The morning sun had barely risen when the first voices echoed through the gates of Valemont Manor.
At first, they were timid — a few villagers, their faces pale and drawn, clutching children and bundles of blankets, whispering anxiously among themselves. But by mid-morning, the crowd had swelled into a throng that pressed against the manor walls. They wailed, cried, and shouted in unison, their panic vibrating through the stone corridors like a low, persistent drumbeat.
Seraphina, standing at the window of the great hall, pressed her hands to the cool glass. She could see their fear in the way they trembled, the way some of the women held their children close to their chests, rocking them in desperate rhythms. Men shouted, demanding answers. "Tell us what is happening! The crops are failing! The children are vanishing!"
The Queen moved to the dais at the front of the hall, her robe flowing like water as she raised her hands for silence. Her eyes, heavy with worry and sleepless nights, swept over the sea of faces.
"People of Valemont," she called, her voice trembling but strong enough to carry over the uproar. "Please, hear me. I understand your fear. I… we are working to understand what has caused these tragedies."
A man pushed forward from the crowd, his voice cracking. "The King is ill! The harvest is failing! Children are gone! You sit in your castle while the town suffers!"
The Queen's jaw tightened, but she remained composed. "I assure you, we will find solutions. My daughters and Lord Daven—"
Seraphina's gaze fell on Selene. Her sister stood perfectly still at the Queen's side, her posture serene, her silver eyes sweeping over the crowd. She gave no sign of alarm. No sign of empathy.
Seraphina's chest constricted. Something about the way Selene's gaze lingered on the people made her stomach churn. It was too calm, too detached — as though she were observing a play rather than the despair of her own town.
The crowd's wails grew louder, some banging on the gates, demanding answers, demanding leadership.
"Your Majesty!" another woman screamed, tears streaking her face. "Our children are missing! Where is the King? Where is justice?"
The Queen Inhaled, steadying herself. "The King is under the care of the royal physician. His condition is delicate —"
Seraphina felt the hairs on her neck stand on end. The King's illness, the chaos in the village, Selene's strange calm — all threads of something larger, something she couldn't yet name.
Daven stepped forward. "We will help. We will go to the villages, assess the situation, and bring order. But we need your patience and your trust."
Selene nodded slightly, still silent, still eerily composed. The villagers looked to her, and a few whispered amongst themselves: The princess, she does not look worried. She does not mourn.
Seraphina's stomach twisted. Her sister's demeanor was wrong. It didn't match the anguish of the people, the fear in the streets, or the weight of the King's illness.
"Send for my daughters," the Queen finally said, her voice quiet, almost a command. "I must speak to them privately."
Seraphina followed her mother into the study, her mind racing. "Mother," she whispered, her voice trembling, "look at her. Selene… she isn't herself. I've never seen her like this. The way she watches the people… it isn't right."
The Queen gave a small nod, her own expression grave. "I've noticed. Something is not right. And I fear… I do not yet know how deep it goes."
Seraphina clenched her fists, her eyes darkening. "We can't let this continue. If something happens to the King, to the town… I won't forgive myself if I do nothing."
Her mother placed a hand on her shoulder. "You must be careful, my daughter. There are forces at work here that we do not yet understand. But you are brave. That is why you must watch, observe, and learn — before it is too late."
Seraphina nodded, her mind racing as the wailing of the people outside seeped through the manor walls. Something was coming — something that would not wait for explanations or careful plans. And she knew, deep down, that Selene was at the center of it.
Seraphina left the manor quietly, slipping past the gates while the main crowd was still gathering at the front. She needed answers — and she couldn't rely on Selene or even Daven to help her see what was really happening.
The path to the village was shrouded in morning mist. The dew on the cobblestones reflected the faint light of the rising sun, turning puddles into molten silver. Every step Seraphina took seemed louder than it should, the echo bouncing off the empty streets.
When she arrived, the village was in chaos. Homes that were once orderly now bore the signs of panic. Doors were left open, dishes and belongings scattered. People huddled in clusters, whispering to each other with anxious glances toward the manor on the hill.
Seraphina approached a group of women near the well. Their faces were pale, their eyes wide with fear.
"What's happening?" she asked, her voice soft but urgent.
One of the women shook her head. "The town… it's cursed. It began last night. Children went missing, crops spoiled overnight… we are being punished!"
"Punished?" Seraphina echoed, confusion knitting her brow.
The woman clutched her shawl tighter. "For the old ways, child. For destroying the worshippers. They say we angered something ancient, something that does not forgive. The skies brought storms, the earth brings rot, and the spirits… they take what they must."
Another voice, a man from the nearby street, added, trembling: "The priests warned us long ago. Do not anger the old gods. But we mocked them. We hunted the seers and burned the sacred stones. And now… now it comes for us."
Seraphina felt a chill creep down her spine. The old gods? She had never believed in such things. Yet the fear in their eyes — the terror that made their voices shake — was undeniable.
She moved further into the village, listening to fragments of conversation that twisted her stomach.
"They vanish at night… the children… the animals… even our livestock…"
"They say the manor itself is a beacon now, calling them."
"Your Princess Selene… she walks as if she knows… as if she calls it."
Seraphina's steps faltered. Her chest tightened as a creeping sense of dread filled her. Could Selene truly be involved in this? Could her sister be… causing it?
She paused at the edge of the square, gazing at the manor above, its towers piercing the gray morning sky. Something about Selene's presence at the last council, her calmness amidst the panic, made a dark suspicion gnaw at Seraphina. She isn't just calm… she's in control of it.
The villagers' voices blended into a low hum, chanting almost under their breath, a repetition of curses and warnings. Seraphina crouched behind a cart to listen closer.
"They've angered the old ways… only blood can settle the debt… only the heir can stop it…"
The words hit her like ice. The heir? Selene? Or… was it her?
A sudden movement in the corner of her eye made her turn sharply. Shadows stretched across the square, twisting unnaturally. For a moment, she could have sworn she saw a pale figure moving silently between the buildings — Selene, perhaps, but taller, almost ethereal, her eyes glinting like shards of glass.
Seraphina's heart pounded. She ran a few steps forward, trying to catch sight of the figure, but the shadow vanished, melting into the mist.
She fell to her knees, gasping. The villagers' murmurs surrounded her like a living thing. Their whispers spoke of punishment, of angered spirits, of ancient debts — and she could not tell what was real and what was fear made flesh.
All she knew was this: the town was paying for something… and Selene — or the Selene she saw in the manor — was at the center of it.
Seraphina turned back toward the manor, resolve settling in her chest. She had to understand. She had to find out the truth before the entire town — perhaps even her family — was destroyed.
And as she walked back, the mist clung to her like hands reaching from the earth, whispering promises of pain and chaos to come