The evening bell had not yet rung, yet the sky was already turning dark with unsettling haste. In the inner courtyard of the Sanctum Tower, a few knights sat along the stone benches beneath the old gray tree. From where I stood at the high tower, I could see the commoners beginning to gather at the church__it was almost time for vespers.
I had been standing there for quite some time now. Unlike in the castle, here there was little to do other than pray from dawn to dusk, ask questions that no one seemed willing to answer, and endure the dull ache and discomfort of the poison still lingering on my wrist.
With a quiet sigh, I took a deep breath and cast one last glance at the knights below, the only source of mild entertainment I had today__before turning away.
I walked through the nave as the sun dipped below the horizon, the faint golden light spilling through the stained glass windows. The beautiful echo of the choir filled the wide hall, their voices rising in sacred harmony. Inside the nave, only a few worshippers knelt in quiet devotion. The evening mass hadn't yet begun. And before entering, I had covered my hair with a large scarf. Everyone in the kingdom could recognize me instantly by my blood-red hair__the mark of my lineage. So whenever I went out, I always kept it hidden. In disguise, I could at least walk unnoticed.
I looked up toward the sanctuary, no priest stood there yet. Father Simon was supposed to lead the evening mass, and I intended to meet him afterward. There were so many questions still gnawing at my mind. But since the mass hadn't begun, I decided to stroll around the church__something I hadn't done since morning due to my scattered thoughts. Earlier, I had gone straight to the Sanctum Tower, and they had allowed me through. Hopefully, they would let me roam again. Moreover if I was to remain here for the next twenty-eight days, they might as well let me feel at home.
I wandered through the cloisters, where the faint scent of incense lingered in the air. The soft chant of the choir could still be heard from afar, flowing through the stone corridors like a calm river. Everywhere I looked, people moved with quiet purpose, nuns carrying baskets of herbs, monks walking with scrolls in hand, acolytes lighting candles along the passageways, and lay workers repairing wooden benches and sweeping the tiled floor.
There was no idle chatter, no laughter, no gossip, only the steady rhythm of work and the distant hum of hymns. It was peaceful, yet almost haunting in its silence. It was all so different from the castle, where greetings and bows followed me at every turn, where whispers trailed behind my back like perfume. Here, no one bowed. No one looked too long. Everyone moved with purpose, as if bound by a silent vow of devotion. For the first time in a while, I felt unseen.
Eventually, I found myself standing before a small chapel at the far end of the cloister, the air was cool and dim, lit only by rows of flickering candles that cast golden halos across the dark stone walls.
I knelt in the chapel before the altar, clasping my hands tightly as I shut my eyes and tried to meditate__for what felt like forever.
Finally, I parted my lips to whisper a prayer, but my thoughts were anything but peaceful. Instead of praying, I found myself bargaining with the Heavens.
"If only I had been born like every other child in this world," I sighed softly, "I wouldn't be in this situation right now. My kingdom has just suffered a siege, and my father is there, alone. I should be with him, I'm his only family left, But instead I'm supposed to be here doing... this?. Why am I even here? I dont believe what anyone else tells me… I want to hear it from you directly."
My voice trembled slightly as I continued, "If I'm truly meant to be here right now, instead of where I believe I should be... then send me a sign. A whisper, a light… anything."
I hesitated, then cracked one eye open, glancing around. All I saw was the warm flicker of candlelight swallowed by deep shadows.
"Maybe… make one of the candles go out?" I whispered nervously, my eyes darting from flame to flame. The longer I stared, the more it felt like the shadow was creeping in__slowly devouring the light one breath at a time.
The shadows seemed to thicken, the air growing colder, the light dimming until the chapel felt swallowed by night.
Perhaps I wasn't ready for this after all. I wasn't ready for any sign.
My gaze darted to the door—it was closed.
"Oh Heavens... " I muttered in a trembling voice. ""Perhaps... perhaps not now. I only meant it as a suggestion." I swallowed hard, glancing toward the candles that flickered lower. "If there must be a sign, then maybe... tomorrow? At dawn, perhaps? When I am less__" I took a shaky breath, "__frightened out of my wits."
Suddenly, the air turned cold. A shiver crawled up my spine as the hairs on my arms stood tall. I could feel it__something in the room. Something that wasn't candlelight or shadow. I snapped my eyes open with a sharp gasp.
What is this? A Nharoth again? The thought made my pulse quicken. I wanted to cry, perhaps even scream, why must it always be me? But I dared not. If that monstrous creature was truly here again, then I needed to be ready__at least in theory. My body, however, had other plans. My hands trembled, my knees refused to move, and my lungs felt as though the air itself had turned to stone.
Fear crawled up my spine. I wanted to scream, to run—but my body refused to move. My chest tightened, my hands trembled.
Father always said my fate would draw danger to me. I never truly believed it—but perhaps now, I do.
If he did too, he would've brought me a knight to teach me how to fight, instead of the catechist who only filled my head with prayers and sacred words.
I stayed frozen on the cold floor, hoping whatever presence was near would just leave.
Maybe i am being Paranoid but I could swear something... or someone, was standing there. Watching. Waiting.
And strangely enough, with all this trembling fear, my mind drifted to that mysterious knight who saved me that night. Of all times to think of him! Yet, somewhere deep within me, I hoped he would appear again__perhaps strike down this one before it began whatever torment it had planned.
Then I paused, listening.
One thing I have always trusted more than any priest or prophecy is my instinct. It's sharp—sharp enough to tell a bad person from a worse one. I never told my father, of course. If I did, he'd run to Father Martin, and before I knew it, I'd be kneeling through half a dozen prayers and ceremonies claiming 'the chosen one's gift has finally awakened' .
They've been waiting for a sign all my life, and if I so much as sneeze strangely, they might call it divine revelation.
But no__this isn't a gift. It's a talent. The rare art of true instinct
And right now, that instinct was whispering something peculiar. This presence… it felt evil, yet harmless. Dangerous, yet oddly safe. The same feeling I had when that knight first appeared__both light and shadow wrapped in one.
"What if…" My eyes shifted toward the corner where I felt the weight of its presence. "What if… he's here?"
The faint sound of a footstep reached my ears__soft, deliberate, and too close for comfort. My breath caught as the old wooden door creaked, slowly opening on its own.
A sharp scream tore from my throat before I even realized it, echoing off the stone walls. And then, as if mocking my terror, the church bells began to toll—loud, deep, and hollow—sending my heart straight to my feet. I didn't wait to see what came next; my legs decided before my mind did, carrying me out of the chapel in a blur.
By the time I stopped, I found myself breathless at the hallway balcony. The night sky above was heavy and dark, the crescent moon doing little to soften it. The courtyard below was lit by torches, their flames swaying with the wind like restless spirits. Yet, I thought bitterly, the light only made the darkness worse. It didn't chase it away, it made it visible.
And then I saw it.
A tall, dark smoke figure shaped like a man, shifting like a shadow given form.
Its form rippled faintly, as though made of smoke or ink suspended in air. I couldn't make out its eyes, yet somehow, I felt its gaze, steady and unblinking__pulling me in.
It said nothing, but I heard it all the same. A soundless call, like a thought whispered straight into my bones. And there it stood, motionless and waiting.
For a while, I just stared.
After standing there for a moment, I took a hesitant step forward. Then another. Slowly, I began to walk toward it, the presence, still waiting, still unmoving, as if daring me to come closer.
But halfway there, I froze.
A thought struck me so hard it nearly jolted me back a step.
What on earth am I doing?
Why was I walking toward a demon, not away from it?
My mind erupted in a flurry of sensible, rational questions. Every nerve screamed that I should turn around, run, pray, anything but this.
As I stood there, torn between fear and something I couldn't name, I suddenly heard my name __ clear and urgent:
"Princess Elowen!"
I turned sharply. Standing at the foot of the stone stairs was Sister Dorathy __ one of the nuns from the abbey, and someone I'd grown quite close to over the years of constantly visiting the cathedral. She had taken the role of my lady-in-waiting for the day, attending to me since morning__brushing out my hair, helping lace my gown, ensuring my veil sat just right, and preparing the day's schedule in that quiet, dutiful way of hers.
Now she stood there, breathless and worried. From the look on her face it was clear she'd been searching for me.
She hurried toward me, her pace quick, reminding me of my governess, Idella, whenever she caught me sneaking sweets before supper.
"Where have you been, Your Highness? Everyone's been looking for you" she said, her brow furrowed.
"Oh… I—" I glanced back toward the dark corner.
It was empty.
The shadow was gone.
"I was just… praying," I managed to say.
Sister Dorathy glanced past me toward the same corner, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. Without another word, she took my hand firmly and guided me away.
"The mass has already begun, Your Highness," she murmured, her tone both gentle and scolding. "You shouldn't be wandering about."
---
By the time we returned to the nave, the mass was nearly over.
Father Simon stood at the sanctuary, his voice calm and deep as he gave the final words of the sermon. The tourches cast his shadow long across the floor as everyone listened in silence.
When the mass ended, the crowd dispersed__each family carrying a torch as they made their way out into the night.
I stayed behind at the entrance, waiting for Father Simon.
Sister Dorathy beside me sighed quietly. "Your Highness, perhaps you should wait until tomorrow. It's late, and the priests are having a meeting tonight."
"I won't take long, Sister," I replied. "I just have a few questions for Father Simon."