Descendants of Mother Nature

Shadowfall

My father—the king—lay sprawled on the cold marble floor, his crown knocked loose,his sword out of reach.Blood

seeped from the corner of his mouth,trailing into his beard, and his eyes...gods,his eyes were black. Not like bruises.Like ink.Like something had hollowed them out from within.

“No—no,no,no...”

I dropped to my knees, hands shaking as I cradled his head into my lap.He felt heavy.Too heavy.

“Father?” My voice broke.“Father, please—say something...”

He moved—barely.His mouth opened as if it pained him to even breathe.I bent lower, trying to hear him, trying to

hold him together even though everything in me was coming undone.

He coughed,and blood flecked his lips.

Then—just two words.

“Run...hide...”

And then...nothing.

His eyes went glassy.His chest stopped moving.And I couldn’t feel anything beneath my fingers but cold skin and

the sharp ache of goodbye.

“Please...please don’t go—”I pressed my forehead to his,tears falling onto his cheek like they could bring him back.

“Please...”

Then I heard it.

A scream.

High.Sharp.Familiar.

Mother.

I stood up so fast I stumbled.My boots slipped in the blood as I tore through the corridor, past shattered vases and

cracked pillars.The throne room had been torn open like paper, and the walls groaned like something ancient had

touched them.

I raced up the spiral stairs, heart pounding,swordless,breathless.

When I reached the doorway to their chambers,I froze.

My mother was backed up against the bed,her arms wrapped tightly around my little sister—barely six—her silver hair tangled and wild,her night gown stained with ash.Her eyes were wide,locked on something at the center of the room.Something I couldn’t see from the doorway.

I tried to move forward, but my mother saw me first.

“No—!”she gasped, her eyes snapping to mine.“Run,darling—run!”

The creature must have sensed me then.

It turned.

And though I didn’t see it fully—only the shift of shadows,a shape wrong and unnatural—I felt its gaze.Cold.Sharp.

Ancient.

But my mother was faster.

She threw out her hand, fingers flaring with a burst of golden magic that sparked like a flame desperate to burn.The

creature paused—distracted,just for a second.

It was enough.

In one swift motion,she pushed my sister toward me—hard.I caught her, stumbling back as she clung to me like a

frightened bird.

“Take her,”my mother whispered,her voice fierce.“Run.Now.”

I met her eyes.

And I knew.

I didn’t want to go.

Gods, I didn’t want to leave her.Not after losing Father.Not like this.

But I had to.

For my sister.

For her.

I turned, clutching the princess to my chest, and ran down the corridor as the creature shrieked behind us—its sound not like any animal or man,but like the sky itself tearing.

My sister was crying.I didn’t have time to comfort her.

Only time to run.