Return of The Queen

As the group entered the grand palace of Shambhala, Ysabel felt an overwhelming sense of familiarity, as though she had returned home after a long and arduous journey. The air was thick with the scent of exotic blossoms, and the gentle sound of flowing water echoed through the marbled halls. Each step she took seemed guided by an invisible force, drawing her deeper into the heart of the palace.

Suddenly, a soft voice echoed in her mind, a voice that was both familiar and ancient. "Come to me," it whispered, beckoning her forward with an irresistible pull. "It has been so long since I have heard from you, my dear child. Despite the distance between us, I have never stopped looking out for you."

Ysabel paused, her breath catching in her throat as the voice continued. "After centuries of traveling, we are finally reunited." The words resonated deep within her, stirring memories she couldn't quite grasp, as though they were just beyond her reach.

Alasteir, the young Haiku Regent, noticed her hesitation and approached her with a respectful bow. "Your Grace," he said warmly, "I will be honored to guide you to the hall of the throne. There, we shall provide you with refreshments, and I will present you with the Queen's stele, upon which the prophecy is inscribed."

The group followed Alasteir through the palace, but Ysabel was drawn elsewhere. Her feet carried her down a different path, away from the others, until she found herself in a secluded garden.

 A beautiful fountain, adorned with intricate carvings, stood at its center. Surrounding the fountain were vibrant flowers, their petals glistening with dew. In the middle of the fountain was a statue of three children playing together, their faces frozen in expressions of pure joy.

A plaque at the base of the statue read, "In memory of Lisana, Titheus, and Nova." Ysabel's heart clenched as she gazed at the sculpture, her mind flooded with memories of her childhood.

As she stood there, lost in the bittersweet memories of her past, something shifted in the air. Her body tensed as a strange energy began to swirl around her, drawing her toward the center of the garden. Her eyes glowed with a brilliant golden hue, and ancient words, long forgotten, spilled from her lips in a haunting incantation.

Before her, a door materialized, shimmering with the light of a thousand stars. Beyond the door, she glimpsed an entire galaxy, swirling with cosmic energy. A small, ornate box hovered out from the gateway, settling gently into her hands. As soon as the box made contact with her skin, the door vanished, leaving her alone in the tranquil garden.

When Ysabel regained her senses, she realized that everyone around her had fallen to their knees in reverence. Even Princess Ellis, who had been so composed and confident, was now murmuring, "Mother was right... Mother was right..."

Alasteir approached her with a look of awe and respect. "The prophecy speaks of a ruler chosen by the Heart of Orion, one with extraordinary powers yet to be fully realized. Your Grace, you have been chosen by the Heart of Orion, and your true potential is only beginning to manifest."

Ysabel looked down at the box in her hands, feeling its weight, both literal and metaphorical. The air around it seemed charged with electricity, and the box itself was made of a material that defied description—an otherworldly blend of black metal and opaque crystal that absorbed the light around it.

Alasteir continued, "When the Queen vanished, the Heart of Orion disappeared with her. For centuries, our most elite soldiers searched for it, but all they found were rumors and speculation. Now, it has returned, and with it, so has our hope."

Before Ysabel could respond, a sudden, violent tremor shook the palace. The ground beneath them rumbled as if the very earth were groaning in pain. Ellis's eyes widened with alarm, and she clutched her chest. "Something's wrong," she gasped. "I can't feel my sister Armyt's spirit anymore. I must go to her."

Without another word, Ellis turned and sprinted from the palace, her movements swift and determined. Ysabel and the others watched her go, their hearts heavy with dread. But their attention was soon drawn back to the box in Ysabel's hands as the sky outside the palace suddenly darkened, the light vanishing as if swallowed by an abyss.

The darkness was so profound that it felt as if night had fallen in an instant. The palace guards, along with the remaining members of the group, rushed to the garden where Ysabel stood, their faces etched with fear and confusion.

Ysabel, still holding the box, looked up at the darkened sky, her heart pounding in her chest. The power within the box seemed to pulse in rhythm with her own heartbeat, and she knew that whatever lay ahead, her destiny was now irrevocably tied to the Heart of Orion.

As the others knelt around her, murmuring prayers and words of reverence, Ysabel felt a surge of determination. She had been chosen for a reason. The battle was far from over, and she would need every ounce of strength, wisdom, and courage to face what was to come.

Suddenly, the soldiers felt the ground shaking violently, accompanied by a thick, suffocating air with a foul smell. Panic spread among them, especially when one soldier under General Carter's command grabbed his head in fear.

He began to scream, a horrifying, guttural sound that sent chills down the spines of everyone present. Dark liquid started to leak from his eyes, a sinister black ooze that defied explanation. His body convulsed violently as the corruption spread, overtaking him completely. The pressure within him built rapidly until his body could no longer contain it.

With a sickening, wet explosion, the soldier's body burst apart, spraying the area with dark, oily substance. From the horrific cloud of black smoke that rose from his remains, a figure began to take shape, coalescing into a solid form. The dark cloud swirled with evil energy, growing denser and more oppressive by the second.

Emerging from the swirling darkness was Nergal, The God of Death, Pestilence, and Plague, and Lord of the Underworld. His presence was a physical weight, pressing down on all those nearby, as if the air itself had been poisoned by his arrival. His towering form exuded an overwhelming sense of dread, his very being a manifestation of all that was death and decay.

As Nergal descended fully from the darkened sky, the ground beneath him cracked and splintered, the earth itself recoiling from the touch of this ancient and malevolent force. His eyes burned with a sickly yellow glow, surveying the battlefield with cold indifference, as though he were already deciding who among them would die first.

Ysabel gripped the box tightly in her hands, her heart pounding as she stared at the God of Death. The prophecy had begun, and there was no turning back.

Meanwhile, Ellis arrived on the battlefield, her heart pounding with fear and grief. She spotted Armyt lying unconscious among the chaos, her body still but alive. But even more painfully, Ellis felt the sudden, devastating void where her mother's energy had once been. The realization hit her like a physical blow—Shiondreil was gone.

Overcome with emotion, Ellis collapsed to her knees beside her sister, tears streaming down her face. The loss of their mother, combined with the sight of Armyt lying defenseless, shattered her composure. She wept openly, her grief raw and unrestrained, her cries echoing across the battlefield.