The air in Lunaris was abuzz with a frantic energy. Panic was spreading through the courtyards and halls of the Federation like wildfire, the whispers of rebellion amplified by Morganna's crafty illusions. As she stepped through the elegant archways of the Lunaris court, the expressions on the faces of nobles and guards alike twisted into portraits of doubt and suspicion. Lunaris, a kingdom that had prided itself on the balance of chaos and harmony, was now cracking under Morganna's calculated manipulations.
At the heart of the palace, in a lavish meeting chamber decorated with glistening sapphire tiles and celestial murals, sat the three Princes of Lunaris—Cassius, Thorne, and Draven—each vying for the throne, though now their unity was shattered. Morganna smirked from behind a curtain as she watched the trio argue, her fingers gently weaving the threads of illusion, accentuating the look of distrust in each of their eyes.
"You think I haven't noticed, brother?" Cassius snarled, his hands balled into fists, slamming the polished marble table. "You've been colluding with outsiders—conspiring to weaken my claim!"
Thorne, the youngest of the three, sneered. "As if I'd need to weaken anything. Your claim is built on nothing but arrogance and empty promises." He leaned back in his seat, his eyes glancing furtively towards Draven. "And you, brother, don't think I haven't seen you meeting with those mages in the shadows."
Draven remained silent, his eyes narrowing as they shifted between his brothers. Morganna admired the way suspicion was festering between them, like an infection slowly poisoning the body. She stepped forward from the shadows, her crimson dress rustling softly as she did.
"Gentlemen," she cooed, her voice like silk dipped in venom. "It seems tensions are running high. Perhaps a... mediation is in order." Her golden eyes gleamed as the princes all turned their gaze to her, each one desperate to believe she could solve their problems.
Draven stood first, his eyes betraying the fear he hid beneath a cold façade. "Morganna, if you can ensure that I ascend to the throne, I promise you riches beyond measure," he offered, his voice calm but desperate. He was playing into her hands perfectly, just as she had anticipated.
Cassius scowled at Draven's words. "Riches? You think the Crimson Witch cares for gold, Draven?" He stepped toward Morganna, his pride refusing to yield. "No, Morganna... if you assist me, I will give you something far more valuable—power. The resources of Lunaris at your command, to do as you wish."
Morganna smiled inwardly. Cassius had no idea that she desired something far greater than mundane power—she wanted chaos, betrayal, suffering, and the sweet satisfaction of seeing these fools devour each other whole. As she turned her gaze toward Thorne, she could see the conflict in his eyes. He was suspicious, but also desperate to be the one to win her favor. Each brother, entirely oblivious to how she had orchestrated their discord, was now pleading for her allegiance.
She let out a sigh—a sound that echoed with mock disappointment. "All such generous offers," she began, glancing at each prince in turn. "But you see, only one of you can rule." Her voice grew softer, like a whisper carried by the wind. "And only one of you truly understands the price required for loyalty."
Thorne swallowed nervously, sensing something darker in her words. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice betraying his unease.
Morganna stepped closer to Thorne, her lips curling into a malicious smile. "I mean, Thorne... that loyalty must be bought in blood. Are you willing to pay that price?"
The youngest prince's eyes widened, and he took a step back. Morganna let her gaze fall to Cassius, and then to Draven, seeing the shadows of hesitation in their expressions. It was almost too easy.
"Weak," she whispered under her breath. "All of you." She raised her hand, the air around her fingers crackling with chaotic energy. The vibrant hues of her magic turned dark, a maelstrom of twisting purple and red. Before the princes could react, she released it into the air. It shot forward, wrapping around them like serpents.
Their screams filled the chamber, blending with the sound of shattering glass and crackling power. Morganna's laughter joined the cacophony, her golden eyes alight with unrestrained malice. She watched as each prince crumbled under the onslaught—Draven clutching at his throat as an illusion of betrayal consumed his mind, Thorne falling to his knees, sobbing at the ghosts she conjured, and Cassius struggling against invisible binds as his deepest fears took form before his eyes.
"You could never hope to rule, not when you are so easily broken," Morganna purred, stepping closer to Draven. She leaned in, her lips inches from his ear, her voice dripping with contempt. "I will make sure your people remember what it means to choose weak rulers."
With a flick of her wrist, she released the chaos, leaving the princes gasping, trembling on the ground. They were broken—their unity shattered, their trust in each other irreparable. And Morganna had claimed her prize: their loyalty through their fear.
As she turned to leave, the guards at the chamber door hesitated, unsure whether to move against her or flee. She cast them a sly smile, her eyes glinting with cruel delight. "Do tell your people that the Crimson Witch has offered her... guidance," she said mockingly, her laughter echoing down the grand halls as she exited.
Lucian, who had been waiting outside, glanced at her with a mix of awe and reluctant horror. "That went well, I presume," he said dryly, his voice laced with caution. He knew better than to question her methods.
Morganna smirked, her gaze locked on the darkening skies above the palace. "Oh, it went splendidly," she replied, her voice filled with amusement. "Lunaris is almost ripe for the taking. The seeds of chaos have been sown. Now, we wait for them to blossom."
Lucian shook his head, an uneasy expression crossing his features. "And when they do?"
Morganna's smile widened, her golden eyes alight with an almost unholy fire. "When they do, Lucian... we shall harvest despair."
Together, they walked down the moonlit path, leaving the palace in turmoil behind them. The cries of the broken princes still echoed faintly in the night air, and Morganna found the melody to be utterly beautiful—a symphony of chaos that was only just beginning.