Midnight Shadow

As the sun reached its peak, the next day, the palace gates, adorned with two colossal swords, crossed in a majestic arc, that stood tall and imposing were opened.

The silver sword, symbolizing purity, uprightness, and justice, gleamed with a radiant light, its sharp, massive blade etched with ancient runes in gold, a testament to the kingdom's revered history.

The golden sword, representing strength, courage, and loyalty, shone with a warm, sun-kissed glow, its own sharp blade adorned with silver etchings of an ancient language, its secrets and stories whispered to those who dared to listen.

Two guards, clad in ornate armor, marched forward in unison and grasped the heavy iron handles. With a synchronized heave, they pushed the gates open, revealing a sea of expectant faces.

The inhabitants of Azuraea kingdom poured in, their murmurs and whispers filling the air. They gathered in the grand courtyard, their eyes fixed on the majestic stage before them.

The king and queen's thrones, crafted from black iron and adorned with intricate gold filigree, sat atop a raised dais, exuding an aura of power and authority.

As the crowd settled, the royal family emerged from the palace. King Valtor and Queen Vynessa led the procession, their regal attire shimmering in the sunlight.

Astrid and Zulin followed closely behind, their elegant gowns rustling softly as they walked. The royal family marched forward with an air of command and authority, their very presence commanding attention.

As they reached the dais, the crowd bowed slightly, acknowledging their presence.

The king and queen took their seats upon their thrones, while Astrid and Zulin stood beside them, their eyes scanning the crowd.

The priest, a tall, imposing figure with a stern expression, stepped forward, bowing slightly to the royal family to show his respect.

He had long grey hair that cascaded down his back, reaching past his knees, a testament to his devotion and adherence to the ancient traditions of the kingdom.

As the head priest of the temple, he was bound by a sacred vow to let his hair grow, cutting it only during the sacred rituals that took place once a decade.

He wore long, flowing robes of deep purple, intricately embroidered with golden thread, symbolizing his spiritual authority and connection to the divine.

Around his neck, he wore a delicate, beaded chain, adorned with a large, ornate cross, its surface etched with ancient runes.

The beads, made of polished ebony wood, seemed to absorb the light around them, giving the impression of deep, spiritual wisdom.

In his hand, he grasped a sacred relic, a string of polished, crystal beads, each one embossed with a tiny, intricate cross.

The relic seemed to glow with an otherworldly energy, as if it held the power to purify and protect.

The priest's eyes, piercing and wise, seemed to bore into the souls of those before him, as if searching for any hint of deceit or corruption.

The air was heavy with anticipation, the crowd's collective breath bated as they awaited the proceedings.

The king's decree had been clear: Princess Zulin was to be tested, and the truth would finally be revealed.

Lord Avem, the king's trusted advisor, stepped forward, his voice booming across the courtyard. "We are gathered here today, as you all know, to address the grave concerns surrounding the royal family. The king has called upon the esteemed Priest Thorold to guide us through this process and uncover the truth."

With a slight bow to the king, Lord Ravenswood stepped aside, his eyes scanning the crowd.

King Valtor's voice rang out, "Priest Thorold, I believe you are aware of the reason for your presence here today."

Priest Thorold, his grey hair cascading down his back, bowed his head slightly. "Yes, Your Majesty. The details were clear in the message I received yesterday. I am prepared to proceed."

The king nodded, his eyes locked on Priest Thorold, and with a subtle hand gesture, he beckoned Princess Zulin forward.

She stepped out from beside her mother, Queen Vynessa, and bowed slightly to her father before standing tall in front of Priest Thorold, her eyes fixed on the priest's wise and compassionate face.

Priest Thorold nodded gently to Princess Zulin before turning to his servant, who stood nearby.

The servant quickly unfolded a mat and laid it out on the floor, smoothing out the wrinkles with a delicate touch.

The priest gestured to the mat, his eyes never leaving the princess. "Please, Princess Zulin, sit down in a lotus position."

As she began to move towards the mat, the priest's hand shot out, his fingers closing around her wrist.

Zulin's eyes snapped up to his, a questioning gaze sparkling within them. Priest Thorold's piercing eyes seemed to bore into her very soul, as if searching for a hidden truth.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the air thick with tension.

Zulin's stare was one of confusion and wonder, her eyebrows slightly furrowed as she tried to comprehend the intensity of the priest's gaze.

Her eyes, wide with curiosity, seemed to ask a silent question: "Why are you staring at me like that?"

The priest's expression, however, remained unreadable, his eyes never wavering from hers.

Then, in an instant, something flickered in the priest's eyes - a fleeting glimmer of surprise, of trepidation, of fear. It was as if he had seen something he would rather not have seen, something that filled him with a sense of foreboding.

But the moment passed, and his expression smoothed back out into a mask of composure.

"Your Highness," he repeated, his voice low and soothing. "Sit down."

Zulin's eyes lingered on his for a moment, as if searching for answers to unspoken questions.

Then, with a subtle nod, she sat down on the mat, her legs crossing in a graceful lotus position.

Her hands came together in a prayer-like gesture, and she closed her eyes, her face a picture of serene calmness

Priest Thorold's gaze remained fixed on Zulin as he began to walk around her in a slow, deliberate circle.

His voice rose and fell in a hypnotic cadence as he chanted ancient words of power, the air around them seeming to vibrate with an otherworldly energy.

Zulin's eyes remained closed, her breathing slow and steady. Her hands, still clasped together, began to glow with a soft, ethereal light.

The light grew brighter and brighter, illuminating the surrounding area and casting an eerie glow over the faces of the onlookers.

As the light intensified, it seemed to push back against the force of the priest's chant. Priest Thorold's voice faltered, his words becoming strained and labored.

His eyes flashed with a mixture of surprise and concern as he struggled to maintain the rhythm of his chant.

Zulin's body began to twitch and tremble, her face scrunching up in a frown as if she was battling some inner turmoil.

Her eyes remained closed, but her eyelids fluttered wildly, as if trying to keep pace with the turmoil brewing within her.

Suddenly, she began to mutter, her voice barely audible at first, but growing louder and more urgent. "Stop...stop...stop chanting...stop!"

Her body tossed about, still trapped in the lotus position, with visible sweat now trickling down her face, as if some unseen force was wrestling for control.

The crowd watched in rapt attention, their faces frozen in a mixture of awe and fear.

Why was she glowing like that?? Was she really not human?!

King Valtor's eyes narrowed, his grip on the armrest of his throne tightening as he watched his daughter struggle against some unseen force.

Queen Vynessa's face was pale and worried, her eyes fixed on Zulin with a deep concern.

Astrid's eyes locked onto her father's, pleading with him to intervene.

She was growing increasingly worried, her concern for Zulin's well-being evident on her face.

She bit her lip, struggling to contain her emotions, as she silently implored her father to stop the ritual.

She knew she couldn't speak out of turn, not here, not now. As a princess, she was expected to maintain a dignified silence, especially in formal settings like this.

Her father, the king, was the ultimate authority, and it was his place to give orders, not hers.

Astrid's gaze never wavered from her father's face, willing him to take action.

She knew her mother, Queen Vynessa, usually spoke sparingly in her father's presence, leaving important decisions and pronouncements to him.

But Astrid hoped her father would sense just intervene to stop the ritual before it was too late.

King Valtor's expression remained stoic, but Astrid detected a flicker of concern in his eyes.

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the armrests of his throne, his eyes fixed intently on Priest Thorold.

The air was thick with tension as everyone waited with bated breath to see what would happen next.

The way things were already turning out wasn't looking quite good and of course, Ryker was around as well looking like he had great concern for Zulin but those who know him knew better than to believe his fake face.