Chapter 3
1461 Words
The courtyard was deathly silent in the wake of Evelynn’s departure. The wind carried the last echoes of her voice, her promise lingering like a ghost in the air.
Eric stood frozen, his grip on his sword white-knuckled. He had faced countless enemies, survived betrayals and battles—but nothing compared to the agony of seeing Evelynn like that. Not just lost, but taken.
Elara was the first to break the silence. She turned in a sharp motion, her breath uneven, her hands balled into fists at her sides. “What just happened?” Her voice cut through the stillness, demanding answers, demanding sense.
No one spoke at first. Then, Eugene, standing beside her, exhaled sharply. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t reached out—not out of fear, but out of something worse. He recognized what had happened. The golden-eyed man, the magic that wrapped around Evelynn like an iron cage—it was old. Older than war, older than reason. It felt wrong.
“It took my mother.” Elara’s voice trembled, but it was anger, not fear, that fueled her. She spun toward Eric, frustration crackling through every word. “You let him take my mother!”
Eric’s jaw clenched. His body was too tense, his muscles too stiff, like a coiled spring ready to snap. “She wasn’t our Evelynn.” The words barely escaped through gritted teeth.
Mary and Jasmine exchanged worried glances before Jasmine hesitantly stepped forward, her voice hoarse. “She tried to take Elara.” She shook her head, her expression twisted in disbelief. “Evelynn would never—”
“She isn’t Evelynn anymore,” Eugene murmured.
Eric turned sharply, his eyes flashing with barely contained fury. “Don’t say that.”
Eugene didn’t flinch. He met Eric’s gaze with quiet certainty, his voice steady. “You saw what I did.” His fingers curled at his sides, like he was trying to grasp the right words. “That wasn’t just her falling to darkness. That wasn’t just her making a choice. She’s controlled.”
“Then we break her free,” Eric said immediately, his voice leaving no room for argument.
Eugene exhaled, rubbing his forehead. “And if we can’t?”
Silence.
Eric’s jaw worked as he swallowed hard. The question lingered like poison in the air.
Elara took a step closer, her eyes shining with something unreadable—fear, rage, desperation. “No one wants to say it, so I will.” She lifted her chin, shoulders squared. “What if we can’t save her? What if she’s already gone?”
A sharp inhale filled Eric’s lungs. “I won’t accept that.”
Elara didn’t back down. “You have to consider it!”
“No,” Eric snapped, his voice harsher than intended. He turned away, running a hand through his hair. He was losing control of the conversation—of the very idea that Evelynn might not be saved.
Jasmine let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Maybe she didn’t want to be saved.”
Eric’s head snapped toward her so fast it was a wonder his neck didn’t break. “Don’t.”
Jasmine didn’t back down. “She chose to come back like that, Eric. She didn’t fight him. She wasn’t struggling. She wanted to take Elara with her.”
“Because she’s under his control!” Eric’s voice cracked under the weight of his emotions. “Because she’s not herself! You think she wanted this?” His fists clenched at his sides, shaking. “I saw her. For a moment, she was there—our Evelynn. And that means there’s still a chance.”
No one spoke for several seconds.
Jasmine crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. “And if you’re wrong?”
Eric’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Then I’ll find another way.”
Elara inhaled deeply, as if steadying herself. “And if there isn’t another way?”
Eric looked at her then, really looked at her.
The fire in her eyes, the desperate need for a solid answer.
His silence was answer enough.
Elara exhaled, voice barely above a whisper. “Then we better pray we don’t have to make that choice.”
The wind picked up around them, cold and cutting, carrying the weight of what had just transpired.
Eugene glanced toward the sky, toward the direction his mother had disappeared. His expression was grim. “We need to find out who that man really is. Because if we don’t…” He turned back to Eric, eyes dark with warning. “She won’t be the only thing we lose.”
Eric closed his eyes for a brief second, gathering himself. When he spoke again, his voice was firm. “Then we start now.”
Eugene barely noticed the conversation around him. His mind was already racing, piecing together fragments of knowledge buried deep in forgotten texts. He had felt the golden-eyed man’s presence before. Not personally—but in whispers of old legends, in the cracks of history where names had been erased and power had been feared rather than fought. he had spent many late nights up in the castles library very deep in text he could recall a name of something.
Malagar.
The name sent a shudder through him.
It wasn’t just a name. It was a force—something older than kings and kingdoms, older than time itself. Malagar wasn’t a sorcerer or a warlord. He was something beyond mortal comprehension, something that had existed in the shadows of time, feeding off power, bending fate and time to his will.
Eugene’s stomach twisted as realization hit him like a hammer. Malagar wouldn’t just control Evelynn—he would owned her.
If Malagar had claimed Evelynn, it wasn’t just about her magic. It wasn’t just about turning her into a weapon.
It was about something far worse.
A way to rewrite destiny itself.
Eugene’s hands clenched into fists, his breath coming quicker. If the legends were true, Malagar wasn’t just some dark force that manipulated people—he twisted reality. He found those tied to great fates and corrupted them, molding the very fabric of the world to his desires.
And Evelynn, bound to the prophecy from birth, had been the perfect target.
His stomach churned.
If Malagar had her…
It meant the prophecy itself was at risk of unraveling.
It meant they weren’t just fighting for Evelynn’s soul anymore.
They were fighting for the fate of the world itself.
The council room was thick with tension, the air nearly suffocating with the weight of unspoken doubts. The candlelight flickered against the worn stone walls, casting shadows that danced like ghosts—much like Evelynn’s presence still haunted them.
Callum exhaled slowly, his arms crossed over his chest. “Eric, I understand your loyalty. But they all saw her. That wasn’t just some spell. That was something else.”
“She’s possessed,” Eugene said grimly. “Not enchanted, not cursed. I think Malagar has claimed her.”
“And what does that mean?” Jasmine challenged, her eyes flashing. “That she’s too far gone? That she chose this?”
“She didn’t choose anything,” Eric snapped, his hands still braced against the table. His knuckles were white, his whole body tense as if ready to fight them all. “You don’t know what she’s been through.”
Jasmine let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “No, but I know what I saw. And what I saw was Evelynn standing beside a monster, letting him own her.”
Eric moved so fast the chair beside him clattered to the ground. “Say that again.”
“Enough,” Callum said sharply, stepping between them. He fixed Jasmine with a hard look before turning back to Eric. “We need to decide what we’re up against.”
Eric’s chest rose and fell with deep, ragged breaths. He turned his gaze to Eugene. “Tell them. Tell them what you told me.”
Eugene hesitated, glancing at the expectant faces around him. Finally, he set his jaw and spoke.
“Malagar isn’t just about controlling Evelynn,” he said. “He would own her. He binds himself to people of great power—people destined to shape history. And once he has them, he twists their fate to serve his own.”
Jasmine scoffed. “And you think we can just save her from that?”
Eric’s jaw tightened. “I know we can.”
“And if we can’t?”
Silence.
Eric looked at each of them, his voice quiet but unshakable when he finally spoke.
“She wouldn’t give up on me,” he said. “So I won’t give up on her.”
- Writer
