The grand throne room gleamed with opulence, golden torchlight reflecting off marble pillars and intricate tapestries. Despite its grandeur, an ominous tension clung to the air like a storm waiting to break.
King Caesar sat proudly on his ornate throne, his lips curved into a triumphant smile. His silvery-gold eyes gleamed with dangerous satisfaction.
The heavy doors creaked open, revealing Lord Cedric Draco, clad in dark regal armor that glinted ominously under the flickering flames. His towering frame exuded raw power, each step resonating with dominance. Beside him walked his son, Ezekeil Cedric, a solemn boy with piercing golden eyes brimming with defiance.
"As promised," King Caesar declared, his voice booming through the chamber, "my royal pure-blooded princess has been born."
Lord Cedric's gaze sharpened as he approached the ornate crib in the center of the room. The faint coos of a newborn echoed softly, a fragile melody against the oppressive atmosphere. Cedric's lips curved into a satisfied smile.
Ezekeil, disinterested in the exchange between the two powerful men, wandered toward the crib. His eyes softened as he gazed at the baby girl nestled within silk blankets, her tiny chest rising and falling with each breath.
"She's... beautiful," he murmured under his breath, surprised by the sudden warmth blooming in his chest.
The baby stirred but remained peacefully asleep. Ezekeil's heart clenched unexpectedly—a fierce, inexplicable urge to protect her taking root.
A sudden chant shattered the fragile tranquility. Ezekeil's eyes darted toward a robed figure—a wizard cloaked in dark enchantments, muttering arcane spells that crackled through the air.
Before Ezekeil could react, his hand was seized. A sharp prick pierced his ring finger. He winced, instinctively trying to pull away, but his father's cold, commanding glare froze him in place.
The wizard moved methodically, drawing intricate symbols on the baby's delicate face. Her serene expression twisted into a pained wail.
Rage simmered beneath Ezekeil's skin. His golden aura flickered violently around him, sending ripples through the room as he struggled against the invisible weight of his father's dominance.
"Ezekeil," Cedric's voice was low but lethal, slicing through the boy's defiance.
Seething, Ezekeil forced himself into stillness, though his heart roared in protest.
The wizard's lips curled into a smirk as he traced the final symbol on Ezekeil's face. Golden light erupted from both Ezekeil's and the baby's ring fingers, forming glowing bands like ethereal tattoos.
As the light faded, identical circular marks remained etched on their fingers—a bond forged by ancient magic and blood.
"It is done, Your Majesty," the wizard declared, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.
King Caesar and Lord Cedric exchanged smug nods, their pact sealed.
Ezekeil, however, stood bewildered, his gaze fixed on the baby's now serene face. The warmth he felt moments ago lingered, but confusion gnawed at him.
Suddenly, a deafening bang shattered the tense atmosphere.
A woman with fiery red hair appeared, her aura radiant and fierce. Power radiated from her presence, yet Ezekeil felt inexplicably safe.
King Caesar and Lord Cedric moved to block her path, but she swept past them effortlessly, her focus solely on the crib.
Ezekeil watched, frozen, as the woman cradled the baby in her arms. Her expression softened with maternal tenderness before she turned to him.
Kneeling before Ezekeil, she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Her lips moved, forming words he couldn't hear—words that brushed against the edges of his consciousness like a forgotten melody.
A sense of peace washed over him as darkness claimed his vision.
Twelve Years Later
Ezekeil's eyes snapped open.
"Damn that dream again," he muttered, rubbing his face.
The lingering warmth from the woman's touch clung to his chest, but her words remained an enigma.
Shaking off the unease, he stood from his makeshift bed beneath the towering trees of the Enchanted Forest. The earthy scent of moss and magic filled the air.
Three weeks had passed since he began his search for the Elves' Hidden Village, following rumors and fading traces of ancient magic.
"I'll find it," he vowed under his breath, slinging his pack over his shoulder.
As dawn's first light filtered through the dense canopy, determination burned in his chest.
Vanishing into the depths of the ancient forest, Ezekeil moved with purpose, unaware that his destiny with the girl bound by magic and blood was about to unfold.