The days following the battle were a blur of pain and darkness for Sam. He lay unconscious in a secluded room within the royal palace, far from the prying eyes of the academy and the public. Only a select few knew of the events that had transpired, and those who did were bound by secrecy—sworn to protect the truth of what had occurred.
In the quiet of the palace, Queen Eleanor stood by Sam's bedside, her expression a mix of concern and deep contemplation. The healers had done everything they could to mend his physical wounds, but Sam remained senseless, his body still and unresponsive. The queen couldn't shake the image of the dark power that had surged through him, a force so terrifying that it had turned the tide of battle in an instant.
Only she, her son Luke, and a few others knew the full extent of what had happened that day. The queen had made a swift decision to keep the details of the battle, and the power Sam had unleashed, a closely guarded secret. She had informed the king, who agreed that this was a matter too dangerous to share openly. Even within the palace, the true story was known only to those who had witnessed it firsthand—herself, Luke, Masha, and Sara.
Eleanor sighed, her gaze softening as she looked down at Sam. She had seen many things in her life, but nothing like this. The power within him was unlike anything she had encountered, and it frightened her. But it also intrigued her. What was this dark force? And why had it chosen Sam as its vessel?
A soft knock at the door drew her from her thoughts. Masha entered the room, her usual brightness dimmed by the weight of recent events. She approached the queen with a respectful bow before turning her attention to Sam.
"How is he?" Masha asked quietly, her voice laced with worry.
"There's been no change," Eleanor replied, her tone somber. "The healers say his body is recovering, but his mind… It's as if he's lost in some dark place, unable to find his way back."
Masha bit her lip, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. She had known Sam for only a short time, but he had already become someone she cared for deeply. Seeing him like this, so vulnerable and broken, was almost unbearable.
Sara entered the room next, her face a mask of calm that barely hid the turmoil beneath. She moved to Sam's side, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "He's strong," she said, more to herself than to anyone else. "He'll come back to us. He has to."
The queen nodded, though her heart was heavy with doubt. "We must keep this to ourselves," she said, her voice firm. "If word of this power spreads, it could bring more danger to Sam—and to all of us. Until we understand what we're dealing with, this must remain a secret."
Masha and Sara both nodded in agreement. They understood the gravity of the situation, and they were determined to protect Sam, no matter what it took.
Meanwhile, in a distant part of the palace, the king sat in his private study, his expression grave as he reviewed the reports from his spies. The attack on his wife and son had been no random act of violence—it was part of something much larger, something sinister that was moving in the shadows. The Shade Society had long been a whispered threat, a dark legend that few believed to be real. But now, it seemed those whispers were becoming reality.
The king clenched his fists, a deep sense of foreboding settling in his chest. He knew he needed to act, but he was also aware that any wrong move could endanger not only his family but the entire kingdom. He needed more information, and he needed it quickly.
As he sat in thought, a knock at the door interrupted his musings. It was his most trusted advisor, a man who had served the royal family for decades.
"Your Majesty," the advisor said, bowing deeply. "I have news."
The king motioned for him to continue, his eyes sharp with focus.
"There have been… disturbances," the advisor began cautiously. "In the northern regions, our scouts have reported strange activity—disappearances, sightings of unfamiliar figures, and whispers of an underground movement. It seems the Shade Society may be mobilizing."
The king's heart sank. The signs were all there, pointing to an imminent threat. "What of our defenses?" he asked, his voice steady despite the anxiety gnawing at him.
"We are strengthening them as we speak," the advisor replied. "But if the Shade Society is truly behind this, we may need more than just our armies. We will need allies—strong ones."
The king nodded, already considering the possibilities. "And what of Sam? Have the healers made any progress?"
The advisor hesitated before answering. "The boy's condition remains unchanged, Your Majesty. The queen has placed him under the care of her personal healers, but… it seems his injuries are more than just physical. There's something else at play—something we don't yet understand."
The king exhaled slowly, his mind racing with thoughts and plans. "Keep me informed of any developments," he instructed. "And prepare for a council meeting. We need to discuss our next steps—discreetly."
The advisor bowed and left the room, leaving the king alone with his thoughts. He stared out the window, the weight of his responsibilities pressing heavily on his shoulders. He knew that whatever was coming, it would be unlike anything they had faced before.
And at the center of it all was Sam, a boy with a power that could either save them—or doom them all.
Back in Sam's room, Masha and Sara took turns watching over him, their hearts heavy with worry. They spoke little, each lost in their thoughts, trying to make sense of what had happened. The days passed slowly, marked only by the soft sounds of the palace and the occasional visit from the queen.
It wasn't until the fourth day that something changed. As the morning sun filtered through the curtains, Sam stirred, a faint groan escaping his lips. Masha, who had been sitting beside him, gasped and leaned closer.
"Sam?" she whispered, hope blossoming in her chest.
Sam's eyes fluttered open, unfocused and heavy with exhaustion. He blinked several times before his gaze settled on Masha, confusion and pain etched across his features.
"Masha…" he murmured, his voice weak and hoarse.
She smiled, tears welling up in her eyes. "You're awake…"
But before she could say more, Sam's eyes slid shut again, and he fell back into unconsciousness. Still, it was a sign—a small one, but enough to give them hope that he would eventually return to them.
As Masha watched over him, she couldn't shake the feeling that whatever had happened to Sam during the battle had changed him in ways they couldn't yet comprehend. And as much as she wanted to protect him, she knew that the darkness he had faced wasn't gone—it was merely waiting, biding its time.
And when it returned, they would have to be ready.