One day, a man was found dead near the edge of the forest. His body was cold and stiff, his eyes wide open in terror. There were no wounds, no blood — only a strange mark burned into his neck, shaped like a twisted symbol no one had ever seen before.
The villagers gathered around in silence, their faces pale with fear. No one spoke, but they all knew — this was not the work of any animal.
From that day on, no one dared to go near the forest after sunset. Doors were locked early, candles burned through the night, and prayers were whispered under shaky breaths.
Whispers turned into suspicion. The villagers began to doubt the newcomers, the strange family that had arrived by sea. Their odd behavior, their secretive ways, and now, the growing darkness around the village… it all pointed to them.
A few days later, another dead body was found near the forest — a young boy. His mother, a widow, was shattered. Her cries echoed through the village, heavy with grief. This time, the villagers decided to go to the king, their fear outweighing their hesitation. So, one by one, the villagers went to the king.
They spoke in hushed voices, their eyes filled with fear, "Those newcomers are cursed. They brought the evil with them. They must be sent away before it's too late."
The king listened and troubled. He looked at the forest, at the dying crops, at the fear in his people's eyes. Deep down, even he could no longer deny it.
But the king's wife — the one who had once shown them kindness—still held onto hope. "We don't have proof," she said softly. "We must be careful with accusations."
Still, the unease only grew… and the forest watched in silence.
One day, King called the strange new family to the palace. "Are you performing rituals?" he asked. "Are you responsible for the deaths of our villagers?"
The family shook their heads. "No," they said calmly. "We are not involved in this."
The villagers pressed forward, faces angry and afraid. They shouted that the newcomers were cursed, that they had brought death to the fields and the children. Their voices rose into a single, hungry demand: "They must go. They must die."
King Aziel listened to the cries, watched the fear in his people's eyes. The councilors whispered among themselves. Mercy and doubt fought across his face, but the weight of the kingdom bent him toward a single, terrible decision.
"Very well," he said at last, his voice hollow. "If the people demand it, then the law will be carried out."
Orders were given. The family would be taken at dawn.
Just as the guards moved to take the family away, a servant burst into the court, breathless and panicked.
"Your Highness!" he cried, falling to one knee. "It's the Queen — she's..................…
(To be continued...)