The coronation of Vaelithor was held within the radiant halls of the fae castle, at the very heart of the realm. The towers stretched high into the skies, their crystal spires scattering light in every direction, as though they drank the dawn itself. The crown, awaiting its new bearer, was no mere ornament: its ancient power nourished the wings and magic of the fae, as essential to their existence as the very air they breathed.
Crowds thronged the corridors leading to the throne hall. Not only fae had gathered, but also beings the humans might call "supernatural." From mermaid princesses with shimmering fins to grim knights of shadow, countless guests had come to witness my brother Nareth's coronation. The air trembled with expectation, heavy with music, light, and glittering finery.
As I made my way toward my parents, a sudden impact wrenched me from my thoughts. I stumbled to the ground, the marble cold beneath my palms. When I rose, I glimpsed only a tall, dark figure in a cloak striding swiftly toward the outer gardens, two palace guards already pursuing him.
I had half a mind to follow, but a hand seized my arm. My sister, Lia, emerged from the colorful crowd. Her eyes smiled, though her voice was firm.
"Come now—the ceremony is about to begin. Don't stray too far!"
Before I could reply, a shorter, middle-aged elf stepped before us. His robe was woven of vivid hues—green and gold richly embroidered with natural motifs, vines and leaves twining across the fabric as if alive. A silver band bound his hair, and his gaze radiated calm.
"What an honor it is to meet you, young ladies," he said with a courteous bow. "Your father has spoken of you so often, I feel as though I already know you."
For a fleeting moment, everything seemed in order again—until the air shifted.
At first, only a single wisp of gray mist drifted down from the ceiling, as though the stones themselves exhaled. Then it thickened, rolling over the hall until the entire throne room drowned in fog. The brilliance of the crystal chandeliers dulled, music faltered, and the murmur of voices fell into a tense, unnatural silence.
The crowd quivered. Lia's grip on my arm tightened, her fingers cold as ice. I could not see my brother, nor my parents—only the suffocating shroud of mist. A cry pierced the haze, followed by the clash of steel, swallowed quickly into the muffled gloom.
Then, slowly, the fog began to part. Shapes emerged, and the sight that revealed itself stole the breath from my chest.
At the foot of the throne lay my father, a long black arrow piercing his chest. Beside him, my mother's body was draped in white now soaked with red, a sword thrust through her heart. Her eyes remained open, as if her final gaze still sought us.
The crown, which only moments before had gleamed upon its velvet cushion, was gone. In that instant, the very fabric of the hall seemed to weaken. The fae around me gasped as their wings dimmed, the glow of their magic fading as though snuffed by invisible hands. A wave of frailty spread through the room.
Panic erupted. Screams and clattering steel filled the air as guests surged toward the exits, guards clashed against unseen threats, and the once-glorious hall dissolved into chaos.
"Come!" I seized Lia's hand, pulling her after me. I forced a path through the confusion, down shadowed corridors, until we spilled into a narrow passage leading toward the gardens.
But there I froze. From the last tendrils of fog, a figure emerged—the same cloaked form I had collided with before. The darkness clung to him as if it were part of his very being, the hood hiding his face, his stance calm yet unyielding.
My heart hammered in my chest, Lia trembling behind me. The figure raised a hand slowly, a silent gesture that carried both menace and mystery. He was part of all that had just transpired—yet whether assassin, messenger, or something else entirely, I could not tell.
All I knew was this: fate had drawn him across my path, and though terror and loss still consumed me, something within me whispered that this shadow was more than an enemy.