Chapter Two – The First Encounter
705 Words
The Obsidian Palace was colder than the journey through the Nightveil Forest, and Elira wasn’t sure if it was the chill in the air… or the weight of something unseen watching her every move.
She followed the butler’s lead, her boots soft against the glossy black floors. The walls were lined with tall, arched windows that didn’t let in light—only reflections of the storm-heavy sky outside.
“This way, Lady Drake,” the butler said, not sparing her a glance.
Lady. The title sounded wrong on her skin. She was no noble. Just a healer from a nameless village whose only crime was having light magic in her blood—and a dead mentor whose secrets were now buried under ash.
They stopped at a grand obsidian door, carved with twisted symbols that pulsed faintly under her gaze. The butler knocked once, bowed, and disappeared down the hall like a shadow slipping away.
Elira took a breath and stepped inside.
The room was enormous. Dim. The air was heavy with incense and something darker. At first, she didn’t see him. Only bookshelves, old weapons, and an unlit fireplace stretching like a gaping mouth.
Then she saw the throne.
Not gold, not velvet—just iron and bone, twisted and cruel.
And in it sat the prince.
He wasn’t what the rumors painted. No fangs. No horns. No smoke coiling from his mouth.
But still—he looked… wrong. Too still. Too quiet.
“Prince Kael,” she whispered, forcing a bow.
His voice was low, sharp. “You are late.”
“I arrived as soon as I could, Your Highness.”
“You were summoned five days ago.”
Elira looked up. His eyes met hers—and for a second, her breath caught. They weren’t red or glowing like a demon’s. They were silver. Pale and distant, like frozen stars.
And full of rage.
“Sit,” he said, without emotion.
She obeyed, sliding onto a long bench near the wall. He didn’t move, but she felt his magic stir. The temperature dropped further.
“Why were you chosen?” he asked flatly.
“I don’t know.”
“Lies don’t go well here.”
“I didn’t ask to come here,” Elira snapped before she could stop herself. “Your Highness.”
Kael’s brow lifted. “You’re brave. Or stupid.”
“Both, probably.”
A flicker. A twitch of a smile that disappeared just as fast. He stood, and she immediately noticed the change.
He was tall. All sharp lines and shadows, cloaked in a black robe with silver embroidery curling like vines. A sword hung at his waist, untouched. His hair was dark as smoke, but a white streak ran through it like lightning frozen in place.
As he stepped forward, Elira felt it.
That… thing.
The power. The curse.
It clung to him like a second skin, whispering, growling, waiting. And still, her pendant—the sunstone her mentor gave her—began to glow faintly against her chest.
Kael stopped. He saw it. His eyes narrowed.
“Take it off.”
“It’s just a—”
“I said,” his voice dropped an octave, “take it off.”
Elira’s hand shook slightly as she unclasped the chain and held the stone in her palm.
Kael reached for it.
And then—his fingers brushed hers.
The room exploded with light.
Elira fell back, gasping as her skin burned—not from pain, but from the heat of his touch. Kael staggered, gripping his arm as shadows leapt off his body like flames escaping their master.
“What did you do?” he hissed.
“I—I didn’t—”
“Get out.”
“But—”
“GET OUT!”
The doors burst open behind her without a touch, and a gust of wind shoved her into the hallway. She didn’t wait. She ran, heart hammering in her chest, the sunstone still clutched tightly in her palm.
She should’ve been terrified. She should’ve begged to be sent home.
But beneath the fear was something else.
Curiosity.
Because when he touched her…
The curse inside him didn’t grow stronger.
It cracked.
- Writer
