The night of the curse

The bells of Eldoria's grand palace tolled midnight, their echoes rippling through the castle halls like distant thunder. Lysandra sat motionless in her chamber, her fingers clutching the edge of her silk gown. Outside, the city was alive with celebration her twenty-first birthday, the day a princess was meant to step into her future as a ruler.

But for Lysandra, it was the night her fate would be sealed.

A cold wind whispered through the open balcony, carrying the scent of rain and something darker, something ancient. She exhaled slowly, staring at the full moon, its silver glow bathing the marble floors. Her mother, Queen Althea, had warned her—when the sun set on this day, the curse would take hold.

A knock at the door startled her. "Lysandra?" a soft voice called. It was Calla, her childhood friend and lady-in-waiting. "Everyone is waiting for you at the feast."

Lysandra hesitated. "I just need a moment."

She heard Calla sigh before retreating. She knew her friend was worried, but no one could understand what tonight meant for her. The curse had been spoken of in whispers for generations. Every heir of Eldoria carried its weight, but never had one survived past their twenty-first year.

A sharp pain lanced through her chest. Lysandra gasped, doubling over as something cold wrapped around her ribs. She staggered to the mirror, gripping the sides as her reflection wavered. Shadows slithered along her skin like living ink, dark tendrils creeping from her collarbone to her fingertips. Her breath came in ragged gulps as her irises darkened, turning a shade of molten gold.

No. Not yet.

She clenched her jaw, willing herself to fight the change, but the pain only deepened. Her knees buckled. The air grew thick, pressing against her like unseen hands. A whisper curled around her mind, low and ancient.

It is time.

The balcony doors burst open as a gust of wind howled through the room. The shadows around her twisted violently, and her body convulsed. Claws burst from her fingers. Her silk gown tore as her limbs stretched and morphed, bones cracking into something unnatural. A guttural growl rumbled from her throat as the last remnants of her humanity slipped away.

Then silence.

Lysandra opened her eyes, but the world was no longer the same. Darkness pulsed in her veins. She could hear the heartbeats of every guard beyond her door, feel the fear curling in their chests. She turned to the mirror, and a monstrous reflection stared back a creature of shadow and glowing gold eyes.

She had become the beast.

A distant scream shattered the silence. The castle was waking to the nightmare. Footsteps thundered in the hall.

And Lysandra knew she had to run.