The smell of burning wood and roasting flesh clung to Arian's nostrils.
It wasn't the scent of royal incense, nor the roses that adorned the sunlit palaces, but the stench of death.
It clung to the gallows, the rough hemp rope a slow strangulation, not punishment, but a warning. The world turned, but the king's decree remained immutable.
The betrayal wasn't a mere accusation; it was an intricate web of deceit, a tapestry woven from hatred, ambition, and secrets hidden in the shadows of the court. Arian was a pawn, moved by unseen hands, pushed towards her doom without mercy. But she resisted.
Her tears weren't from fear, but rage.
A burning fury that reminded her she wasn't a mere puppet. She thought of Ilaria, her loyal friend, who sacrificed her life for her. She thought of revenge, but revenge wasn't merely killing; it was uncovering the truth. Exposing the traitors, revealing the secret that threatened the Sun Kingdom.
Time moved with agonizing slowness, each second an eternity.
The sun rose, then set, repeating its cycle. But Arian remained suspended, between life and death, between hope and vengeance. The crowd surrounded her, yet showed no sympathy. She was the traitor, or so they claimed.
But then, something unexpected happened. An unusual wind, cold and sharp, stirred the hair around her face, causing the rope to shift slightly. It wasn't an ordinary breeze, but a magical force. A dark power, yet not the magic of the Moon Kingdom.
The crowd fell silent. Then, a figure emerged. Not a heroic knight, but a shadow made flesh. Tall, powerful, cloaked in black that obscured his face. He made no noise, engaged in no fight; he simply stood there, present. A presence radiating terrifying mystery, a power capable of altering the course of events.
He didn't speak. He merely raised a hand, gesturing swiftly to the guards. The guards froze, mesmerized. They didn't resist. They didn't even try. There was something in that gesture, something deeper than fear. Something akin to acceptance.
The rope was cut. Arian fell, but she didn't die. She was taken away, far from the crowd, far from the Sun Kingdom. She didn't know where she was being taken, but she knew one thing: the betrayal wasn't her end, but a beginning.
The journey was long, shrouded in darkness. Arian wasn't questioned, nor tortured. Only walking, waiting, and the feeling that unseen forces controlled her destiny. Forces far deeper, far more mysterious, than the deception within the Sun Kingdom.
At the journey's end, Arian found herself in an ancient, dark manor, surrounded by ancient trees. It wasn't a Moon Kingdom palace, but something else, something more enigmatic. There, in the manor, someone awaited her.
It wasn't the Shadow Lord, but someone else, someone who resembled the shadows themselves. His face was hidden, his voice deep, but in his eyes, Arian saw a flicker of hope, a hint of truth. He was someone who knew everything, someone who could help her uncover the betrayal, exact her revenge.
But who was he? And what secret did he conceal? Arian would soon discover. But before that, she had to face the truth, the bitter truth that would change the course of the war between two kingdoms, and determine the fate of the world.
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