Chapter 3 The Test Of Truth

Elara’s heart pounded violently against her ribs. She couldn't show him. She knew exactly what was hidden under the cheap brown cloth. It was a dark, ink-like mark shaped like a crescent moon, surrounded by tiny, jagged lines. She had asked the old woman about it once when she was a child. The woman had gone pale as snow, slapped Elara’s hand away, and warned her never to let a soul in the palace see it.

“If they see this,” the old woman had whispered, “they will destroy you.”

“I cannot,” Elara whispered, taking a step backward.

The king’s expression hardened into pure ice. “You refuse an order from your king?”

“I... I am sorry,” she stammered, tears pricking her eyes. “Please.”

Kael turned to his father. “Father, wait. She is terrified. Look at her.”

“She should be frightened if she is harboring dark secrets in my home,” the king snapped. He turned his harsh gaze back to Elara. “Pull up your sleeve.”

“Father, let me talk to her—” Kael began.

“Silence, Kael!”

Elara looked up at Prince Kael. For a brief second, their eyes locked. Unlike the anger on the king's face or the contempt on Liora's, Kael’s expression held no malice. He looked deeply confused, yet strangely gentle. For a fleeting moment, she felt a tiny spark of warmth in the cold room.

Then, the mark flared again.

This time, the magic could not be contained. A bright strand of blue light seeped through the threads of her cotton sleeve, glowing clearly for everyone in the room to see.

Liora gasped, pointing a finger. “Magic! She has magic!”

The hall burst into utter chaos.

“Forbidden magic!” a noble shouted.

“She is an illegal mage!” another cried, scrambling back toward the doors.

Elara panicked, shaking her head wildy. “No! I don't—I don't know what this is!”

“Take her!” King Aldric ordered, waving his hand toward the royal guards stationed at the doors.

Two heavily armored guards marched toward her, drawing their leather restraints.

“Please!” Elara cried, taking another step back until her spine hit the heavy wooden dining table. “I haven't done anything wrong!”

The first guard reached out and grabbed her left arm tightly, right over the glowing mark.

The moment his iron-gloved hand clamped down on the burning skin, a massive blast of blue kinetic energy burst outward from Elara’s wrist. The force hit the guard like a rushing wave. He was lifted off his feet and thrown backward, crashing hard against a heavy oak table before hitting the stone floor, unconscious.

Screams echoed through the grand hall. Nobles scrambled for the exits, pushing past one another in panic.

Elara stared at her hand, horrified, her hands trembling violently. “I... I didn't do that! I didn't mean to!”

The second guard drew his steel sword with a sharp clink, raising the blade toward her throat.

In a flash, Kael stepped between the guard's blade and Elara, drawing his own sword to block the guard's path. “Put your weapon away!”

“Your Highness, she attacked a guard!” the man yelled over the noise.

“It was an accident! Put the steel away!” Kael ordered, his voice echoing with unmistakable authority. He slowly turned his head to look at Elara. She was crying, shaking uncontrollably, looking small and broken amidst the chaos. He took a slow breath. He didn't see a threat. He saw a scared girl.

King Aldric stepped past the scattering court, his face pale with rage and lingering fear. The king was afraid—Elara could see it in the tight lines around his eyes. A magic user had been living right beneath his roof, unsuspected for years.

“Lock her in the old stone dungeon beneath the east wing,” the king commanded grimly.

Kael turned sharply to his father. “Father, no! She doesn't understand what is happening to her! Putting her in a cell won't help!”

“It will keep my kingdom safe,” the king replied sternly. “She is a dangerous anomaly. Lock her away until the high council arrives.”

“She is just a girl!” Kael argued, stepping closer to his father.

“You know nothing about what she truly is!” King Aldric barked. He gestured to four more guards, who slowly surrounded Elara with long wooden pikes, keeping their distance so as not to trigger another blast. “Move her. Now.”

Elara offered no resistance as the guards escorted her out of the hall. She was too numb, too overwhelmed by shock to fight back. As she was marched through the heavy archway, she turned her head to look back one last time.

Prince Kael was still standing in the center of the room, watching her go with a deeply troubled expression. Beside him, Lady Liora watched the guards haul Elara away. But Liora wasn't afraid. A subtle, cold smile touched the edges of her lips. She looked thoroughly satisfied.

Elara felt her stomach drop. Liora hadn't just suspected her—she had wanted this outcome all along.

The guards shoved her down a dark, winding stone staircase that led deep into the bowels of the palace. The noise of the panic upstairs faded away, replaced by the damp, heavy silence of the underground corridors. Water dripped rhythmically from the cold stone walls.

As they walked, Elara looked down at her wrist. The blue light beneath her sleeve had softened into a gentle, rhythmic pulse. The sharp pain was gone, replaced by a strange, buzzing energy that hummed right beneath her pulse point.

She touched the cloth lightly with her opposite hand. “What are you?” she whispered under her breath.

The mark gave a sharp, warm pulse in response.

Then, a sudden sound echoed—not through the cold hallway, but directly inside her own head. It was a faint, echoing whisper, ancient and resonant, vibrating behind her eyes.

Run.

Elara stopped dead in her tracks.

The guard behind her shoved her shoulder roughly. “Keep moving, maid! What are you stopping for?”

Elara barely felt the shove. Her heart slammed against her ribs as the voice echoed through her mind a second time, louder and far more urgent than before.

Run. They are coming to kill you.