Queen Nyssa jolted upright in bed, her breath shallow and her chest heaving. The shadows of her dimly lit chamber swirled around her like phantoms, stirred by the dying embers of the hearth. The storm outside raged, rain battering the windows and lightning flashing across the mist-shrouded landscape of Ebonwind. She pressed a hand to her forehead, her pulse pounding in her ears, and closed her eyes, trying to steady herself.
It was the same dream again. The one that haunted her for years—vague, shifting, but always the same in its core message. A memory long buried had resurfaced, tugging at her, pulling her back into a time she wished to forget.
She had been a teenager then, not yet a queen, not even aware of her potential. She had been wandering the dense, enchanted forests of Ebonwind with reckless curiosity. Her youthful ambition had driven her to seek out the secrets of the land, and in doing so, she had stumbled into something far darker than she had anticipated.
The dream began to sharpen in her mind as she leaned back against the cushions of her bed, her thoughts drifting back to that fateful day.
---
The moon hung high in the sky, veiled by thick clouds that cast an eerie glow over the forest. The trees towered like ancient sentinels, their gnarled branches twisting into shapes that seemed almost alive. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and moss, and every rustle of leaves seemed to carry the promise of something lurking just beyond sight.
Nyssa's heart raced as she darted through the underbrush, her bare feet slipping on the wet ground. She had been out gathering herbs, but now her basket lay abandoned behind her, lost somewhere in the depths of the woods. Fear clawed at her chest, each breath coming in ragged gasps as she heard footsteps behind her-heavy, deliberate, and getting closer.
She stumbled, her knees hitting the ground with a painful thud. A curse escaped her lips, but she didn't stop. Scrambling to her feet, Nyssa pushed through the thick foliage, her fingers brushing against the rough bark of trees as she tried to find her way. The forest, usually so familiar to her, now felt like a labyrinth of shadows.
Then, suddenly, the footsteps stopped.
Nyssa paused, her breath caught in her throat. The silence was more terrifying than the sound of pursuit. She stood still, her eyes scanning the darkness, her heart hammering in her chest.
A soft, almost melodic voice drifted from behind her. "Running will only make this more difficult, girl."
She spun around, her eyes widening as she saw him-a young mage, his cruel eyes gleaming with hunger. His robes were dark, blending into the shadows of the forest, but his presence was anything but hidden. His face twisted into a mocking grin, his fingers flexing as though testing the very air for power.
"Stay away from me!" Nyssa shouted, taking a step back. Her voice trembled, but she forced herself to sound strong. She had heard the stories-mages who wandered the woods, preying on those foolish enough to be alone. She had never thought herself the kind of prey they would hunt.
The mage chuckled, a sound that sent a shiver down her spine. "Such fire in you. But there's no need to be afraid. I could teach you so much... show you things beyond your wildest dreams." He stepped closer, his eyes roaming over her with a dark intent. "You've caught my eye, little one. Don't you want to know what true power feels like?"
Nyssa backed away, her hands trembling at her sides. "I don't need anything from you," she spat, her voice laced with defiance.
But the mage's grin only widened. "Oh, you will," he whispered, his voice thick with menace. "Before the night is through, you will beg for my mercy."
With a flick of his wrist, the air around them seemed to grow heavier, the forest itself responding to his dark magic. The leaves rustled with an unnatural wind, and the trees seemed to bend towards him, as if bowing to his will. A strange, cold energy crackled in the air, making the hairs on the back of Nyssa's neck stand on end.
She turned and ran, her heart pounding in her ears. But the mage was faster. She barely made it a few steps before he appeared in front of her, his hand shooting out to grab her wrist. His grip was like iron, cold and unyielding.
Nyssa cried out, struggling to pull free, but he yanked her closer, his breath hot against her ear. "You can't escape me. No one ever does."
With a sudden burst of fury, Nyssa twisted in his grip, her free hand clawing at his face. Her nails raked across his skin, leaving red streaks in their wake. The mage recoiled with a snarl, his hand loosening just enough for her to slip free.
She didn't hesitate. Grabbing a nearby stick, she swung it at him with all the strength she could muster. The blow caught him across the chest, sending him stumbling back. But his eyes, once filled with cruel amusement, now blazed with fury.
"You dare strike me?" he hissed, his voice dripping with venom.
Nyssa's chest heaved as she glared at him, the stick still clutched tightly in her hands. "Stay away from me," she repeated, but this time there was more resolve in her voice.
The mage's lips curled into a sneer. "You'll regret that, girl."
With a flick of his hand, the stick in her hand exploded into splinters, sending her stumbling back. Nyssa fell to the ground, her body shaking as she tried to crawl away. The forest seemed to close in around her, the once familiar woods now a nightmarish landscape of shadows and twisted branches.
The mage loomed over her, his eyes glowing with dark energy. "You should have been grateful for my attention," he growled, grabbing her by the hair and yanking her to her feet. "Now, you'll pay the price."
His hand began to glow with a sickly green light, and Nyssa felt her body seize with terror. She had heard stories of magic like this-dark, corrupting, dangerous. She kicked at him, desperation taking over as she tried to free herself, but his grip was unrelenting.
Just as his other hand reached for her throat, Nyssa acted on pure instinct. Her hand shot to her belt, where a small dagger was hidden. With a wild scream, she drove the blade into his side.
The mage gasped, his eyes widening in shock as blood spilled from the wound. He staggered back, releasing her as he clutched at his side. But Nyssa wasn't done. Fueled by fear and fury, she lunged at him again, slashing at him with the dagger.
The blade found its mark, cutting deep into the flesh of his groin. The mage screamed, a horrible, guttural sound that echoed through the trees. He fell to his knees, his hands clutching at the wound as blood poured between his fingers.
Nyssa stood over him, her breath ragged, the dagger still clutched in her trembling hand. Her mind raced, the adrenaline coursing through her veins as she watched the mage writhe in agony.
"You... you bitch..." he spat, his voice weak and trembling. "You'll pay for this... I'll make sure of it."
His hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of dirt. With his last strength, he muttered words in a language Nyssa didn't understand, his voice dripping with venom and hatred. The air around them grew colder, and the forest seemed to hold its breath.
The mage let out a guttural laugh, more a growl than a sound of pain. "You think you've won, girl?" he spat, his voice dripping with venom. His hands twitched, and despite his injuries, he managed to drag himself up to his knees. "There are worse things than death, far worse."
Nyssa stepped back, wary of the sudden shift in his demeanor. The forest around them seemed to grow darker, the shadows stretching and curling like the claws of unseen creatures. The wind died down, replaced by an eerie silence.
"You'll regret this," the mage hissed, his eyes burning with a wicked glow. "But you won't understand until it's too late."
He raised one trembling hand, blood still pouring from his wound. His fingers twitched in the air as if weaving invisible threads, the darkness swirling around him like smoke. His voice turned low and rhythmic, as though the very words were enchanted.
"A son born of blood, to blood he'll return.
The crown of shadows will twist and burn.
A mother's love—shattered by fate,
What she desires, death will create."
Nyssa's brow furrowed, her heart pounding in confusion. "What are you talking about?" she demanded, taking another step back. The mage's voice grew more insistent, each word laced with venomous intent.
"When the forest blooms red with the moon's embrace,
Your darkest secret will take its place.
Beware the heir you seek to claim,
For it is his hands that will end your reign."
Nyssa's grip on the knife faltered. The riddles washed over her like a chill, leaving her unsettled but still grasping for meaning. "What... what does that mean?"
The mage's lips curled into a cruel smile. "You'll understand, one day. When your power reaches its peak, it will be the one closest to you who destroys everything you hold dear."
Nyssa shook her head, stepping back as the forest itself seemed to tighten around her. "You're mad," she hissed, but the mage only laughed again, the sound echoing through the trees.
"I may be," he rasped, blood seeping through his fingers, "but you'll see, girl. You'll see." he whispered, his eyes burning with one last spark of malevolent glee before they dulled, his body slumping to the ground.
Nyssa stood there, trembling, his cryptic words still echoing in her mind, sinking deeper into her thoughts like a venomous root.
The forest was silent now, save for the soft rustle of leaves in the wind. Nyssa looked down at the mage's body, the dagger still dripping with his blood, and felt the weight of the curse settle over her like a dark cloud.
She didn't understand the riddle, but she knew one thing: the mage's words were not idle threats. The darkness had taken root in her life that night, and though she couldn't yet see it, the path ahead was already set.
---
That dream.
It had come again, as it so often did. The forest, the mage, the riddles she still couldn't decipher. Even now, after all these years, the memory of that day haunted her like a ghost refusing to rest. Nyssa wiped a trembling hand across her forehead, brushing away the beads of sweat. Her mouth was dry, and a faint tremor ran through her fingers.
She knew it had been a curse. From the moment the mage had fallen, his cryptic words lingering in the air, she had felt it in her bones. But the meaning still escaped her. What had he meant by those riddles? A son born of blood... shattered love... the crown of shadows. She had tried countless times to piece it together, but the harder she tried, the more elusive it became. And yet, the fear, the unease, never left her. It gnawed at her soul like a beast in the shadows, waiting for the moment to strike.
Nyssa's breath came slower now, but her body remained tense, her muscles tight with the remnants of that all-too-real dream. She ran a hand through her hair, damp with sweat, and closed her eyes for a moment. The forest had felt so vivid—its wildness, the twisted branches, the oppressive darkness that seemed to close in around her, choking her with its weight. She could still hear the mage's laughter, see the twisted smile on his face as he uttered those riddles, knowing she couldn't understand them.
The dream always ended the same way: with her standing over him, helpless against the words he had woven. It was a memory, a memory that had carved itself so deep into her mind that it now ruled her sleep. And each time, she awoke in the same state—shaken, disoriented, and fearful, as if the curse still hovered over her like a sword waiting to drop.
Nyssa knew the curse was real, but what it meant, when it would reveal itself, still lay beyond her reach. She feared it more than she would ever admit, even to herself. The dream hunted her, like a predator stalking its prey.
To Be Continued...