The moon hung like a silver coin above Deline, its light draping the palace in shades of ivory and shadow. From the courtyard, one could hear the faint music of the fountains, the rustle of enchanted leaves, and the hum of protective wards etched into the walls centuries ago by the first kings. Yet within the palace, deeper than sound or sight, something stirred.
The Eye of the Eagle was awake.
---
Princess Isolde had barely slept. Her thoughts churned with fragments of the tome she had found in the library: "Only those with courage and wisdom may unlock its truths… Beware the shadow that guides the unseen hand." The words seemed to echo in her chest, beating with her pulse.
By midnight, she had given up on sleep. Instead, she donned her cloak and slipped into the northern wing of the palace. Lucan waited for her, as if he had anticipated her restlessness.
"You couldn't let it go, could you?" he asked softly, though there was no mockery in his tone—only shared determination.
"No," she whispered. "The Eye is not just a myth. It's real. And I need to see it with my own eyes."
Lucan nodded, his hand brushing the hilt of his blade. "Then we go together."
---
The corridors leading to the tower were darker than usual, as though the torches refused to burn brightly in that direction. The silence pressed on them, broken only by their soft footsteps. At the base of the northern tower, the air grew colder, the walls slick with unseen condensation.
A staircase wound upward, each step creaking as though warning them away. Isolde's lantern flickered, then steadied, casting long shadows across the stone.
At last, they reached a heavy wooden door bound in iron. Strange runes had been carved into its frame, faintly glowing as they approached.
"This is it," Lucan whispered.
Isolde touched the runes, and to her surprise, they pulsed warmly beneath her fingertips. A shiver coursed through her—an acknowledgment, almost as if the tower itself recognized her presence.
The door swung open without resistance.
---
The chamber inside was vast and circular, the ceiling lost in darkness. At the very center floated a massive crystal orb, suspended in midair by invisible forces. It was shaped like an eagle's eye, its surface swirling with mist and flashes of light.
Isolde gasped. She felt both awe and fear wash over her. The Eye radiated power—ancient, all-seeing, and alive.
As she stepped closer, the mist within the orb shifted, forming images: the city of Deline gleaming in the sunlight, her father sitting uneasily upon his throne, Flagg whispering at his side, and beyond the palace walls—the forests, the rivers, and the distant banners of Eryndor's armies moving under cover of night.
"It sees everything," Isolde whispered, her voice trembling.
Lucan's jaw tightened. "Then Flagg is using this. That's how he always knows more than he should. That's how he manipulates Father."
Isolde reached out a hand, almost against her will. The moment her palm brushed the surface of the Eye, a shockwave rippled through her. She staggered, gripping Lucan's arm as visions poured into her mind:
Flagg standing in a hidden chamber, his hands weaving dark sigils.
Her father signing decrees he did not understand.
Darian raising his sword against a faceless foe.
A shadowy figure in chains—someone crying her name.
The visions blurred together, overwhelming her senses. She tore her hand away, gasping for air.
"Isolde!" Lucan caught her before she fell. "What did you see?"
She shook her head, trying to steady herself. "Too much. Too many things at once. But I know this—the Eye is dangerous, and it's being used against us."
---
Unbeknownst to them, far below in the palace, Flagg stirred. His connection to the Eye had alerted him the moment it had been touched by another. He rose from his chair, his shadow stretching unnaturally long across the walls of his chamber.
"So," he murmured, his voice low and serpentine. "The little princess dares meddle with what she cannot comprehend."
He raised his staff, dark energy swirling around him. "Let her taste its power. Let her learn fear."
---
Back in the chamber, the orb pulsed violently. The mist within thickened, and the images twisted into nightmares. The ground trembled, cracks spiderwebbing across the floor.
Lucan drew his sword. "Something's wrong—"
Before he could finish, the Eye projected a vision into the room: a monstrous eagle with eyes of fire and wings of shadow. It shrieked, the sound splitting their ears, and lunged toward them.
Isolde raised her arms instinctively, and to her shock, a barrier of light flared around her. The eagle crashed against it, sparks flying, but the barrier held.
Lucan's eyes widened. "Isolde… you wield magic!"
"I—I don't know how," she gasped, struggling to maintain the shield. "I've never—"
"Don't question it now. Hold on!"
The eagle screeched again, battering the shield. The strain tore through her, burning her muscles, but she refused to yield. With a cry, she thrust her hands forward. The shield shattered outward, exploding into a wave of light that engulfed the eagle.
The shadow beast dissolved into mist, fading back into the Eye.
Silence followed, broken only by Isolde's ragged breathing. She collapsed to her knees, trembling.
Lucan knelt beside her. "You did it. You fought it off."
Her hands shook as she looked at her palms. "But how? I'm not trained… I've never studied magic."
Lucan hesitated, then said quietly, "Maybe the Eye awakened something in you. Or maybe… it recognizes you."
---
Far below, Flagg snarled, slamming his staff against the floor. The vision had failed to frighten her—it had awakened her.
"That girl," he hissed. "She will ruin everything."
He paced, his mind already weaving plans. If the princess was becoming aware, she had to be contained, manipulated, or destroyed. And yet… there was potential. A wielder of magic could be useful, if her will could be bent.
"Yes," he murmured, a wicked smile curling his lips. "Perhaps fear is not enough. Perhaps… temptation."
---
Isolde and Lucan left the chamber, shaken but resolute.
As they descended the tower, Isolde whispered, "Lucan… promise me something."
"Anything, sister."
"Don't tell Darian yet. Not Father, not anyone. Until we understand what this means, we keep it between us. Flagg must not know."
Lucan hesitated, then nodded. "As you wish. But be careful, Isolde. Secrets can be as dangerous as enemies."
Isolde touched the wall as they passed, feeling the faint hum of magic in the stones. She knew her life had changed forever. The Eye had shown her fragments of truth, given her a glimpse of power, and awakened something deep within her blood.
And she knew this was only the beginning.