Time to flee

*

The air in the dark, decrepit throne room was thick with tension, the scent of burnt incense mingling with an undertone of decay. The man on the gothic throne leaned forward, his piercing eyes glowing faintly in the shadows. His gauntleted hand gripped the armrest so tightly that the metal groaned under the strain.

A hooded figure knelt before him, trembling. "My Lord," the figure stammered, "we think we have found her."

The man's voice, deep and commanding, cut through the silence like a blade. "You think? I do not deal in uncertainties. Where is she?"

"She's in Eldoria, my Lord," the figure replied hesitantly. "But…"

"But?" The single word was laced with danger.

The hooded figure swallowed hard. "Eldoria is protected, my Lord. There's a barrier around the village—an ancient one, powerful and unyielding. We cannot enter."

The man's eyes flared with anger, the dim light of the room reflecting off his sharp features. He rose from his throne with an almost ethereal grace, the shadows seeming to swirl around him like a living thing. "Do you take me for a fool?" he snarled, his voice echoing through the chamber. "No barrier is impenetrable. Eldoria's defenses will crumble, as all things do."

"My Lord," the figure said cautiously, "this barrier… it is not of mortal making. It was forged by the gods themselves. It shields her, keeps her hidden. We could not sense her before, and even now, it barely allows us a trace of her presence."

The man's expression darkened, and for a moment, the air seemed to grow colder. He turned away, pacing toward the massive windows that overlooked a desolate, ash-ridden landscape. "So the gods still meddle in my affairs," he murmured, almost to himself. "They have always underestimated me. They think their barriers and wards can hold me at bay."

He spun around, his eyes blazing. "Eldoria will not keep her from me. If the barrier cannot be breached, then we will find another way. Her awakening has begun, and her power will draw her out. She is the key to everything, and I will not be denied."

The hooded figure hesitated, then dared to speak. "What are your orders, my Lord?"

The man's lips curled into a cold, calculating smile. "Send our spies to the outskirts of Eldoria. Observe, but do not act—not yet. I want to know everything: who she speaks to, where she goes, and what she does. If she steps beyond the barrier, I want to be the first to know. Do not fail me."

"Yes, my Lord," the figure said, bowing low before retreating into the shadows.

The man returned to his throne, his gaze distant as he rested his hand over his chest. The burning sensation above his heart had not subsided, a constant reminder of her existence. "Elara," he whispered, the name laced with both longing and menace. "You cannot hide forever. The gods cannot protect you from me. I will find you, and when I do, the power you carry will be mine once more."

The shadows seemed to deepen around him, as if the very room itself hungered for the conflict to come.

*

The days following Grams' revelation were heavy with frustration and uncertainty for Elara. Each morning, she woke with the same burning questions: Why can't I remember more? What do they expect me to do? She spent hours at the temple, her knees pressed into the cold stone floor before the statues of Luna and Veridian. She prayed fervently, her voice sometimes trembling, sometimes breaking.

"Please," she whispered one evening, her hands clasped tightly, "Mother... Father... if that is who you are, guide me. Show me what I need to know. I don't understand my role in this. I don't feel ready for any of it." Her words echoed through the still temple, but no answer came. The statues remained as unmoving and silent as ever.

By the fifth day, her exhaustion had morphed into a restless need for distraction. As the sun rose over Eldoria, painting the skies with hues of gold and amber, Elara made her way to the village square where her friends were already waiting. Their cheerful voices and carefree laughter lightened her mood for the first time in days.

"I thought you'd never get here!" one of the boys teased, his grin wide as he waved her over.

Elara smiled, her heart lifting. "I needed this," she admitted. "Let's do something fun today. No chores. Just... let's forget everything for a while."

The group agreed unanimously, deciding to venture into the woods just outside the village. They often played there, chasing after rabbits or climbing trees. The idea of a carefree afternoon filled Elara with relief. She longed for a moment to simply be.

The woods were alive with the sounds of rustling leaves and distant birdsong. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine and damp earth. The friends fanned out as they pursued small critters, their playful laughter echoing through the trees. Elara found herself smiling, her earlier worries pushed to the back of her mind.

Caught up in the chase, she ventured deeper into the woods. Her steps were light and eager, her eyes fixed on a darting hare. She didn't notice the subtle change in the air as she crossed an invisible line. The moment her foot stepped outside the protective barrier of Eldoria, a chill ran down her spine. It was fleeting, barely noticeable, but it marked a shift.

Far away, in Grams' modest home, the old woman felt it—a ripple in the air, faint but undeniable. Her heart sank as realization dawned. Elara had crossed the barrier.

"No," she whispered, her voice trembling. "She's outside the protection."

Without hesitation, Grams grabbed her shawl and bolted out the door, her aged but determined feet carrying her swiftly toward the woods. Her heart pounded with urgency. She had to reach Elara before it was too late.

Meanwhile, Elara wandered further into the forest, unaware of the barrier she had breached. The trees grew denser, their towering forms casting shadows over the soft forest floor. The hare she'd been chasing disappeared, leaving her standing in a clearing, the silence around her almost unnatural.

She paused, a strange unease prickling at the edges of her mind. For the first time that day, her smile faltered. Why does this place feel different? she wondered, glancing around.

"Elara!" one of her friends called from somewhere behind her. The sound snapped her back to reality. She turned, ready to respond, when a faint, almost imperceptible whisper brushed past her ear.

"Elara..."

She froze, her breath catching. The whisper seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Her hand instinctively went to her chest, where she felt an inexplicable warmth—an echo of something stirring deep within her.

"Elara!" another voice called, this time louder, and she recognized it as one of her friends.

Shaking off the strange sensation, she took a step back toward the village. But as she did, a powerful surge of energy rippled through the forest, and somewhere far away, in a dark throne room, a man smiled coldly.

"She's outside the barrier," he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "It's time."

The dense forest grew darker as Elara wandered, her heart pounding in her chest. No matter how hard she tried, every path seemed unfamiliar, the towering trees closing in around her. A creeping unease began to gnaw at her, and the sounds of rustling leaves and snapping twigs made her jump at every shadow. Her breath quickened as she strained her ears, certain she wasn't alone.

A sudden crack of a twig behind her made her whip around, eyes wide with fear. She was ready to bolt when she saw a figure emerging from the shadows. Relief flooded her as she recognized Grams, her shawl askew, her expression grave.

"Elara!" Grams hissed, glancing nervously around. "Come to me, now. Quickly!"

Elara didn't need to be told twice. She ran toward her grandmother, her fear momentarily replaced by the comfort of familiarity. Grams grasped her hand tightly, her grip trembling but firm. "We must go. Now," Grams said, her voice low and urgent. Together, they began to make their way back toward the village.

They hadn't made it far when shadowy figures emerged from the trees, blocking their path. Cloaked in dark robes, their faces hidden beneath deep hoods, they stood motionless at first, a menacing wall of silence. Then one of them stepped forward, raising a hand as the others began to chant in unison. The sound was low and guttural, reverberating through the air like an otherworldly hum.

Elara felt her knees weaken as the chanting pulled at her mind, dragging her into a haze. Her vision blurred, and suddenly she was no longer in the forest. She was back on the battlefield, the clashing of swords and the cries of warriors filling her ears. The stench of blood and ash overwhelmed her senses as she stumbled, her heart pounding in panic. She tried to scream, but her voice was swallowed by the chaos around her.

"Elara! Snap out of it!" Grams' voice cut through the haze like a lifeline.

Elara blinked, disoriented, as she found herself back in the forest. Grams was shaking her, desperation in her eyes. "It's too late," Grams muttered, pulling Elara behind her. "Run, Elara. Run now!"

Before Elara could react, one of the hooded figures raised his hand, a dark, crackling energy forming between his fingers. He hurled it toward Elara, but Grams moved faster. She threw herself into the path of the spell, shielding Elara with her body. The impact sent Grams staggering backward, her face contorted in pain, but she managed to push Elara away.

"Grams!" Elara screamed, rushing to catch her as she fell to the ground. She knelt beside her, tears streaming down her face. "No, no, you promised! You promised you'd stay with me!"

Grams' hand trembled as she reached up to cup Elara's cheek. "Listen to me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You must go. The village... it's not safe for you anymore. They'll come for you. You have to find your allies. They'll help you remember. You have to awaken fully, Elara."

Elara shook her head, her sobs wracking her body. "No, I can't leave you. Please, Grams, don't leave me!"

Grams managed a weak smile, her eyes filled with love. "I've always loved you, my child... more than anything. Now, go. Run!"

Grams' words struck Elara like a thunderclap, and she stumbled to her feet. One of the hooded men advanced toward her, his hand glowing with dark magic. Elara froze, terror rooting her in place as he aimed a spell at her.

Instinctively, she raised her hands, her mind screaming for help. A blinding light erupted from her palm—the same hand where she had dreamed of holding the amulet. The light surged forward, engulfing the hooded man in an instant. When the brightness faded, he was gone, his dark form vanished into nothingness.

Elara stared at her trembling hand, stunned, but there was no time to dwell on what had just happened. She turned and ran, darting through the forest, her tears mixing with the cold air on her cheeks. She didn't dare look back, the weight of Grams' sacrifice propelling her forward.