Inside the grand Mahargical Palace, the Archbishop and the King conversed in a large, opulent room. The air was thick with tension, yet their faces were alight with satisfaction, knowing the chaos they were about to unleash. Their combined forces were ready to invade Eldoria.
"The time has come," the Archbishop intoned, his voice serious but with a sly smile playing on his lips.
The King let out a hearty laugh, so vigorous that his wig nearly toppled off. He caught it just in time, adjusting it with a chuckle.
"The child will be ours," he declared with grim determination.
Meanwhile, in Eldoria, the druids remained unaware of the storm brewing on their borders. To them, it was just another ordinary day. The scent of pine and wildflowers filled the enchanted forest. Sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a glow on the forest floor.
Helene hummed softly as she prepared dinner in their small kitchen, her hands moving deftly as she chopped vegetables for Castiel's favorite dish.
"He'll be starving after a whole day of training," she murmured to herself, a fond smile on her lips.
Outside, Arthur was busy chopping firewood, his axe slicing through the air with rhythmic precision. The serenity of the forest surrounded him, the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves adding to the peaceful ambiance.
"Hey, Arthur, how are you?" came a familiar voice, approaching with a friendly tone.
"Everything's fine..." Arthur began, turning to greet the visitor. But the words caught in his throat as a sharp pain erupted in his stomach. He looked down in shock to see a dagger buried deep in his flesh. The attack had been so swift, so unexpected, that he hadn't even had time to react.
Before he could process what was happening, the dagger was wrenched free, only to plunge into him again and again. Arthur's strength drained away with each blow, his legs buckling beneath him as he fell to the ground.
As he lay there, the life ebbing from his body, he watched in horror as the figure who had attacked him walked calmly toward the house. Blood trickled from Arthur's mouth, his vision blurring as he fought to stay conscious.
"He...lene..." he gasped, his voice barely a whisper. Tears welled in his eyes, mingling with the blood as darkness claimed him.
Inside, Helene continued cooking, unaware of the tragedy unfolding just outside their home. The door creaked open behind her, and she turned, smiling as she recognized the visitor.
"Hey, Eldrin, what brings you here? Do you need something?" she asked, her tone warm and welcoming.
But Eldrin did not respond. He continued to approach her with a cold, distant gaze, his mocking smile growing wider.
Helene's smile faded as she noticed the blood on Eldrin's hands and the dagger still dripping with it. Her heart pounded with fear.
"Arthur!" she called out, her voice trembling. She took a step back, her hand tightening around the kitchen knife she had been using.
"Arthur!" she screamed again, her voice rising in panic. But there was no answer, only the oppressive silence of the forest outside.
"Eldrin, don't come any closer," she warned, trying to keep her voice steady. But Eldrin moved with terrifying speed, closing the distance between them in an instant.
Helene barely had time to raise the knife before he was upon her. The first stab took her breath away, the pain sharp and searing. She tried to fight back, but he was relentless, each blow more vicious than the last. Her body crumpled to the floor, her vision fading as the world around her darkened.
Outside, Arthur's survival instinct kicked in. Despite the excruciating pain, he forced himself to his feet, staggering toward the house. His only thought was to protect Helene, to stop this nightmare from consuming them both.
But he was too late. As he stumbled through the doorway, Eldrin was already there, waiting for him. With a twisted smile, he drove the dagger into Arthur once more, over and over, until Arthur's strength finally gave out. He collapsed onto the wooden floor, blood pooling around him as his consciousness slipped away.
Eldrin stood over the lifeless bodies of Arthur and Helene, a dark satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. He placed the bloodied dagger beside them, a cruel token of his betrayal. Then, with a low, menacing chuckle, he wiped his hands clean.
Eldrin took a deep breath, his face expressionless, and began to shift. His form melted away, replaced by the familiar visage of Thistlebranch. The transformation was seamless, and now, anyone who found the bodies would believe that Thistlebranch had committed the murders.
Satisfied with his deception, the newly disguised Thistlebranch sat down to wait for Castiel's return.
It wasn't long before the boy appeared on the path leading to the house, his eyes lighting up as Thistlebranch went out of their house.
"Hey, sir! How are you? I'm happy you visited!" Castiel called out, his innocent voice filled with joy.
But he only gave him a sinister smile before turning and disappearing into the forest, leaving Castiel to discover the horrors within the house on his own.
Once out of sight, Eldrin pulled out a talisman and sent a signal. In a distant encampment, Lucius, one of Archbishop Garcera's most trusted men, received the signal and nodded to his commanders.
Eldoria was once a haven open to all creatures and races, where anyone could freely come and go. However, in recent years, conflicts and the schemes of malevolent beings threatened its peace. To protect their sanctuary, the citizens of Eldoria decided to conceal it from outsiders.
The druids, wielding the power of illusion, cast a veil over Eldoria, rendering it invisible to all but those with permission. Confident in their magic, they saw no need for guards, believing their home impenetrable without consent.
Yet, a betrayal by one druid would soon unravel their sense of security, bringing forth an unforeseen challenge.
"It's time," Lucius said, his voice devoid of emotion. He raised his hand, and the combined forces of the Mahargical Kingdom and Sanctia Gratia began their march toward Eldoria.
Once they managed to enter, only then did the druids become alarmed; they had not anticipated such an event. However, they quickly prepared to block and stop the forces that had intruded.
"Let us through, or face death!" one of the enemy leaders bellowed, his expression fierce.
But the druids were unyielding, their magic swirling around them like a living barrier.
"You shall not pass!" one of the druids declared, his voice ringing with authority.
The battle began in a flurry of magic and steel. The invaders unleashed their spells with deadly precision, but the druids fought back with the raw power of nature, turning the very forest against their enemies. Trees came alive, roots lashed out like whips, and the ground itself heaved and bucked beneath the feet of the invaders.
The peaceful forest of Eldoria had transformed into a battleground, the air thick with the sounds of combat and the stench of blood.
Back in the heart of Eldoria, Queen Elara stood on a balcony overlooking the chaos below. Her heart ached for her people, but her mind was focused on the task at hand.
"Thistlebranch," she called, her voice heavy with sorrow. The druid appeared at her side, bowing low.
"My Queen," he responded, his tone solemn.
"You must take the boy away from here," Elara commanded. "To a place where our enemies cannot reach him. I entrust his safety to you."
Thistlebranch's eyes flickered with a brief moment of hesitation, but he quickly masked it. He bowed once more.
"I will, my Queen," he replied, his voice resolute. He turned and hurried away, his heart heavy with the weight of his mission.
Navigating the dense forest with ease, Thistlebranch made his way back to Castiel's home. But as he approached, his steps faltered. The once orderly home was now in ruins, the door hanging ajar, the inside dark and foreboding.
"Castiel!" he called out, his voice tinged with urgency.
There was a shuffling sound, and then, from the shadows, Castiel emerged. But something was different. The boy's eyes were hollow, his face twisted with grief and anger.
Without warning, Castiel lunged at Thistlebranch, a dagger clutched tightly in his small hand. The attack was so sudden, so fierce, that Thistlebranch barely had time to react before the blade sank into his side.
Thistlebranch's eyes widened in shock and pain as he collapsed to the ground. He looked up at Castiel, confusion and hurt evident in his gaze.
"W-what... have you done?" Thistlebranch's voice was weak, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
Castiel's face contorted with fury and grief.
"You killed them! You killed my parents, you monster!" He kicked Thistlebranch repeatedly, each strike fueled by his anguish.
Thistlebranch winced with each blow, his voice trembling. "W-why would I... kill them? I... loved them too..."
"Don't lie! I saw you leaving our house! You did this!" Castiel's voice broke, tears streaming down his face.
"I-I didn't... know..." Thistlebranch's words were cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps, heavy and urgent.
Despite the pain tearing through his body, Thistlebranch forced himself to stand, his determination outweighing his wounds. He knew he had to protect Castiel, no matter the cost.
With a final burst of strength, Thistlebranch turned to face the approaching foes, drawing on every ounce of his remaining power. The battle was fierce, but he was outnumbered, his injuries slowing him down. In the end, he fell, his body collapsing to the ground, his vision fading.
As the life ebbed from his body, Thistlebranch's last thoughts were of Queen Elara and the peaceful Eldoria that had been lost to the flames of war. He had done his duty, fought with every fiber of his being, but it hadn't been enough.
Eldoria, once a land of peace and joy, was now a battleground—a graveyard for the brave souls who had fallen in the war.