keep their deliberations secret from prying ears. The urgency in their tones was palpable, and I strained to catch every word, every morsel of information that might shed light on the situation.
"Seraphina's fate is intertwined with the prophecy," one of the council members spoke, his voice laden with concern. "If left unchecked, her connection to the boy from the human realm could disrupt the delicate balance between our worlds."
"The consequences of their bond are unpredictable," another elder chimed in, his expression grave. "It could lead to unforeseen ramifications, both for Lumineon and the human world."
The gravity of their words weighed heavily on me. It was true; I had felt the inexplicable pull towards Ethan, a connection that went beyond mere rivalry. But was our bond truly endangering both realms? I couldn't believe that my feelings for him could be a threat.
"We must tread carefully," a wise-looking elder spoke, his voice resonating with authority. "Elder Lysander is aware of the situation. He will decide the best course of action."
As the council members continued to deliberate, a sense of helplessness washed over me. I yearned to be part of the discussion, to contribute to the decisions that would determine my fate and that of Lumineon. Yet, I remained a silent observer, unable to intervene or influence their decisions.
In the midst of my despair, a glimmer of hope emerged as Elder Lysander, the venerable figure with eyes of starlight, spoke up. "Let's give her another chance. Save her." His words resonated with an air of authority, a voice of reason that offered a lifeline in the sea of uncertainty.
Time seemed to stretch on, and the council's voices eventually began to fade. The meeting was drawing to a close, and I knew that soon I would be back in the darkness, with no answers to the questions that plagued me.
In the midst of the darkness, a faint whisper reached my ears, calling out my name. "Seraphina. Seraphina." The voice was distant, almost like a gentle echo traveling through the void. I strained to discern its source, unsure if it was real or a figment of my imagination.