A Test of Courage

Seraphine tightened her grip on the journal, her heart pounding. The tent was silent—too silent.

The candlelight flickered, casting long, twisting shadows along the walls.

But one shadow did not move with the others.

It lingered—watching.

Seraphine took a slow breath, forcing herself to remain still. Fear would only feed whatever lurked before her. "Who are you?" she demanded, voice steady. "What do you want?"

A deep, unnatural whisper answered—no words, just a low murmur that sent a chill racing down her spine.

Seraphine did not flinch. "If you mean to kill me, then do it."

The shadows stirred, shifting like smoke. And then—they laughed.

It was a sound that did not belong to the living.

Seraphine clenched her jaw, stepping forward. "I am Seraphine of Varyndell, Princess of the North, wife of Kaelith. If you think I fear you, you are mistaken."

The laughter stopped.

For a moment, the tent was still.

Then, the shadows retreated—slipping through the fabric like mist, disappearing into the night.

Seraphine exhaled, her grip on the journal tightening. Whatever they were, they had tested her.

And they had let her live.

But for how long?

To be continued…

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