Elara sat stiffly, her gaze fixed on the woman across from her, every muscle in her body tense and ready for anything. Her mind raced, trying to assess the situation. If anything goes wrong, I'll have to escape. But she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that there was no escaping the strange power this woman wielded.
The woman's eyes gleamed behind her veil as she spoke, her voice calm, almost soothing—but there was an underlying sharpness that suggested she was not to be underestimated.
"You are mortal, as I can see," the woman began, her gaze fixed intently on Elara. "Let me welcome you to the greatest of all kingdoms, the Kingdom of Starlight. Great is the king, for he reigns with justice and strength," she said, her tone laced with reverence. She almost seemed to breathe the words as if the king's greatness was a truth so sacred it could not be doubted.
Elara fought the impulse to flinch. The King, she thought. She couldn't help but wonder if he was the key to her escape—or another obstacle in her way. "How can I go back to my world?" she asked, her voice steadier than she felt, her heart pounding in her chest.
The woman's eyes softened, but there was no kindness in them—only a coldness that seeped into her words. "Unfortunately, you cannot. But you may grow accustomed to this world. I assure you, it is a life you can learn to live," she said, her voice carrying a finality that made Elara's stomach churn.
"I want to go back to my world," Elara insisted, her tone sharp and desperate. The thought of being trapped here, forever separated from everything she knew, made her pulse race.
The woman's lips curled into a slight smile, though it held no warmth. "That is a knowledge I do not possess." Her gaze drifted toward the orb on the table, as if to suggest that answers—if any existed—were beyond her reach.
Elara's hands balled into fists, frustration threatening to overtake her composure. "Then you can't help me," she said, her words clipped, laced with disappointment.
The woman's smile lingered, faint but knowing. "I can tell you where to go. There is someone who may assist you. Perhaps he will offer you the answers you seek."
Without waiting for Elara's response, the woman rose from her seat, gliding across the room. Elara watched, feeling the weight of her uncertainty growing heavier. Where was this leading? Who was this person the woman spoke of? She had no answers, only more questions.
Moments later, the woman returned, holding a small, radiant orb in her hands. She set it gently on the table between them, the soft glow of the orb casting strange, shifting shadows across the room.
"The name is Vaylen," the woman said, her voice soft yet laden with meaning. "He knows people... people who know others... who may be able to help you." The words held a finality, as if Vaylen were the only thread Elara could cling to.
Elara leaned forward slightly, her heart racing. Vaylen. The name resonated in her mind, though she didn't know why. Who was he? What power did he hold?
Before she could ask more, the door to the room slammed open, and a man stepped inside. Elara's breath caught in her throat at the sheer presence of him. He was tall, his features harsh and unforgiving, dressed in black from head to toe. Shadows seemed to ripple and twist around him, as though they were part of him—cloaking him in darkness.
His eyes locked onto the orb immediately. Without a word, he strode forward, his boots silent on the floor. He didn't even glance at Elara or the woman. His entire focus was on the small orb sitting on the table, a look of barely contained hunger in his eyes.
He threw a small leather bag onto the table with a force that made the room vibrate. Elara's eyes widened. Gold. Diamonds. It was an entire fortune, a small mountain of wealth.
"Give me the orb," he said, his voice low, sharp, and commanding. It was as though the very air around him trembled with the force of his words.
The woman did not flinch. Her hands remained steady on the orb, her eyes meeting his without fear. "Do you think your gold will buy what you seek?" she asked, her voice cold but not unkind.
The man's lips curled into a sneer, his gaze still fixed on the orb. "I do not want your nonsense," he replied, his tone menacing, like the rumble of thunder before a storm breaks. "I want the orb."
The woman's eyes flickered with something—amusement? Resignation? It was hard to tell, but she did not relinquish her hold on the orb. "Perhaps, but nothing comes without a price," she said, her voice laced with an edge of warning.
Elara could feel the tension crackling between them like electricity, and a cold shiver ran down her spine. Who was this man? And what did he want with the orb?
The man's gaze never wavered. His fingers twitched as if the orb were already within his grasp. He was patient, but Elara could feel the darkness that seemed to follow him, wrapping the room in an oppressive silence.
"I want the orb," he repeated, his voice now a deadly whisper, laced with unspoken threat.
For the first time, the woman's expression shifted—something almost like a smile, but it was sharp, knowing. "I know," she said, almost as if she had expected this all along.
Elara, caught between them, could do nothing but watch. The room felt smaller now, the air thicker, as though everything in the universe was waiting for this moment to unfold.
Who was Vaylen? And who was this man?.