The gloomy castle loomed silently against the dimly lit sky, its dark windows reflecting the twilight with an eerie stillness. Inside, the corridors were cloaked in shadows, their opulence contrasting sharply with the turmoil and tension that simmered beneath the surface.
Ravenor Frostveil sat behind a massive oak desk in his private study, the room illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight. Papers and ancient tomes were scattered across the desk, and the air was thick with the scent of ink and parchment. Ravenor's eyes were fixed on a map sprawled before him, his fingers tracing the borders of various territories. His brow was furrowed in concentration, and a faint tension gripped his features.
From the past few months, Ravenor had been deeply engrossed in matters of politics and strategy as he had been starting to snap out of his very long hiatus.
He had some very private matters to tackle, reigns to ruin, a world to claim!
Dark forces had been stirring in the region, and he believed that the attacks on nearby villages were part of a larger, more sinister scheme, something that threatened to dig the buried secrets of some long forgotten prophecy. As he reviewed reports and considered his next plans, the intrusion of a new element into his domain, the refugee, was a distraction he could ill afford.
The moment he had laid eyes on her, he could easily tell the matter wasn't as simple. The locket she kept clenching on for dear life, he felt like he had seen that somewhere before but where?
In the guest chamber, Elara sat alone, her sore shoulders heavy with grief and despair. The room was luxuriously furnished, but its comfort was lost on her. She stared blankly at the locket her mother had given her. It was a small moon which was entrapped beneath a black cage-like holder. With its small size, it fit perfectly in her small palm.
She had seen her mother wearing a similar necklace ever since she gained consciousness of her surroundings. As per her mother, it was a gift from her husband when Elara was born. They were a small, happy family with Elara being their only child.
She had heard stories of how her ancestors, the Moon Wardens once possessed powers of the moon. But a curse devoid them of their powers and forced them to flee to safety. They settled on this land and grew their tribe, claiming the settlement as their own with no extrenal intrusion ever granted. They never had any visitors nor did any of them ever leave the village. They grew their own farms and gardens, built their own little lives, harvesting and harbouring everything they needed with their own hands.
Only for it to be demolished overnight...
She was just about to celebrate her twentieth birthday and her parents had promised her a surprise gift.
It took only a night to end everything she ever had...
Maybe this necklace was her gift? Taking a deep breath, she slipped it above her head and surprisingly, it passed through with ease as if it was made to fit the size of her head.
As the locket landed above her delicate neck, the memories of the attack came rushing back to her. The thoughts of the final moments with her parents made her nauseous even though she hadn't eaten a thing. The edibles Lady Seraphine brought for her laid there untouched except the water.
She has to go back to the village and look for them as soon as the sun rises.
She rose from the chair and moved to the window, hoping to find some solace in the cool wind. The sky, though beautiful, was yet another cruel reminder of her shattered life. She could see the forest beyond the palace grounds, a dark expanse that had once been her home. These new sounds of the forest and birds were distant and unfamiliar, and she felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness.
If her village was demolished and burned, that meant only one thing; She doesn't have a place to call home anymore.
Back in the study, Ravenor continued his work, the map before him a tangled mess of alliances and conflicts. His attention was divided between the immediate threats and the broader political landscape. He knew that these dark forces threatening the realm of outcasts were not to be underestimated.
Ravenor's mind however kept wandering to the mysterious girl he had admitted into his palace. Her arrival was another complication to the matters, but he couldn't deny a certain curiosity about her. He couldn't shake the feeling that her presence might be linked to something deeper, something that transcended mere happenstance.
There was something about her which he would need to investigate further.
While the night wore on, Ravenor's study was filled with the rustling of papers and the occasional clink of a glass as he sipped his drink, deep in thought. This castle itself was a world unto itself, with its own hidden dangers and secrets. The last thing he needed on his hand was a stranger's intrusion into those secrets. His secrets.
As the clock struck midnight, a shadowy figure moved silently through the corridors of the castle, pausing near the guest chamber. It was hard to make out if there was a presence under the cloak or if it was mere darkess beneath.
The castle's secrets were beginning to stir, and Elara was at the center of a growing storm.
She thought she was safe but bigger trouble awaits...