The Call of the Night King

It happened on a cold winter night. The city pulsed with cheers, celebrating the Festival of the Water Goddess Thalina. Everyone had poured out of their homes, the roads lit and alive with color, lined with carts selling sweetmeats and spiced treats. The palace of Duskari had opened its walls, allowing visitors to enter. Selene, Veyla, Nyra, and Karlene worked side by side, filling plates for the less fortunate. When the last of the pots were scraped clean, the crowd had thinned. Their father, laughing among his guests, made no move to rein his daughters in. Tonight, they were free to roam. Aeris was over the moon. She grabbed Soren’s hand, and the two of them darted off into the night. “Not too far,” Veyla called after them, already imagining them getting turned around in the dark. “Leave them,” Selene said with a quiet smile, strolling ahead. “Soren will keep her safe.” But Soren was only a boy, twelve, and barely taller than Aeris. Veyla’s worry didn’t ease, though she pressed forward, wearing a smile of her own. Nyra and Karlene followed behind, eyes wide with wonder at the beauty strung along the streets like garlands of light. At some point, Karlene slipped away. “Where’s Karlene?” Veyla asked, already suspecting that her soft-spoken, curious sister was chasing some mischief. Nyra just shrugged. Selene, unbothered, beckoned Nyra over to try on a row of masks, her laughter rising like bells above the chatter. Veyla sighed. Why did she always feel like the anxious one? She tilted her head up to the night sky, a velvet canvas dotted with stars and a silver crescent moon. The air nipped at her cheeks, sharp but bearable. It was cold, but it was beautiful. She let herself smile and brushed the worry from her brow. Soon, the tension slipped away completely. Drawn by the rhythm, Veyla joined a circle of dancers twirling in the town square, where the people clapped, raised mugs of mead, and called out in praise. The music thrummed through her body like a heartbeat. There was nothing Veyla loved more than dancing, she could do it in her sleep. It wasn’t just a pastime. It was joy and breathe By now, all of Duskari knew her as the Dancing Princess. Clad in a flowing gown of yellow cream, she climbed the platform and began to sing and sway, her arms sweeping like silk in the wind. The crowd roared their approval. More people gathered. Applause rose like thunder. And then, as her final note rang out, a hush fell. “It’s like watching the goddess,” someone said, and Veyla flushed. She hurried down from the platform as more praises followed. Slipping into the cover her sisters provided, she endured the soft chuckles rising from Selene. “She’s so shy,” someone else called out. “The man who marries Princess Veyla of Duskari will be the luckiest man alive.” His grin won laughter and more cheers. “Let’s leave,” Veyla whispered, tugging on Selene’s sleeve, her face turned away from the crowd. Selene moved with her as they threaded through the throng and stepped into a quieter clearing between stalls. “You always dance like no one’s watching,” Selene teased. “Like you’re under some kind of spell. And then when it’s over, you shrink like a wilted flower.” “I’d like to learn that dance, Veyla,” said Nyra, her voice bright with admiration. Veyla slipped an arm around her younger sister’s narrow shoulders. “Of course. I’ll teach you and Aeris tomorrow.” “Don’t teach me, I don’t like dancing,” came a bubbly, breathless voice. Their littlest sister burst into view, her thick, red hair tangled with dirt. The Beloved Princess of Duskari. Somehow, she always managed to look like she’d fought a tree and lost. Selene’s voice rose in exasperation. “Aeris! Why are you already covered in dirt?” One hand landed on her hip. “You’re going to need another bath when we get home.” “I’m perfectly fine,” Aeris said, waving her off. “Selene, just let me be, I want to go running.” Without warning, she took off at a sprint. “That girl,” Selene muttered, clearly at a loss. But the mischief drew a smile to Veyla’s face. “Why can’t she be more like Nyra…” Selene added under her breath. “I’ll go catch her!” Nyra shouted, and suddenly she was tearing off after her sister. “Should we let them go?” Veyla asked, her smile fading as she watched them race beyond the ring of festival lights. Her brow pinched. “They’re heading too far out.” “Let’s go after them,” Selene agreed, and the two sisters set off, walking briskly along the stone roads until they reached the outer gates of the city. Beyond that point, the land fell into darkness. “I don’t believe they would go this far,” Selene said, her voice quieter now, wary as she scanned the empty road ahead. “I think so too,” Veyla murmured, tucking a wind-tossed strand of hair behind her ear. The cold was sharper out here, the silence heavier. “Let’s turn back,” Selene said at last, already stepping toward the glow and noise behind them. But then Veyla paused. A sound carried on the wind, light, airy, laughter. Distant, but clear. “Selene,” she said quietly. “I think I hear them.” Selene stopped and turned. She listened. But the laughter had faded, replaced by the mournful whistle of wind through bare trees. “I hear nothing,” she said. But Veyla could’ve sworn it. She could’ve sworn it with her life. “Perhaps it was an Elarion,” Selene offered. “I’ve heard stories of people being deceived by voices at night.” “And then what happened?” Veyla asked, her curiosity piqued. “And then nothing,” Selene replied. “They searched, but found no one.” She turned her gaze to the hills. “It’s getting too late. Let’s split up and look for them. I’ll go that way, ” she pointed uphill and you check around the corner, near the little houses.” Veyla nodded. She watched Selene disappear into the darkness before her thoughts circled back to the voices. It had sounded exactly like Aeris. Why would it sound like that? She turned, and nearly screamed.