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A Vision

  Elara's POV

  I sat at the grand table, its polished surface reflecting the flicker of the torches that lined the walls. The air in the chamber was heavy, oppressive, the kind of weight that pressed down on words before they could leave your lips. My father sat to my right, his hand fidgeting with the tablecloth in a vain attempt to steady himself. To my left, my mother reclined with her usual regal indifference, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond me, as though my presence were merely an inconvenience.

  “What of my brother?” I asked, breaking the silence.

  Selene turned her icy gaze toward me, her expression unmoving. “He has gone to Terranova. But you didn’t summon us here to discuss him, did you?”

  Her words carried an edge, though her tone was calm. I studied her carefully, searching for some trace of the warmth she had once carried when I was a child. It was gone, replaced by a chill that seemed to seep into the very walls of the castle. I shifted my attention to my father.

  A bead of sweat trailed down his temple, his fingers twitching as he avoided my gaze. The sight almost made me smile—almost. His unease was answer enough, though I intended to hear him say it.

  “Father,” I began, my voice light yet pointed, “why did you send my precious companion away?”

  He winced, his eyes darting toward my mother, seeking support. Selene’s expression remained impassive, her cold stare unyielding. My father sighed heavily, turning back to me.

  “Elara, my sweet honeydew,” he began, his voice faltering. “Your mother was—” He paused, his words catching in his throat under her icy gaze. “She was going to kill him. I knew you couldn’t bear it, so I took action and sent him away.”

  Selene’s brow furrowed at his deflection, the subtle shift in her posture revealing her displeasure. Her sharp eyes locked onto him like a blade ready to strike.

  “Dear… my buttercup,” my father stammered, raising his hands in a pleading gesture. “Don’t look at me like that! You know your vision might have been wrong! It—”

  “Vision?” I interrupted, my gaze narrowing as I turned to him. “What vision, Father?”

  Before he could speak, Selene answered, her tone cutting through the room like frost. “An omen.” She turned to face me fully, the weight of her presence pressing down on my chest. “I saw your precious stallion walking through the castle. But it was no longer the castle you know—it was a ruin. The walls burned with black flames, and from his shadow, monsters crawled.”

  I felt the blood drain from my face as she continued.

  “The halls were littered with bones,” she said, her voice unwavering, “and on the throne, you sat. Bloodied. Near death.”

  The air around me seemed to freeze. My mind raced, but my body remained still. Her vision was not something to dismiss lightly. My mother had not spoken of such things in years, not since the last prophecy had claimed the life of my sister.

  I felt my hands clench beneath the table, a shiver running through me as I struggled to hold her gaze. “Visions aren’t always fate,” I managed, though my voice was quieter than I intended.

  Selene’s face twisted with emotion—anger, sorrow, fear—all of it barely restrained beneath her calm exterior. “I will not lose another daughter,” she said, her voice trembling slightly before hardening again. “Much less because of a mundane horse.”

  “Mundane?” I snapped, my voice rising as the word struck like a lash. “You dare to call him mundane? I’ve known since I was a child that you implanted a horn on that colt you gifted me. Vision or not, I will not let him fall. He means that much to me.”

  Her gaze remained locked on mine, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something—perhaps regret or pain. But it was gone as quickly as it came.

  I turned to my father, my patience thinning. “What news of the Wildmanes?”

  He stiffened as though struck, his hand gripping the edge of the table. I watched him carefully, my glare holding him in place as he attempted to retreat.

  “Father,” I said, my voice sharper now. “What has happened to Astralus?”

  His head lowered, and he took a deep breath. “They were attacked mid-flight by the Skyborne.”

  The words hit like a physical blow, though I kept my expression neutral. My mind raced, but I forced myself to remain still as he continued.

  “During the battle,” he said carefully, “Astralus fell into the forest. They found his cage, but…” He hesitated, his voice faltering. “It was empty. Astralus is lost, Elara.”

  The world seemed to tilt, his words ringing in my ears as though he had struck a bell deep within me. I stood abruptly, the legs of the chair scraping against the floor.

  “Elara,” my father called after me, his voice tinged with desperation. “Elara, wait!”

  I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. My steps were steady as I left the hall, but each one carried a growing weight that threatened to crush me. By the time I reached my room, my chest was tight, and my vision blurred with tears I refused to let fall.

  I shut the door behind me and leaned against it, willing the world to stop spinning.

  “Elara, are you alright?” Alice’s soft voice seeped through the door, pulling me from the whirlpool of my thoughts.

  I didn’t answer immediately, instead focusing on the steady rhythm of my breathing. The sharp edges of the conversation at the table still cut through my mind, each word my mother had spoken branding itself into my memory.

  “Elara?” she called again, her voice more tentative this time.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “I’m fine,” I managed, though the words felt hollow. I heard the faint creak of the door opening and turned to see Alice enter, carrying a tray of tea and biscuits. Her presence was a welcome reprieve from the chaos that swirled around me.

  She set the tray on the table beside my bed, her expression warm but concerned. “Was it another nightmare, young lady?”

  I hesitated before nodding. It wasn’t entirely a lie. Nightmares had plagued me for days now, dark and vivid visions that left me waking in a cold sweat. But tonight’s torment hadn’t come from my dreams—it had come from the waking world.

  Alice sat beside me, her gentle demeanor a balm against the storm raging inside. She poured a cup of tea, the soft clink of porcelain breaking the silence. “Was it the same as the others?” she asked, her voice low. “The same hellscape… the same man?”

  Her words sent a shiver through me. I picked up the cup and held it tightly, the warmth seeping into my trembling hands. “Yes,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “It was about Marcelo.”

  His name hung in the air, a fragile thread that connected me to something I couldn’t fully understand. I turned the word over in my mind, trying to make sense of why it carried such weight. Marcelo. A name that didn’t belong to the stallion I had known since I was a child, yet one that felt inseparable from him.

  Alice tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “Who is Marcelo?” she asked, her tone careful, as though afraid the question might break me.

  I stared into the tea, the faint ripple of its surface mirroring the turmoil within. “I… don’t know,” I admitted. “But he’s been in every nightmare since I created the bond with Astralus. A man, standing in the middle of destruction. He clashed with onslaughts of horrendous and grotesque monsters.”

  The bond. I had forged it out of desperation, a reckless act born from a love I couldn’t fully explain. I thought it would strengthen our connection, instead it caused a slight discomfort within me, ruining the final days we had together, prior to the Wildmane’s abduction.

  Alice’s brow furrowed, her fingers brushing against mine. “You’ve always had a strong will, Elara. If this bond was your choice, then you must believe in it. But…” She hesitated, her words faltering. “Does Marcelo frighten you?”

  The question caught me off guard. Did he frighten me? The answer should have been simple, but it wasn’t. The figure in my dreams—the man with the shadowed face and piercing red gaze—was unsettling, yes. But beneath the fear was something else, something I couldn’t name. A pull, a recognition.

  “No,” I said finally. “He doesn’t frighten me. He feels… familiar.”

  Alice’s eyes widened slightly, but she said nothing, allowing the silence to settle between us.

  I set the tea down, rising to my feet. The soft glow of the moonlight spilling through the window bathed the room in silver. I walked to the window and placed my hand against the cool glass, my gaze drifting over the distant forest. Somewhere out there, Astralus was lost. And with him, the answers I needed.

  “Astralus fell to the forest,” I murmured, my voice trembling. The words tasted bitter on my tongue, the weight of them sinking into my chest. “But he isn’t gone. I can feel him.”

  Alice moved to stand beside me, her expression both concerned and determined. “If you believe he’s alive, then he is. You’ve always trusted your instincts, Elara.”

  I turned to her, my hands balling into fists. “This isn’t just instinct, Alice. This is something deeper. I can feel the bond pulling at me, like a thread tied to my soul.”

  Her gaze softened, and she placed a hand on my shoulder. “Then follow it,” she said simply. “No one can stop you when you’ve made up your mind, not even the queen.”

  Her words stirred something deep within me, a faint ember of hope amid the ash of despair. I nodded, though the weight of what lay ahead loomed over me like a storm on the horizon. The bond was my anchor, the only connection I had to Astralus—and to Marcelo, whoever he truly was.

  I turned away from her, staring out at the window. “Alice, do you remember what I told you when I first discovered that Astralus wasn’t a unicorn?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, hesitating as though stepping into the fragile space of my memory. “I remember you felt lied to. Your mother… she implanted that horn to match Aurelia’s emblem.”

  Alice reached for a biscuit from the tray, nibbling its edge in a small, nervous gesture.

  “Mother confirmed he was just a regular horse,” I murmured, my voice distant. “But now? I’m no longer sure.”

  The bond stirred within me, a quiet hum that grew louder as I focused on it. It wasn’t just a tether—it was alive, pulsating with energy that wasn’t entirely mine. Magic flowed both ways, threading between us, binding not just our potential but something deeper.

  Alice paused mid-bite, watching me carefully. “Of course, he’s not just a regular horse,” she said, her tone light and tinged with affection. “He’s your cherished stallion!” She placed a hand over her heart, mimicking my sentiments in a dramatic gesture meant to comfort.

  I almost smiled. Almost. Instead, I reached deeper into the bond, tugging gently at the connection. It responded immediately, surging forward with a force that stole my breath. A searing heat flared within me, spreading like a firestorm, clawing through my veins. I forced it to gather in my hand, my mana stirring the flame into being.

  The burning sensation came with voices—screams and wails that tore through my mind. Echoes of pain and madness whispered my name, their cries sharp and unrelenting. I gritted my teeth, willing the chaos to remain contained.

  Then, it appeared.

  The black flame burst to life in my palm, flickering like a malevolent spirit. It pulsed with a rhythm of its own, dragging at my mana, resisting my will. My arm trembled as the flame seemed to twist and writhe, its tendrils snaking up toward my wrist.

  Alice gasped, her biscuit tumbling from her hand. She stumbled back, trembling as she clutched at her chest. “Elara, wh-what is that?” Her voice cracked with fear, her usually steady demeanor unraveling.

  The flame pulsed again, hungrier this time, pulling at my mana with a force that made my core ache. It wasn’t just a flame—it was alive, insidious. My vision blurred as it whispered promises and threats in equal measure, its wails growing louder with every second.

  “Extinguish it!” Alice cried, taking a step closer despite her trembling hands. “Elara, that magic—it feels… wrong.”

  “I’m trying,” I ground out through clenched teeth. My mana surged in retaliation, but the flame fought back, its tendrils tightening their grip. It didn’t want to die. It wanted to consume.

  My arm spasmed, the pain lancing through my core like a jagged blade. Sweat dripped down my temple as I forced the flame back, pouring every ounce of my will into severing its hold. Finally, with a shuddering breath, the flame sputtered and died, leaving behind a faint scorch mark on my palm.

  Alice stood frozen, her hand hovering near her mouth. Slowly, she lowered it and took a step toward me. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Elara… that flame. Was it from…?”

  I nodded, cutting her off. “The bond with Astralus.”

  The words hung heavy in the air, a truth neither of us wanted to face but could no longer deny. The silence between us felt fragile, like glass on the verge of shattering.

  Alice lowered herself into a chair, her movements slow and deliberate. “Then… he’s no regular stallion,” she said quietly, as though the realization was too much to speak aloud.

  “No,” I said, the weight of my certainty pressing down on me. “He’s not just a horse. He never was.”

  I turned back to the window, the faint reflection of my face barely visible against the glass. The manor stretched out before me, dark and vast. The bond thrummed faintly in my chest, a quiet but insistent pull.

  “Astralus,” I whispered, the name trembling on my lips. “Who are you?”

  The question lingered in the air, unanswered. But the bond pulsed once more, as though urging me forward. Somewhere beyond the horizon lay the truth. And I would find it, no matter what it cost.

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