The Truth Unveiled

Agnes' sanctuary felt like a place frozen in time. The air inside was thick with an ancient power, humming softly in the glow of countless runes etched into the stone walls. Shelves lined with worn tomes, aged scrolls, and mystical artifacts surrounded them, each carrying secrets older than the kingdom itself.

Mekeala stood in the center of it all, her heart pounding against her ribs. She had come for answers, for truth—and now, standing before the legendary Caelithar Witch, she would finally receive them.

Agnes' sharp gaze settled on her. "You've come far, child. But knowledge is not a gift—it is a burden. Once you hear the truth, there is no turning back."

Mekeala swallowed but held her ground. "I need to know."

Agnes nodded solemnly. "Then listen carefully."

The flickering light of the enchanted lanterns cast long shadows across the stone chamber as Agnes stepped toward an ancient wooden table. With deliberate movements, she unrolled a fragile parchment, revealing faded, intricate symbols that pulsed faintly with magic.

"Grace, the daughter of a goddess, was never meant to pass on her power," Agnes began, her voice calm yet weighted with centuries of history. "She was a bridge between the divine and the mortal, her bloodline only meant to carry echoes of that power, never the power itself."

Mekeala's breath caught. "Then why do I have it?"

Agnes' eyes hardened. "Because something awoke it inside you. Something unnatural."

A tense silence followed.

Ezekeil's grip on his sword tightened. "So she was never supposed to have this power?"

Agnes shook her head. "No. And because of that, the world will not allow you to exist peacefully. You are a threat to the order that was meant to be."

Mekeala's fingers curled into fists. She wasn't just a princess. She was a mistake. An anomaly.

But then… why did this power feel so much like her own?

Maya stepped forward, her voice barely above a whisper. "The prophecy. Tell us all of it."

Agnes let out a slow breath, turning her gaze back to the parchment before her. "The prophecy does not simply speak of an heir rising against a king. It speaks of two possible outcomes."

Her fingers traced the faded ink as she recited:

> "From Grace's line, a child shall rise,

With power untamed, beneath the skies.

A force to challenge, a will unbent,

Their destiny, the world will lament."

Mekeala felt a chill creep up her spine.

"What does it mean?" she asked, though part of her already knew.

Agnes met her gaze, eyes sharp as steel. "It means that your existence is a turning point. Either you learn to control your power and reshape the kingdom's fate… or—"

Jack exhaled sharply. "Or what?"

"Or your power is taken from you, and the world falls into an age of war and chaos."

The chamber fell into complete silence.

Mekeala clenched her fists. "King Caesar knows, doesn't he?"

Agnes gave a slow nod. "Yes. And that is why he fears you more than anything."

Ezekeil's voice was like ice. "Then why bind her to me? Why force us into this?"

Agnes studied him for a long moment before answering. "Because the bond was never about uniting two houses. It was about controlling her."

Mekeala's breath hitched.

"The ritual was meant to stabilize her power," Agnes continued. "If you remain loyal to her, her magic stays contained. But if you betray her… or if you die…"

She let the unspoken truth hang in the air.

Maya gasped, realization dawning in her eyes. "Her power would spiral out of control."

Agnes nodded. "Yes. The binding ritual was never meant to protect either of you—it was meant to ensure that if Mekeala became a threat, she could be eliminated."

Ezekeil's jaw clenched. His entire life, he had accepted the bond as duty, never questioning it. But now, knowing that it was designed as a leash—

He turned to Mekeala, golden eyes burning with a fierce promise. "I won't let them use you like that."

Mekeala's chest tightened. Even after everything, he still stood by her side. Not because of duty, but because he chose to.

And that choice meant everything.

Jack ran a hand through his hair, frustration laced in his tone. "So that bastard king bound Mekeala just to keep her from reaching her full potential. But I'm guessing that's not his only plan."

Agnes nodded gravely. "No. Lord Cedric is working on something in the elf village."

She moved toward another map spread across the table. Certain locations were marked with residual magic, but one symbol in particular glowed faintly.

Mekeala felt a strange pull toward it.

"What is this?" Ezekeil asked.

Agnes' voice was grave. "The elves guard an ancient power—one capable of subjugating even divine magic. If Lord Cedric succeeds in harnessing it…"

Mekeala felt her stomach sink. "Then they won't need me anymore."

Agnes nodded. "They will take your power by force."

Jack muttered a curse under his breath. "And we thought things couldn't get worse."

Agnes turned to Mekeala, her expression unreadable.

"There are two paths before you," she said. "You can return to the Enchanted Forest, where you may find a way to control what is inside you before it consumes you."

She hesitated. "Or you can go after King Caesar and Lord Cedric now—before they finish their plans."

A heavy silence followed.

Mekeala felt the weight of every gaze on her. This was it. The moment she could no longer run from her destiny.

If she left, she might gain the strength to truly fight.

But if she stayed, she could stop her enemies before it was too late.

Ezekeil's voice was quiet but firm. "Whatever you choose, we fight together."

Jack sighed, crossing his arms. "Both choices sound terrible."

Maya gave a small nod. "But this is bigger than us now."

Mekeala stared at the glowing symbol on the map—the place where her power, her fate, would be decided.

She took a slow, steady breath.

"I've made my choice."

The room fell silent.

The path was set.

And there was no turning back.