The road to the Imperial Capital wound like a dark ribbon through the dense heart of the Ashenwood Forest. Moonlight filtered through the towering canopy above, casting silver streaks across the worn path. The rhythmic clatter of carriage wheels and the steady hoofbeats of the royal escort filled the cool night air.
Anna pressed against the carriage window, her breath fogging the glass as she watched the shapes of the trees blur past. Across from her, her mother, Lady Selene, sat poised and elegant despite the long journey, her emerald eyes glimmering faintly in the lantern light. Beside her were Anna's older sisters — Elara, stiff and proper, and Talia, her head bent over a book even as the carriage swayed.
Grandmother Aeloria sat at Anna's side, her presence grounding. She had been quiet for most of the journey, lost in thought, fingers resting lightly on the carved handle of her cane.
Twice each year, tradition summoned the royal family to the empire's heart: once at summer's height for this grand courtly spectacle, and again in the depths of winter for the conclave, when laws were decreed and the bonds of power reforged. These journeys were more than mere duty—they were the empire's heartbeat, a steady, unyielding rhythm that bound distant provinces to the throne.
For Talia and Elara, this journey was more than duty—it was an opportunity. At ten and eight, they were already well-regarded for their magical prowess, each display of their gifts eagerly awaited by the court. Talia, with her affinity for the skies, would dazzle the gathering with her command over wind and lightning, while Elara's fiery displays were certain to ignite awe and admiration in equal measure. Their parents spoke often of the honor they would bring the family, of how their magic would strengthen Astoria's image before the empire's most powerful lords and ladies.
At only six years old, Anna had been given no grand expectations for the journey ahead. Her instructions were simple and painfully clear: behave, smile when spoken to, and above all, stay close to her grandmother. She was not expected to dazzle the court like her sisters, only to exist quietly on the edges of the spectacle, a shadow amidst the empire's brilliance.
Even so, excitement fluttered in her small chest, mingled with a tangle of nerves. Until now, the capital had been nothing more than a place of stories and whispered descriptions—a realm of glittering towers, endless feasts, and magic so bright it seemed to dance in the very air.
Her world, until now, had been the royal family's southern residence—a sprawling castle nestled deep within the rolling, emerald hills of the south. It was a tranquil haven far removed from the clamor of the capital, a place of sun-dappled gardens and winding stone paths where time seemed to move more slowly. Salt-kissed breezes drifted inland from the southern seas, carrying with them the mingled scents of wildflowers and ripe orchards.
In past years, Anna had always remained behind at the southern castle with her grandmother, watching wistfully as her mother and sisters departed for the glittering halls of the Imperial Palace. From there, she would wait for their return, listening eagerly to tales of grand feasts, dazzling displays of magic, and the endless swirl of courtly intrigue.
But this year was different. For the very first time, she was going with them—leaving behind the warm, familiar gardens of her childhood to see the capital with her own eyes. Excitement fluttered in her chest, mingled with a nervousness she didn't quite understand.
As their carriages rolled along the winding road northward, Anna pressed her face to the window, her breath fogging the glass. Her mind swirled with childish wonder at the tales she'd heard—the shimmering banners that lined the capital's streets, the bustling markets overflowing with strange and wondrous wares, and the grand hall of the Imperial Palace where the ceiling was said to be painted with constellations that glimmered like real stars.
Somewhere deep inside, beneath her excitement, there was a hint of nervousness she could not quite name. She didn't understand the sharpness in her mother's voice when she spoke of court politics or the shadow that crossed her grandmother's face whenever Valerius was mentioned. But Anna felt it—the unspoken tension, the knowledge that this journey was not merely a family trip.
This was a crossing into another world. One where every smile hid a blade, and even the smallest misstep could echo far beyond the marble halls of the palace.
A sharp crack of splintering wood tore through the stillness of the night, yanking Anna from her drifting thoughts.
The lead guard's head snapped toward the sound, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword.
"Hold!" he barked, his command cutting cleanly through the steady clatter of hooves and wheels. "Something's in the trees!"
The carriage lurched violently as the driver reined in the team. Horses reared and screamed, their hooves striking the packed earth in a frenzy, the air suddenly thick with the acrid scent of sweat and panic. The once-peaceful night now thrummed with tension, every shadow beneath the trees seeming to shift and breathe.
Aeloria's eyes narrowed, her entire frame going taut as she scanned the shadowed undergrowth. Every line of her posture radiated lethal intent.
"Selene," she hissed, her voice low but cutting like a drawn blade. "Get the girls behind me. Now."
Selene didn't hesitate. She swept Anna and her sisters toward the rear of the carriage, shielding them with her body as she pushed them behind her skirts. Anna's small hands clutched desperately at the fabric, her breath coming in quick, panicked gasps, wide eyes glimmering with fear.
The forest seemed to awaken all at once, shadows shifting as if the night itself had drawn breath. Then, with a violent rush, the darkness split open and a lone figure burst from the treeline, his movement sudden and feral.
"Death to the False King! Death to his bloodline!"
The cry rang out, raw and guttural, echoing through the night air. The man was draped in tattered black and crimson, his face concealed behind a crude iron mask that caught the moonlight in a cold, fleeting glimmer. His words struck like flint to kindling, igniting the silence into chaos.
From the trees, dozens more figures erupted, surging forward with a frenzied roar. The once-still forest became a maelstrom of motion and sound as the masked assailants charged, their fury spilling into the clearing like a breaking wave.
The lead guard didn't flinch. With a sharp, metallic hiss, he ripped his sword free, the polished steel catching a glint of moonlight. His armor clinked as he stepped forward, every movement brimming with grim resolve.
"Form a defensive line!" he bellowed, his command cutting through the chaos like a warhorn's blast.
The escort obeyed without hesitation, years of relentless training snapping into place. Boots pounded the packed earth as they closed ranks around the carriage, shields interlocking in a solid wall, blades rising in perfect unison.
Anna's breath caught in her throat, a sharp, trembling gasp. She pressed herself against Selene, clutching her mother's hands with white-knuckled desperation, feeling the frantic hammer of her own heartbeat echo in her ears. The shadows around them writhed and lunged, the moonlight glinting off flashing blades as dark shapes crashed through the underbrush. Guttural war cries split the night, harsh and wild.
"Protect the princesses!" the captain bellowed, his voice nearly drowned beneath the chaos.
Then the world erupted. Steel clashed in a flurry of brutal strikes. Horses screamed, hooves skidding and pounding as they reared against their harnesses. Crossbow bolts whistled through the air, the sharp twang of each release followed by a deadly thunk as they buried themselves deep into wood, leather, and earth.
Selene shoved Anna behind her with a fierce, protective strength, drawing a slender dagger that gleamed cold and silver beneath the moonlight. Elara stumbled from the carriage, her wide eyes burning with fear and resolve as she began a hurried incantation. A violent gust of wind erupted from her outstretched hands, slamming into a charging attacker and hurling him backward into the darkness.
Beside Anna, Talia's face had gone pale, her body trembling. She gripped Anna's hand tightly, whispering a spell she barely remembered. A fragile shimmer of magic flickered to life around her fingers, weak but defiant—a spark of protection born of desperation.
The forest had become a maelstrom, alive with motion, steel, and magic—and in the center of it all, Anna clung to her family, heart hammering, utterly terrified.
Aeloria slammed her cane against the ground, and a shockwave rippled outward, sending three assailants tumbling across the dirt with bone-jarring force. "You dare lay hands on the imperial bloodline?" she hissed, eyes blazing. "You will pay for this insolence!"
But there were too many of them.
The guards fell one by one, cut down beneath the relentless tide. Arrows found gaps in armor, blades bit deep into flesh, and the once-disciplined formation dissolved into chaos and blood. Shouts turned to screams, steel clanged against steel, and the air reeked of sweat, fear, and iron.
Anna's breath came in sharp, ragged gasps, each one a struggle against the tight, suffocating knot of terror in her chest. She clung to Talia's hand with all her strength, her knuckles white, refusing to let go even as her sister trembled beside her.
Then Elara broke free.
"I can help!" she cried, her voice cracking with desperation as she stumbled out of the carriage.
"Elara, no!" Selene shouted, sprinting after her.
Before she could reach her daughter, a dark figure burst from the melee, his dagger glinting coldly as he lunged straight for Selene's heart.
Anna's eyes went wide, panic igniting in her chest like wildfire. No!
Another man loomed behind Elara, a savage snarl on his lips as he raised a crude club high over his head, ready to bring it crashing down.
And then it happened.
A deep, thrumming hum surged up through the soles of Anna's feet, as though the earth itself had awakened beneath her. It rattled through her bones, a fierce, relentless pulse that built and built until it filled her chest and skull, drowning out the screams and clashing steel.
Not them. The words burned through her mind, raw and absolute. Not my family.
The sensation erupted, no longer a whisper but a roaring inferno, coiling through her veins like molten fire. Her small body trembled violently, and green light blazed from her eyes, sharp and searing, illuminating the terrified faces around her. Anna let out a scream that cracked the night air, raw and defiant:
"DON'T TOUCH MY FAMILY!!"