The pure darkened black moon stood tall and proud in the midnight sky, scattered with shining stars that provided the only source of light in the eerie forest.
Emily stood within the dark and quiet woods, her body trembling as she stared up at the black moon in silence. Her fear slowly shifted to curiosity as her gaze remained fixed on the strange celestial body. Just as she began to walk towards the black moon, the scene shattered.
Emily jolted awake, sitting upright in her bed, her heart pounding as she tried to ease her mind. She looked around the room, sighing as she was reminded once again about her new home.
Emily
Her eyes widened in shock as she frantically scanned the room, searching for the source of the mysterious voice.
Why are you trembling?
She picked up the lantern by her bedside, its faint glow barely cutting through the darkness. As she heard the voices outside her door, curiosity tugged at her, compelling her to leave the safety of her room. The unlit hallway stretched before her, its shadows deep and unsettling.
Emily.
The voice called again, echoing through the silent corridor. Emily followed it, her bare feet padding softly against the cold floor. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, but no response came.
Frustration mingled with fear as she frowned into the darkness. "I don't like your cryptic messages," she muttered, her voice tinged with defiance.
She's waiting. Don't tremble in fear.
Emily trembled at the words, but she pushed forward, her hands clasping the lantern tightly. She followed the voice through the winding hallways, the words repeating and replaying, shifting between masculine and feminine tones.
The voice finally led her to a large door at the end of the hall. "The castle library?" Emily muttered as she stared at the door.
Enter
The command was gentle, almost soothing, as Emily hesitantly stretched her hand toward the door's knob. But just as she was about to grasp it, her movements faltered, and her body trembled with fear.
"Who are you?" Emily asked, stepping back from the door, her voice quivering.
Stop trembling Emily.
The voice seemed to come from right beside her, startling Emily. She flinched, her fear intensifying as she backed away from the door.
"No," Emily whispered, her resolve breaking. She turned and bolted down the hallway, her body trembling uncontrollably as she reached her room. She shut the door behind her, leaning against it as she struggled to catch her breath, her heart pounding in her chest. The echoes of the voice lingered in her mind, but she refused to listen any longer.
"I'm going to bed. I'm not listening to you anymore!" Emily shouted into the empty, silent room, her voice echoing back at her. She climbed onto her bed, pulling the covers tightly around her, and shutting her eyes tight.
✨🌙✨
Emily sat at the desk in her room, her mind clouded with thoughts of the night. She held a quill loosely in her hand, her eyes fixed on the blank sheet of paper before her. Slowly, she began to sketch, her focus narrowing to the lines and shapes forming on the page as her thoughts filled with her strange encounter with the voices.
When she finished, Emily set down the pen and gazed at her work. The image of the black moon from her dreams stared back at her, ominous and foreboding. Surrounding it were shadowy, formless figures, just as they had appeared around her at the corner of her eyes. She couldn't shake the feeling that these drawings held some meaning
A sudden knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts, her attention snapping back to the present. She hesitated for a moment; her mind still tangled in the mystery of her sketch before she turned her gaze to the door.
"Come in," Emily called out, her voice steady despite the unease lingering in her chest.
The door creaked open, and a maid entered, greeting Emily with a soft smile. "Good day, my lady," she said warmly. "Breakfast is waiting for you."
"Okay," Emily sighed, standing up from her desk. The weight of the previous night's events still pressed on her mind. "Please, I'd like to wear something simple today. A dress that I can move easily in."
"Of course, my lady," the maid replied calmly.
✨🌙✨
Emily walked into the dining hall, her footsteps echoing in the empty space. The hall was silent, the space only filled with the presence of a few guards standing by. As she approached one of the guards, she forced a smile.
"Good morning," she greeted warmly. "Isn't Trevon joining us for breakfast today?"
The guard shook his head gently. "Trevon is in a meeting right now. He won't make it, my lady."
Emily nodded, feeling a pang of solitude as she thanked the guard for the information. She turned away from the guards and took a seat at one of the long, empty tables.
As she looked at the food in front of her, the stillness of the hall seemed to magnify her sense of isolation. She sighed, picked up her utensils, and began to eat, her thoughts drifting back to the unsettling events of the night.
✨🌙✨
Emily stood up from her seat, her plate finally empty, though the food had done little to ease the restlessness in her mind. She hesitated, not wanting to return to her room where the thoughts of the night would resurface. As she looked around the empty hall, an idea suddenly struck her.
Approaching one of the guards, she offered a warm smile. "Could you please take me to the kitchen?" she asked her voice light but determined.
The guard looked at her with mild surprise. "Do you need more food, my lady? I can call one of the chefs to bring you something else," he suggested gently.
"No, that's not necessary," Emily quickly replied, her tone more forceful than she intended. Realizing this, she took a breath and softened her voice. "I want to bake something myself. I just need to see the kitchen."
The guard hesitated for a moment, but seeing the earnest expression on her face, he nodded. "Of course, my lady. I'll take you there right away."
With a quick bow, the guard gestured for Emily to follow him.
✨🌙✨
Emily kneaded the dough on the flat table in the spacious kitchen, her hands moving rhythmically as she worked. A gentle smile spread across her face, the repetitive motion calming her thoughts and bringing a sense of peace.
Once the dough was smooth and elastic, she carefully transferred it to an iron pan. With a sharp blade in hand, she skillfully scored intricate patterns into the dough. Satisfied with her work, Emily carried the pan over to the brick stove nestled in the wall, feeling a quiet sense of accomplishment as she prepared to bake.
"What are you doing here, Emily?"
A gentle voice called out, startling Emily. She flinched at the sound and quickly turned around to see who it was. Her eyes met the warm gaze of King Ronan, who stood in the doorway, smiling at her.
"Oh, King Ronan," Emily stammered, feeling a bit awkward.
King Ronan stepped into the kitchen; his movements graceful as his black cloak trailed softly behind him. "As I said, you can call me Ronan," he reminded her with a chuckle. His eyes shifted to the table, noticing the assortment of baking materials spread out.
"Were you baking?" he asked gently, his tone kind and curious.
"Yes, I was. I got a little bored," Emily replied with a nervous chuckle.
"Sorry about that," Ronan said, his tone sincere. "I needed Trevon for a meeting, otherwise he would have accompanied you today."
Emily nodded softly, feeling a bit awkward as she stood there, half-expecting him to leave and let her continue on her own.
But Ronan didn't leave. Instead, he spoke again, his gaze still on her. "I have to say," he began, "your baked goods are astounding."
"Really?" Emily's voice brightened with joy, her eyes widening in surprise.
"Yes," Ronan affirmed with a warm smile. "I know a few things about baking—learned from my mom—but I'm still not great at it," he added with a chuckle, his self-deprecating humour making her relax a bit more.
Emily smiled gently at his words. "So, your mom is a baker?" she asked.
"You could say that," he replied with a tight smile, a hint of something unspoken in his eyes. Then, after a brief pause, he continued, "Would you accompany me? I'd like to chat."
Emily stood in shock at his request, her gaze instinctively shifting to the stove where her dough was baking. Ronan noticed her hesitation and followed her gaze.
"No need to worry. One of the chefs will take care of it for you," Ronan assured her with a gentle nod.
"Oh, okay," Emily replied, still processing the unexpected invitation. "I'll accompany you."
✨🌙✨
Emily trailed behind King Ronan as they approached the door. The guards standing by opened it with practiced ease, and the two of them stepped inside.
Emily's gaze swept across the vast room, which resembled a grand ballroom. A magnificent chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling, its crystal prisms reflecting the light in dazzling patterns. Each corner of the room was lined with towering shelves filled with ancient scrolls and leather-bound books. Large windows were set into the walls, their panes allowing the soft light of the day to pour in and illuminate the room in a warm, golden glow.
"So, Emily," King Ronan called, drawing her attention. "How are your powers coming along?"
Emily froze at the question, her mind drifting back to the haunting voices from the previous night. She hesitated before answering, deciding to keep that unsettling experience to herself. "It's going well," she replied, forcing a small smile. "I plan to visit the library soon."
King Ronan hummed softly at her response, his sharp eyes catching the way she avoided his gaze. His smile faltered momentarily, but he quickly composed himself. Turning towards one of the large windows, he gestured for Emily to join him at a nearby table. Reluctantly, she followed.
"You see these tables filled with letters, drawings, and paintings," King Ronan said, directing her attention to the collection of colourful works scattered across the table.
"Yes," Emily replied, her confusion evident as she took in the sight.
"These were created by the children of the Islands," King Ronan explained, picking up one of the drawings and gazing at it thoughtfully.
Emily's eyes landed on a piece of paper nearby. "There's writing on this one," she noted, curiosity piqued.
King Ronan nodded, watching her closely as she picked up the paper and began to read aloud. "I always wanted to be an artist, but I never had the chance. My father and I moved to the Islands, and now I finally have the opportunity to follow my dream. Thank you, King Ronan."
As she finished reading, Emily felt a warmth in her chest, the simple message carrying a heartfelt sincerity. She glanced at King Ronan, who smiled softly, his expression filled with pride.
"Many lives have been destroyed in the past," King Ronan said softly, his gaze fixed on the windows. "Homes broken, dreams unfulfilled. Now, with these Islands, people can live in peace and accomplish their dreams. As the king, I will protect my people at all costs and cherish their wishes and dreams."
He paused; his voice tinged with sadness. "I never got the chance to accomplish mine."
Emily looked at him with understanding. "I would think being a respectable and admirable king would be a dream for anyone."
"It would be," Ronan agreed. "But my mom and sisters are no longer here to see it. They always wanted our people to be free."
Emily's eyes softened at his words. "I also lost someone close to me. I always considered him like a father."
King Ronan's expression grew thoughtful, and he squinted at her words, curiosity evident in his gaze. "Was he a magic user?" he asked, his tone neutral and unreadable.
"I don't know," Emily answered honestly, her gaze fixed on the window. "He died in my village, an explosion on a boat."
Ronan's lips curled into a subtle smirk, his eyes narrowing as he processed her words. "This is why I need your help," he said, carefully masking his smirk, his voice shifting to a more serious tone.
"Your powers will finally give every magic user a chance to live in peace," King Ronan said, his voice filled with a sense of hope.
Emily's mind drifted back to Tauris and Lunaria, memories of withering crops, destruction, and the disappearance of her Lord flooding her thoughts. The attack had come from these islands—or so she suspected. Doubts and mistrust brewed within her as she tried to piece together the bigger picture.
"Live in peace with the non-magic users too," Emily said firmly, her gaze meeting his.
Ronan's eyes sharpened at her words, causing Emily to flinch slightly. The intensity of his gaze startled her, a jolt of unease running through her. She quickly looked away, trying to steady her nerves as he cleared his throat and composed himself.
"Peace with them" Rona said his voice calm and gentle. "It's a noble ideal, but not always easy to achieve."
Emily's eyes flickered back to him, sensing a subtle shift in his demeanour. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity and concern.
Ronan's gaze grew distant, his expression clouded with a hint of dismay. "The non-magic users… they often view magic with suspicion and fear," he explained, his tone carrying an undertone of frustration.
His gaze moves back to the windows, staring out at the landscape below. "Many of our people have suffered because of this mistrust."
Emily sighed at his words; some truth hidden in it. "I see. It is a difficult task."
Ronan's eyes narrowed slightly, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial tone. "Indeed. But sometimes, the best way to ensure peace is to remove the sources of conflict entirely."
Emily's brow furrowed in fear. "What do you mean by that?"
Ronan's smile turned slightly colder, a shadow passing over his features. "When certain elements refuse to change or adapt, their presence can hinder progress. In such cases, it might be necessary to... eliminate the obstacles to achieve true harmony for our people."
Emily's eyes widened as the gravity of his statement sank in. "So, you mean…"
"You want to kill them all," Emily said, her voice rising with anger as she stood tall, her eyes locked onto his with a piercing gaze.
Ronan shrugged; his demeanour almost indifferent. "They did try to kill us too."
"Ending their lives will only cause more harm. History will just repeat itself," Emily said, her voice trembling with frustration.
"History won't repeat itself," Ronan insisted, his eyes narrowing. "I will make sure they don't have the chance to cause any more trouble. You know, with each of them being eliminated, we ensure that their influence is wiped out entirely."
Emily shook her head, her voice trembling with resolve. "No. You're just initiating a cycle of pain and hatred. This violence will only breed more conflict and suffering for years to come. If you keep using violence, you'll only make things worse."
Ronan's expression hardened; his frustration palpable as he listened to her words.
"You can't guarantee that you'll eliminate them all. They will hide, just as we did, and history will repeat itself—a never-ending cycle of violence." Emily voiced; her hands placed on her chest.
"You don't understand," Emily pleaded. "You have to—"
"You don't know what's best for my people!" Ronan cut her off sharply, his hands clenched in anger and frustration. His gaze was intense, filled with a fierce determination.
Emily flinched at his gaze, taking a step back in fear. She looked up at him, her heart racing as she noticed his eyes darkening to an inky black, as deep and endless as the midnight sky. The sight was unsettling, and her breath caught in her throat.
"Ronan?"
King Ronan blinked at the voice, and the darkness in his eyes receded, returning to his usual black pupils. He quickly shifted his gaze toward the door, where Trevon stood, his expression a mix of reasoned concern and curiosity.
Emily's eyes followed Ronan's, her heart pounding as she saw Trevon's concerned gaze fixed on her. Trevon's eyes scanned her trembling form, his concern deepening as he took in her fearful state.
"Emily, how are you doing today?" Trevon asked, his voice gentle but filled with an underlying urgency as he moved towards her.
As Trevon reached out to take her hand, Emily flinched away, her body instinctively retreating from the two men. Her eyes were brimming with tears, and fear was evident in every movement as she backed away slowly.
"Emily?" Trevon called out, shocked and troubled by her reaction. Before he could reach her, Emily turned and fled from the room, leaving the two men behind.
"Hm, too bad I guess," Ronan shrugged nonchalantly, watching Emily's retreating form with a hint of indifference.
"What the hell happened, Ronan?" Trevon demanded, his voice a mixture of frustration and concern. "Why was she shaking like that?"
Ronan's demeanour remained calm. "She didn't agree with my plan for peace, and I might have snapped a bit."
Trevon's eyes widened. "I thought we weren't supposed to tell her about that yet. Of course, she'd react badly if you just laid it all out there."
Ronan's expression hardened slightly. "She needs to know about my plan. Her powers are crucial to it. She's meant to send a message."
Trevon sighed. "I understand she needs to be informed, but you should have introduced the concept gradually. Throwing everything at her all at once was bound to provoke a strong reaction."
Ronan's gaze softened slightly, though his resolve remained firm. "Perhaps. But time is not on our side, and the sooner she understands her role, the better."
Trevon's gaze remained fixed on the door through which Emily had fled, his mind clearly preoccupied with concern. Ronan's question cut through his thoughts, drawing his attention back.
"You seem to like her?" Ronan's tone was casual, but there was a hint of intrigue in his voice. "Emily, I mean. Does that have to do with your friend Lucas?"
Trevon's initial confusion quickly turned into a guarded expression. He hesitated before responding, his eyes narrowing. "Lucas is not my friend. That was a long time ago, back when we were kids. My concern for Emily is separate from that."
Ronan's gaze remained fixed on Trevon, a teasing glint in his eyes. "I'll try to lay off her a bit, since you seem to care so much, Trevon."
Trevon rolled his eyes in annoyance, clearly irked by Ronan's insinuation. "I'll go talk to her," he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument.
As Trevon made his way to the door, he paused briefly, glancing back at Ronan. "I hope you understand that if you push her too hard, you risk pushing her away entirely. We need her to be an ally, not a frightened enemy."
Ronan's expression remained unreadable, but he gave a slight nod. "Understood. I'll keep that in mind."
✨🌙✨
Trevon stood in front of Emily's door, knocking gently. When he received no response, he knocked again, with the same result. Growing more concerned, he called out, "Emily, please, can I come in?" Still, there was no answer.
Worried, Trevon opened the door swiftly and peered into the room. His eyes found Emily seated at the table, her head resting on its surface as she slept softly. Trevon felt a wave of relief wash over him. He approached her quietly, careful not to disturb her.
As he neared, his gaze fell upon the table, and his eyes widened at what he saw. Scattered before him was a piece of paper covered in drawings and words. The drawing depicted a black moon surrounded by shadowy figures, and the paper was littered with words and sentences.
Trevon sat carefully on the edge of Emily's bed, holding the paper as he gazed at the drawings and words scattered across it. Trevon's lips curled into a warm smile, reflecting a mix of relief and hope.
"Did she see this in her dream?" he whispered to himself, trying to piece together the connection between Emily's artwork. His soft muttering continued, "Seems she may be aware of what this means."
Trevon's gaze fell upon the drawing of the black moon, and he gently traced the outline with his fingers. "The new moon," he murmured, the realization settling in. "She's going to do great."
With a sense of quiet determination, Trevon carefully placed the paper back on her table. He then moved closer to Emily, gently lifting her from her seat and cradling her in his arms as he laid her down on the bed. He pulled the blankets over her, tucking her in with a tender touch.
"Sleep well," Trevon whispered, his voice soft and filled with care. He lingered for a moment, ensuring she was comfortable, before quietly walking out of the room and closing the door gently behind him.