The cold air poured in through the arched windows of the royal study, swirling with a biting sharpness that nipped at exposed skin and sent shivers echoing over the stone floors.
Young Ciaran Asger sat cross-legged on the chill ground. His fingers were pale and trembling yet curled tightly around a leather-bound scroll. The worn edges creasing beneath his anxious grip. Shadows from the flickering hearth danced over his face and worry etched in his young face.
Beside him, looming like a living statue stood his father, King Michail. His presence dominated the chamber. He had one hand clasped behind his broad back and the other resting with cold finality on the hilt of his sword. His gaze was sharp, and there was a tension humming in the air like something brittle, something dangerous.
"Again," Michail's voice thundered, reverberating off the stone and making Ciaran's heart leap in his chest. "What are the Four Pillars of a Kingdom?"
Ciaran straightened, his black curls bouncing with unsteady his movement and his breath coming in quick and nervous puffs. Each word he spoke was careful thought of as if a single slip could shatter him. "Law, Honor, Blood... and Strength."
"Good," Michail said, his tone clipped even his approval was laced with chilling indifference. His eyes were cold as winter steel and they flicked over Ciaran not with pride but with assessment as if weighing a sword for flaws. "And the crown prince must bear all four. Not just repeat them."
"Yes, Father," Ciaran whispered, voice barely more than a breath. He hugged the scroll to his chest as if it could shield him from the sting in his father's eyes.
The heavy door groaned open, the sound breaking the tension. Ciaran's head snapped up with hope shining in his dark eyes. "Mother!"
Queen Eltha glided into the chamber with her every step graceful. Her sapphire gown flowed like liquid trailing on the stony floors of the study. The tension of the room softened in her presence. Queen Eltha had her eyes on her son and in that instant the air seemed warmer.
"Mother!" Ciaran shrieked and all his reserve breaking. His voice became high and bright with joy. He sprang to his feet and raced toward her with his small feet skimming over the rug.
His foot snagged the edge of the thick fur rug, and he fell forward. His palms and knees smacked the hadd floor with a sharp and echoing slap. For a heartbeat, there was silence, then came his wails, so thin and piercing.
"Cary!" Eltha rushed to him. Her dress flying with her heart in her throat. She dropped to her knees, pulling Ciaran into her arms. She rocked him even with her hands trembling, she whispered soothing words. Her voice trembling with love and worry. "Shhh… my love, my brave boy… I have you. I have you."
Michail's face darkened with annoyance and irritation flickering across his face like a gathering storm. "Enough of this coddling," he snapped. His voice cracking like a whip in the charged air. "He's the crown prince, Eltha, not a suckling child to be babied over a scrape."
Eltha met his gaze, her eyes steely and calm though her arms tightened protectively around Ciaran. "He is six. He is still a child, Michail."
"He is mine," Michail replied, his words glacial, final. "And he must be forged, not comforted. He is going to be king someday!"
Before Eltha could answer, the chamber doors banged open with force.
"Your Majesty," Lyle, Michail's advisor, strode in, his face ashen, every line etched with anxiety. His beard, streaked with gray quivered as he bowed. "A report. From a midwife… a child has been born blind."
The words hung in the air like a death knell. Michail froze, going rigid. Then his jaw clenched so tightly a muscle jumped in his cheek.
"It's been… a year," Lyle murmured, voice thick with dread, "since the last."
Michail turned slowly, his gaze went distant and his eyes shadowed by something dark and heavy. He walked to the tall window, staring out at the night sky. The moon hung swollen and silver-bright, its fullness casting ghostly light over the castle towers. The sight of the full moon reminded him of the prophecy and harden him further.
"It's the first full moon of the year. Isn't it?"
"A midwife gave the information, so it must be true, sire. We mustn't hesitate," Lyle said, voice low, bowing again.
"I want them killed immediately!" Michail's shout was a storm, so raw that it shook the room with its ferocity. "The mother of the child and the midwives. All."
"Yes, sire!" Lyle retreated hastily.
Eltha stricken immediately grabbed Michail's hand, her voice trembling with grief and fear. "Why?" she pleaded. Her eyes glistening with tears. "Why must there be so much death? Why must you kill so much?"
Michail's hand slipped from hers with his expression carved from ice. "I would kill anyone that tries to ruin me or my kingdom." Without another word, he strode from the room, his cloak snapping behind him, leaving Eltha and Ciaran in stunned silence.
As the night pressed heavy on the kingdom as Irina fled, desperation burning in every frantic heartbeat. Her newborn was strapped tightly to her chest, the child's fragile warmth the only thing anchoring her to hope even with the pain slamming over her body. She rode through the forest, the moon's glow throwing shifting patterns over her path. Each hoofbeat was a prayer, and every shadow felt like a threat.
Her body trembled with exhaustion, limbs heavy as lead. Her wounds from childbirth was still raw. The pain was a dull roar in her blood. From behind, a man's voice tore through the night. "Find her immediately!" terror seized her cold.
Irina's breath caught. Her eyes wide with panic, she urged the horse onward, clinging to consciousness as the world blurred past. At last, the depth of the forest swallowed her and trees crowding deeper than before. Their branches clawing at her cloak. The horse stumbled to a halt in a clearing, steam rising from its flanks.
"Help me!" she cried into the darkness, her voice cracking with desperation. "Please, help me! My child is about to be killed and so am I...! I need your help!"
Her pleas faded into the night tangled with fear and helplessness that pressed down on her chest almost squeezing the air from her lungs. She looked at her baby still silent and tiny between her. Tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Someone, please!" she whimpered almost collapsing against the horse's neck as her strength ebbing away, but she held her baby close.
A voice so gentle echoed through the trees. "You hold a great one dearly. Welcome."
Irina jerked her head up, searching wildly for the source. The forest remained empty with no shadows. Had she imagined it? The voice lingered in her mind like a sliver of hope.
Meanwhile, the guards argued at the forest's edge, their voices tense. "Sir, she's gone deeply into the forest. It's the Kenac forest. We can't... haven't you heard the rumors? Anyone who goes in never returns."
"His Majesty wants her dead" another hissed. "We need proof."
"Tell him we chased her into Kenac forest, and a beast devoured her. That's all."
A soft light bloomed, fireflies weaving patterns in the air, guiding Irina toward a distant cottage. She stumbled forward, following their glow with her heart pounding at the beautiful sight. She crossed a small bridge, the water glowed blue beneath her feet. Irina reached the cottage and saw a woman in a white dress waiting.
Irina wiped her eyes, disbelief and hope warring within her as she approached. The woman's presence was soothing, her smile serene.
"You're safe now. They cannot see you," the woman said, stepping into the moonlight.
The men retreated after staring for a while.
Relief crashed over Irina and her legs giving out as she slid off the horse. "Who are you?" she asked, voice trembling.
"I'm Lois, the guardian of Iura. This realm is meant for people like your daughter. You've come to the right place."
Irina nodded, exhaustion threatening to pull her under. "Tha… T—thank…" she rasped, clutching her baby tighter. The child slept peacefully and untouched by the turmoil. "I'm—"
"Irina. I know who you are," Lois said softly. "And I know why you've come."
Irina's voice broke. "Not for me… but…" She hesitated, fear and shame twisting inside her.
"Your blind child." Lois's words were gentle. Irina stared, astonished. How could she know? The child's eyes were hidden and no one could have told her.
She nodded, tears burning her eyes. "Can you cure her? I want her to live, she can't if she's blind."
"I can help. You brought her before the moon dims—you arrived just in time."
"Really? Then, how can I repay you?"
"You do not have to. It is an honor to be chosen for this," Lois replied, smiling kindly at the sleeping baby.
Confusion flickered across Irina's face, but she handed over her child, gratitude and terror mingling in her chest. "Thank you. I—I'm forever grateful."
Lois stared the infant. "Even born blind, her beauty is evident. She carries a shining destiny." She beckoned Irina to the glowing lake.
Irina followed, heart pounding. Lois took the baby, and with a reassuring nod, waded into the water.
"Wait—no!" Irina cried, panic rising as Lois lowered the child into the lake. "Don't! Please, she'll drown!"
Lois began chanting, her voice rising and falling in a language Irina had never heard. The water shimmered and churned with light swirling around the child. Irina could watched completely frozen between hope and horror.
Then, the impossible happened. The baby's eyes opened under the water, glowing white as the moon. Her hair shimmered, shifting from jet black to gleaming silver. Lois lifted her from the water, and at last, the child cried.
Irina's knees buckled in relief as Lois carried the child back. Her eyes were filled with awe and terror, locked on the baby's face. Her eyes and hair shining like moonlight.
"Won't you hold her?" Lois asked, cradling the baby toward her.
Irina's hands shook as she took her daughter, overwhelming love flooding her, washing away the fear. "Her eyes… her hair… what happened?"
"You've birthed a great one. You must protect her at all costs," Lois said, her smile gentle.
"Aelwen," Irina whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks as she gazed at her daughter, who wailed with strength.
"A blessed. Fair brow?" Lois echoed.
"Her eyes and hair are that of the moon. She's so beautiful… so fair," Irina replied, voice trembling with wonder and disbelief.
"She is, and her name is lovely," Lois said, raising her face to the shining moon above.
Irina's tears fell freely, joy and grief crashing together in her heart. "I can't believe she's mine," she sobbed, clutching Aelwen tight. "She's so beautiful."