The moon hung pale and tired over the kingdom, its light spilling softly through the high windows of Ella's chamber. For three nights, she hadn't slept properly. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the same thing — a circle of fire surrounding her, the Heartstone floating above her palms, pulsing like a living heart. And then, a whisper she couldn't escape: "You cannot hide from what you are."
She would wake up drenched in sweat, the crystal still glowing faintly from her bedside table.
Maeve had ordered her to rest, but how could she? Since the Heartstone's awakening, something inside her had changed. The castle itself felt different. The torches flickered when she walked past. The flowers in the courtyard bent slightly toward her, as if drawn to her energy. Even the guards avoided her eyes now.
Only Lyra dared to stay close.
That morning, Lyra sat cross-legged on Ella's bed, eating from a tray of sweet buns while flipping through an old spell book she had "borrowed" from the library. "You've been staring at that stone all morning," she said, crumbs on her lips. "You think it's going to start talking again?"
Ella smiled weakly. "It doesn't need to talk. I can feel it thinking."
Lyra frowned, closing the book. "You're scaring me when you say things like that."
"I scare myself," Ella whispered, holding the Heartstone gently. Its surface shimmered with faint veins of gold and silver light, like rivers under glass. "It's like it's alive. Like it knows me."
"Or it's using you," Lyra said under her breath.
Ella looked up sharply. "What did you say?"
Lyra hesitated. "I didn't mean it badly. But—look, Maeve's been quiet lately. Too quiet. And those blackbirds that keep landing on your window? They weren't here before. Something's watching you, Ella. I can feel it."
Ella laughed softly, though her voice trembled. "You sound like Maeve now."
"Maybe Maeve's right," Lyra said. "Power like yours doesn't come without a price."
Before Ella could answer, a knock echoed from the door. Three slow, heavy knocks.
Maeve entered. Her dark cloak flowed like water as she stepped inside. "You both need to come with me," she said, her voice calm but urgent. "Now."
Lyra's expression turned serious. "What happened?"
Maeve's eyes flicked toward the Heartstone. "The Council has called for you, Ella. They've seen what happened at the ruins. Word has spread beyond the palace walls. Some are calling you the Lightbearer. Others… something far darker."
Ella's stomach sank. "What do they want from me?"
"To test your loyalty," Maeve said softly. "And your control."
The Council Hall was built entirely from white marble, its walls carved with symbols older than the kingdom itself. Twelve robed figures sat in a crescent around the central dais. Each one watched Ella with the cold, measuring eyes of those who feared what they didn't understand.
Maeve guided her to the center, her hand steady on Ella's shoulder. Lyra stood near the door, nervous but ready to protect her friend.
"Ella Arindale," the High Magister began. His beard was silver, his tone sharp. "You stand before the Council accused of breaking the sacred law — you wielded the Heartstone without sanction."
Ella swallowed hard. "It saved lives. The ruins were collapsing—"
"That is not the question!" another Councilor barked. "The question is how you activated it at all. The Heartstone responds only to those of ancient blood. Yet your records show no lineage of magic."
Maeve's jaw tightened. "Because her bloodline was erased from your records, not from history."
A murmur rippled through the room.
The High Magister raised a hand. "You speak dangerously, Lady Maeve. If this girl truly bears the Arindale blood, then she also bears the curse that destroyed their kind."
"Curses can be broken," Maeve said.
"Or fulfilled."
The air grew colder. Ella felt her pulse quicken. The Heartstone beneath her robe began to glow faintly, reacting to her fear.
"Enough!" the Magister said. "We will see the truth for ourselves."
He motioned to a priestess holding a small obsidian orb. "Place your hand upon the Mirror of Essence, child. It will show us what you truly are."
Ella hesitated. Maeve gave a slow nod. Lyra mouthed, You can do this.
She stepped forward and placed her palm on the orb.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then the room filled with blinding light. The orb flared gold, red, and violet all at once — colors that hadn't been seen in centuries. The walls trembled. Books fell from shelves. The Councilors gasped as the orb cracked, a sound like thunder echoing through the hall.
When the light faded, the orb was shattered. Smoke curled up from Ella's hand, unhurt but glowing faintly.
The Magister's eyes widened. "By the stars… the prophecy…"
Maeve's lips curved faintly. "She is the Arindale heir."
But before anyone could speak again, a sharp wind tore through the hall. The torches went out. The shadows along the walls deepened — and from within them, something moved.
A voice, deep and cold, whispered:
"The Light has awakened… and so must the Shadow."
A dark shape formed near the ceiling — a swirl of smoke and eyes like burning coal. It laughed softly, echoing from every corner of the room.
Councilors screamed spells, lightning flickered, but nothing touched it. The shadow turned toward Ella. "Daughter of fire," it hissed, "you have broken the seal."
Maeve raised her staff, shouting, "Stay back!" But the creature only smiled — if smoke could smile — and vanished into nothing, leaving the scent of ash behind.
Silence followed.
The High Magister clutched his chest, his voice trembling. "We… we have awakened something that should have stayed buried."
Maeve turned to Ella. Her expression was unreadable. "The Heartstone didn't just wake your power," she said softly. "It woke its opposite."
Lyra ran to Ella's side. "What does that mean?"
Maeve looked out toward the darkening sky through the shattered window. "It means the Shadow knows who she is now."
That night, the castle was placed under guard. But no lock or soldier could stop what moved in the wind.
Ella couldn't sleep again. She stood on her balcony, staring at the stars. "Why me?" she whispered. "Why now?"
The Heartstone pulsed faintly against her skin, like a heartbeat answering her own.
Lyra appeared beside her, wrapping a blanket around Ella's shoulders. "Because you're not meant to hide," she said gently. "You're meant to stand."
Ella turned, meeting her friend's steady eyes. "What if I can't?"
Lyra smiled faintly. "Then I'll remind you who you are until you can."
A soft wind rose, carrying distant whispers through the air — voices from the forest, faint but unmistakable. Ella listened, her heart racing.
"Did you hear that?" she asked.
Lyra frowned. "Hear what?"
Ella stepped closer to the railing. "Someone's calling my name…"
And in the reflection of the Heartstone, she saw — just for a second — a pair of glowing red eyes watching her from the forest below.