A Sudden Pain

The festival had finally ended, and silence settled over the palace like a thick, comforting blanket. The once lively courtyards, filled with music and laughter, now lay still under the glow of the moon. The distant echoes of the festivities had faded, leaving only the occasional murmur of night patrols and the soft rustle of leaves in the cool night breeze.

Elara let out a weary sigh as she sank into the plush covers of her bed. The exhaustion from the day's events weighed heavily on her body, but there was a lingering warmth in her chest—a quiet joy from the memories she had made. The festival had been more than she expected, a glimpse into a life beyond duty and expectations.

She allowed herself to relax, closing her eyes as she nestled deeper into her pillows. Sleep came easily—at first. But just as her mind began to drift, a sudden sharp pain pierced through her chest.

Elara's eyes shot open, her breath catching as an intense pressure spread across her ribs, twisting and tightening with an unbearable force. It was as if something inside her was being squeezed, suffocating her from within. She pressed a trembling hand to her chest, her fingers clutching at the fabric of her nightgown as she struggled to steady her breathing.

The pain did not subside. If anything, it grew worse. A cold sweat formed along her forehead, her vision blurring at the edges as her body curled instinctively against the overwhelming sensation.

This wasn't normal. This wasn't something she could ignore.

A strangled gasp escaped her lips as she reached for the bell beside her bed, her hand shaking violently as she rang it with weak, desperate tugs. The sharp chime echoed through the halls, and within moments, hurried footsteps approached.

The door burst open, revealing two of her personal attendants, their eyes widening in alarm at the sight of their princess doubled over in pain.

"Your Highness?!" One of them, a young maid named Lilia, rushed to her side, her hands hovering as if unsure whether to touch her or not. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

Elara tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she let out a shuddering breath, clutching Lilia's sleeve in a weak grip. The maid paled, immediately turning to the other servant.

"Go get a doctor! Now!"

The other servant, a boy no older than sixteen, hesitated only for a moment before bolting out of the room. His hurried footsteps echoed down the corridors as he vanished into the darkness.

Lilia, left alone with Elara, frantically tried to help her sit up. "Breathe, Your Highness. Just hold on—help is coming." But the princess barely heard her. The pain was unbearable, consuming every ounce of her strength.

The room swayed, the candlelight flickering wildly in her blurry vision.

Somewhere beyond her fading consciousness, she heard another voice—a third servant running toward the royal chambers. They had gone to inform her family.

Elara barely registered it before another sharp wave of pain tore through her chest, forcing a ragged cry from her lips. Then, the world tilted, and everything went dark.

---------------------------------------------------

Elara floated.

The darkness around her was endless, stretching in every direction, vast and silent. There was no floor beneath her feet, no walls to confine her. Just an infinite abyss, weightless and unyielding. It was neither warm nor cold, neither comforting nor threatening. It simply was.

She drifted aimlessly, her body light as air, her limbs unbound by gravity. For a moment, she felt as though she were nothing—a mere presence lost in an ocean of emptiness.

'Where am I?'

The thought echoed in the void, but no answer came. No walls of her room, no familiar candlelight, no voices calling her name. There was only silence, thick and consuming. A strange sensation curled in her chest—not fear, but something close to it. A quiet unease.

Then, from the depths of the darkness, a faint glow appeared.

It was distant, a small point of light barely visible in the vast abyss, yet it pulsed like a heartbeat, its soft radiance standing out against the endless black. It flickered, beckoning her.

Elara's breath hitched—if she was even breathing in this place. Instinct urged her forward, though she had no ground to step on, no wind to guide her. Still, she moved, drawn to the light by something deep within her.

She reached out, fingers stretching toward the glow, but it remained just out of grasp. No matter how far she extended her hand, the distance between them never seemed to close.

She clenched her teeth, frustration flickering through her. She wasn't going to let it slip away.

Summoning what little strength she had, she forced herself forward, pushing through the weightless void. The light grew brighter, its glow warm and inviting. It was as if it recognized her, responding to her determination.

Elara stretched her hand further—just a little more—

Her fingertips brushed the light.

A sudden warmth rushed through her, spreading from her fingertips down to the core of her being. It wasn't just warmth—it was energy, something alive. It surged through her like a river breaking free from ice, filling her veins with a strange, unfamiliar power.

And then—

She woke.

Her eyes flew open, her chest rising sharply as she sucked in a breath. The dim glow of the candlelit chamber replaced the endless darkness, the soft chatter of servants replacing the silence of the void. The weight of her body pressed against the bed, heavy and real. She was back.

"Your Highness?"

A voice came from her bedside. The royal physician, an older man with deep lines on his face, leaned over her with an expression of concern. Beside him, her maid Lilia hovered anxiously, relief washing over her face as she saw Elara's eyes open.

Elara blinked, her mind still reeling from the dream—the void, the light, the strange sensation lingering in her body. But as she sat up slightly, a sudden awareness settled over her.

Something was different.

She could feel it—a strange hum beneath her skin, an energy she had never known before. It wasn't painful, nor was it overwhelming. It was simply…there, coiled inside her like a quiet ember waiting to ignite.

"Princess," the doctor spoke gently, placing a hand on her wrist to check her pulse. "How do you feel? You collapsed from intense chest pain."

Elara hesitated, glancing down at her hands. She flexed her fingers experimentally. The warmth was still there, simmering just beneath the surface.

"I… feel fine now," she admitted slowly, her voice soft.

The doctor frowned slightly, pressing his fingers lightly against her wrist, then moving to place a hand over her chest, checking for any abnormalities. His brows furrowed as he observed her.

"This is strange…" he muttered. "Your pulse is steady, but there is something—" He paused, tilting his head in thought.

Elara looked at him carefully. "I feel something inside me," she confessed, pressing a hand lightly to her chest. "It's… warm. Like energy, but not like anything I've felt before."

The doctor's gaze sharpened. "Energy?" he echoed.

Elara nodded. "It started after the pain. I had a dream… I was floating in darkness, and then I reached for a light. When I touched it, I woke up—" She stopped, unsure how to explain it in a way that made sense. "And now, I feel this."

The physician exchanged a glance with Lilia, who looked just as bewildered. The room was silent for a moment before he spoke again.

"This is not an ordinary illness," he murmured. "I must inform the royal family at once."

Elara's fingers curled slightly. Whatever had happened to her—it was only just beginning.

---------------------------------------------------

The heavy doors of Elara's chamber opened with a quiet creak, and Emperor Theron stepped inside. His tall frame cast a long shadow across the room, the golden embroidery on his dark robes catching the candlelight. Despite his usual composed demeanor, there was an unmistakable urgency in his stride.

Elara sat up as best as she could, feeling the strange warmth still lingering within her. The doctor, who had been checking her pulse, quickly bowed at the emperor's arrival. "Your Majesty, the princess suffered a sudden ailment, but I have found no physical cause. She only speaks of a strange warmth inside her body."

Theron's gaze sharpened, flicking to Elara. He dismissed the doctor with a single nod. "Leave us."

The physician hesitated before bowing and exiting the room. Lilia, standing by the bedside, looked as if she wanted to stay, but at Theron's glance, she, too, stepped out, shutting the doors behind her.

Now alone with her father, Elara swallowed. His eyes, the same striking color as hers, studied her intently—calculating, searching for answers that only he seemed to understand.

She spoke first. "Father… I don't know what's happening to me."

Theron exhaled quietly, his expression softening in a way Elara only saw. He reached out, carefully tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. "I do," he murmured.

Elara blinked in surprise at the rare display of affection. "You do?"

He nodded. "What you are feeling is mana."

The word sent a jolt through her. "Mana?"

Theron didn't answer immediately. Instead, he placed a hand lightly over her wrist. "Close your eyes," he instructed. "Focus on the warmth inside you."

Elara hesitated but obeyed, shutting her eyes. Almost instantly, she became aware of the energy coursing beneath her skin—subtle yet powerful, like a quiet ember waiting to ignite.

A faint smile touched Theron's lips, though it quickly disappeared. "You have awakened."

Elara opened her eyes, confusion swirling in her gaze. "But… why now?"

Theron's expression grew contemplative. "Mana can remain dormant for years, only surfacing under the right conditions. Stress, exhaustion, or even a moment of clarity can trigger it." He looked at her thoughtfully. "Perhaps, in the midst of the festival, your body finally reached its limit… and in doing so, unlocked what had always been inside you."

Elara wasn't sure how to process it all. Just yesterday, she had been enjoying the festival, living an ordinary life. Now, she was being told she possessed magic.

Theron watched her closely before reaching for her hand. His grip was warm, grounding. "Tomorrow, you will go to the magic tower."

Elara's breath hitched. "The magic tower?"

"To determine the level of your mana." His tone remained steady, but there was an undeniable warmth beneath it—concern, perhaps even pride. "If your mana is weak, you will learn to control it. But if it is strong…" He paused, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. "Your future may change."

Elara's heart pounded. The life she had always known—the expectations placed upon her—suddenly felt uncertain. But amidst the uncertainty, there was one thing she knew for sure.

For the first time, her father wasn't just an emperor. He was simply her father, guiding her through the unknown.

Theron gave her hand one last reassuring squeeze before standing. "Rest for now. We will speak again after your assessment."

Elara nodded, though sleep felt impossible.

Tomorrow, everything would change.