ThE MISSING ORACLE

The King's Command

The sudden disappearance of the Oracle had plunged the Kingdom of Amandi into turmoil.

With each passing day, the drought worsened. Rivers dwindled to mere trickles, crops withered under the relentless sun, and anxious villagers gathered in town squares, praying for a glimmer of hope.

Inside the Royal Palace, King Aldren sat on his ornate golden throne, his brow furrowed with worry.

The Grand Hall buzzed with advisers, generals, priests, and noblemen, all caught in a thick atmosphere of tension.

No one could explain why the Oracle had vanished.

No one had found a way to halt the drought.

And time was slipping away.

"We can't just sit here and watch our kingdom suffer," the king proclaimed, his voice resonating through the hall.

The advisers exchanged uneasy glances.

"What is your command, Your Majesty?" General Varok inquired.

King Aldren stood tall.

"I am ordering a search across the entire kingdom."

The hall erupted into a flurry of whispers.

The king raised his hand, demanding silence.

"Every village, forest, mountain, and ruin must be scoured. Dispatch riders to every corner of Amandi. I want every lead followed and every witness interviewed."

The royal guards bowed in acknowledgment.

"As you wish, Your Majesty."

The king pressed on.

"Whoever finds the Oracle—or uncovers her fate—will be rewarded with gold, land, and a place of honor in this kingdom."

Word of the king's decree spread like wildfire throughout Amandi.

Messengers galloped across the countryside, delivering the news.

Search parties sprang into action.

Hunters ventured into the depths of the forests.

Soldiers navigated treacherous mountain trails.

Even everyday citizens joined the quest, eager to lend a hand—or claim the reward.

But as the search widened, peculiar rumors began to surface.

Travelers spoke of shadowy figures flitting through the woods at night.

Some claimed to have seen strange lights flickering near the Hill of Echoes.

Others whispered that ancient magic had resurfaced in the kingdom.

Meanwhile, Amara remained concealed in a quiet corner of the city, troubled by the events at the Hall of Records.

Why had the king suddenly ordered such a drastic measureWas he protecting the kingdom?

Or hiding something?

As she sat beneath a tree, studying the parchment once more, a folded notice caught her attention.

It was nailed to a nearby wall.

The king's proclamation.

At the bottom was the royal seal and a final message:

"Any person withholding information regarding the Oracle's disappearance shall be considered an enemy of the kingdom."

Amara felt a knot tighten in her stomach.

She was hiding information.

Important information.

If anyone discovered the parchment, she could be arrested.

Yet deep inside, she knew she could not hand it over.

Not until she understood its meaning.

As the sun began to set, she made her decision.

She would leave the city at dawn.

The clues all pointed toward the Hill of Echoes.

If answers existed, she would find them herself.

Far away, beyond the palace walls, dark clouds gathered over the northern horizon.

And somewhere in the distance, unseen by all, a pair of watchful eyes followed Amara's every move.

The search for the Oracle had begun.

But Amara was no longer the only one searching.