VIRELLIA, KINGDOM OF THE WITCHES
The sun rose over the hills in a haze of soft gold, casting dewdrops across the fields like scattered stars. Lilith ran barefoot through the tall grass, her laughter trailing behind her on the morning breeze. She clutched her boots in one hand, the other brushing wildflowers as they swayed in greeting.
"Told you I'd beat you!" she shouted over her shoulder.
A few paces behind, her cousin Lira groaned and dropped into the grass. "You cheated. That path was off-limits."
"Says who?" Lilith flopped down beside her, grinning. "The spirits of the sacred wheat?"
They both giggled, breathless and warm, lying back to watch the sky. Mornings like this made Lilith feel weightless—when the world was still half-dream, and the hills of Virellia stretched golden and quiet as far as the eye could see. It felt, just for a moment, like they were the only two people alive.
"You excited?" Lira nudged her.
"For what?"
"Your Choosing, dummy. It's only three days away."
Lilith hesitated. That word—Choosing—wrapped around her like a vine. Everyone said it with reverence, like it was sacred. But to her, it felt heavy. Too big.
"I guess," she said, plucking a blade of grass. "I'm hoping for Water. Or maybe Air. Something light."
"Not Earth?" Lira teased. "You're stubborn enough."
"Rude."
"But not Fire," Lira added more quietly. "No one wants Fire."
A hush fell over them. Even the meadow seemed to hold its breath.
Lilith forced a laugh. "As if I'd be that lucky."
But Lira didn't laugh. Her eyes flicked to the distant forest. Lilith followed her gaze. Just shadows. Just trees. And yet—something tugged at her, a prickling awareness. Like being watched.
"You know what my mother said?" Lira whispered. "That a Fire Witch only comes once in a generation. That they're cursed."
Lilith rolled her eyes and sat up. "Your mother thinks the moon listens through my hairbrush."
"Maybe it does," Lira said, grinning.
But Lilith didn't smile. A chill crept down her spine.
She rose to her feet, brushing grass from her dress, eyes lingering on the tree line. Still just shadows. Still just wind. But something felt... different.
She shook it off, blaming the ever-watchful guards hidden in the hills. She was the Princess, after all. Privacy had never been hers.
"Mother says suitors will flood the castle for my birthday," she said, voice duller now. "She says if one's kind enough, I'll be married off before dessert."
Lira snorted. "Your parents don't care about kindness, Lily. Only power. You should know that by now."
Lilith sighed. "Thanks for the encouragement."
Her cousin smiled sadly. Lira had already married for politics, wed to Lord Velrion, a man powerful enough to please her parents—and kind enough to let her visit. The Choosing was near, and family presence was expected.
"Come on, Lily. I love you, but you know the truth. Royals don't marry for love. We're not raised for that."
Lilith's heart pounded. She spun on her heel and strode toward the river, slipping off her boots.
"Let the adults worry about their nonsense," she called over her shoulder. "I haven't even turned fifteen yet."
Before Lira could reply, a splash of cold river water hit her square in the chest.
"You liar!" Lira shrieked.
Lilith dashed away, laughing so hard her stomach hurt.
If joy could be captured in a person, it would be Lilith Smirnova. Her family knew it. Her future husband—wherever he was—was about to find out.
"Not my fault you can't beat me at anything!" Lilith called.
Lira clutched her chest like she'd been mortally wounded. Lilith collapsed into laughter again, only to be ambushed by Lira, who hurled her soaked shoe at her face.
They fell into the mud together, shrieking, laughing, completely ruined. Neither cared.
"Race you back to the castle?" Lira offered a hand.
"Sure." A mischievous grin spread across Lilith's face.
Then Lira bolted without warning.
"Hey! That's not fair!" Lilith shouted, hitching her dress and tearing after her.
Their laughter echoed across the hills, and even the hidden guards chuckled.
"Got you!" Lira cried as Lilith tackled her into a muddy puddle.
Lilith laughed so hard she couldn't breathe.
"If your husband takes this away from me," she gasped, "I'll kill him in his sleep."
They both knew she was only half-joking. But family always came first.
"Lady Lira, your husband has arrived."
Both girls froze. The moment was over. They rose slowly, walking back toward the castle.
"Lord Velrion," Lilith greeted him with a curtsy. He was older, but not unkind. He had married Lira for title, but he stayed for love.
"Princess Lilith. Always a pleasure."
She grinned. "How long must I wait to become an aunt?"
Lira blushed. Velrion chuckled. The tension lifted, if only slightly.
As they neared the castle, guards stepped into view, blades drawn, alert as ever.
Inside, her parents spoke with the Royal Physician. Lilith paused, just within earshot.
"Princess Lilith," the physician greeted her with a bow before returning to her parents.
Her mother turned. "What in the Gods happened to your dress? Must you act like a child?"
Lilith bowed her head. "Forgive me."
She left without another word.
Her father would not defend her. He rarely did.
"Your Majesty," the physician continued, "I must remind you of Calyra. If precautions aren't taken, Lilith's Choosing could go wrong."
"Calyra didn't die because we weren't careful," Queen Zaphyra snapped. "She died because she was too weak. Lilith will succeed. As the Gods foretold."
"As you wish. Prepare her. Midnight, Sunday. If she's not ready, she won't survive."
King Varkul exhaled slowly. "How long will we keep pretending Calyra died during her Choosing?"
"She is dead to this family," Zaphyra said coldly. "The only time we'll see her again is on her deathbed—so we can remind her how ashamed we are."
He said nothing. He had not seen his daughter in three years. Not since she vanished.
He had searched the kingdom in secret, desperate to find her. But it was as if she'd never existed.
Still, he couldn't blame her. Calyra had been his joy. His pride. His child.
But he was King. And a King could not break. Not even for his daughter.
Lilith would be his last chance. If she died too, he feared what would be left of him.
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Far from the castle, deep in a forest cabin, a girl with haunted eyes stirred from sleep.
Calyra Smirnova.
She had barely survived her Choosing. Lied to. Betrayed. Exiled.
But now, her sister's life was at stake.
And she would not let Lilith burn.
Even if it meant breaking every law, defying every god, and walking back into the jaws of the beast.
Lilith Smirnova would either die a tragic death—
Or become her family's undoing.