The fire crackled softly in the hearth of Elara's small cottage as she sat at her wooden table, sorting through the day's gathered herbs.
The rhythmic motion of her fingers rolling dried leaves between her palms usually brought her peace, but tonight, her mind wandered.
That figure she had seen earlier—tall, shadowy—still haunted her thoughts. It felt more like a premonition than a passing trick of the eye.She tried to push the image away, focusing on the task at hand, when suddenly there was a sharp knock at the door.
Elara froze, her pulse quickening. Visitors were rare at this time of night, and an unshakable sense of dread washed over her.Another knock, more urgent this time.
Rising from her chair, she moved cautiously to the door and opened it just enough to see who stood on the other side.
A man—hunched, cloaked in a ragged black robe—stood before her, his face hidden beneath a deep hood. His presence was unnerving, and though she couldn't see his eyes, she felt their weight on her, cold and heavy.
"Elara, the healer?" His voice was low, rasping like dry leaves scraping across stone. She hesitated before nodding.
"I am. Who are you?"The man's gloved hand extended from beneath his cloak, holding out a small leather pouch.
"Payment," he said simply.
"For what?"
"Information."Elara's eyes narrowed, and she reached out to take the pouch, feeling its weight in her hand. It was heavier than she expected, the clink of coins inside undeniable. She should have shut the door right then—sent him away and retreated to the safety of her home—but something held her there, curiosity perhaps, or something darker.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice steady despite the growing unease in her chest.
The man lowered his hood, revealing a weathered face with sharp, angular features. His eyes, sunken and dark, glinted with a strange intensity as he spoke.
"The curse... it spreads."Her breath caught in her throat. She had heard the rumors, of course—everyone had—but to hear it spoken with such certainty...
"Go on," she said, her voice barely above a whisper."The sickness in your village," he continued, "it is no mere illness. It is the beginning of the curse's reach. You feel it, do you not? The shadow that looms over this place. It draws nearer every day."
Elara's heart pounded in her chest. The illness, the unnatural quiet in the forest, the figure she had seen earlier—it all began to fall into place. The curse. The stories she had dismissed as superstition. Could they be real?
"And what do you know of this curse?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm.The man leaned in closer, his breath cold against her skin.
"I come from the outskirts of the cursed kingdom, a place where the darkness first took root. The prince... the one they call Silas... he is searching for something—someone—to break the curse. And you, Elara, you are the one he seeks."Her blood ran cold.
"Me?" she whispered.The man nodded, his eyes gleaming with a strange light.
"Your power, your connection to the earth... it is stronger than you know. The prince believes you are the key to saving his kingdom, to lifting the curse that binds him. But beware, healer—his heart is as cold as the shadows that surround him. He will stop at nothing to have you."
Elara stepped back, her mind racing. This couldn't be happening. She was just a healer, a village girl with a simple life. But deep down, a part of her had always known she was different.
The way the earth responded to her touch, the way she could sense things others couldn't—it had always felt like more than just healing.
Still, the thought of being hunted by a cursed prince sent a chill down her spine."What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice barely concealing her fear.The man smiled, though there was no warmth in it.
"Only to warn you. The prince's men are close. They will come for you soon."
Without another word, he turned and vanished into the night, leaving Elara standing in the doorway, her mind swirling with fear and uncertainty.
She bolted the door behind her, her hands trembling as she backed away from the entrance. Her cottage, usually a haven of peace, now felt stifling, the walls closing in around her. She couldn't stay here. Not if what the man said was true.
She crossed the room to her small worktable, her hands shaking as she packed her satchel with herbs, supplies, and anything she might need if she had to leave in a hurry. Her heart raced as she tried to think clearly.
The cursed prince—Silas—was coming for her. What could he possibly want with her power?And yet, even as fear gripped her, another feeling stirred within her.
A spark of curiosity, of something unspoken that called to her, deep within her chest. The shadows, the curse, the prince—she could feel them all pulling her toward something larger than herself.
But for now, there was only one certainty: she had to be ready.
The wind howled outside, rattling the windows as Elara stood frozen in the middle of her cottage, staring at the door, waiting for the inevitable.The darkness had come. And it was coming for her.