Part I – Whispers in the Halls
The great hall of Deline should have been a place of solace. Its high windows poured in light, its banners hung proud, and its marble floors gleamed as if untouched by war. But after the second wave, the palace was no longer a sanctuary.
Whispers followed Isolde wherever she walked. Servants paused mid-task, lowering their eyes. Courtiers leaned into one another, voices low, speaking her name like it was a curse.
"Did you see her veins?"
"They glowed… as if she were aflame."
"The Eye marks her. Can one so touched still be human?"
Even the knights who had fought alongside her could not hide their unease. Some bowed with deeper reverence, others avoided her altogether.
Isolde carried herself with grace, but each whisper was a stone upon her chest. She smiled for Dorian, who skipped happily through the halls, but when she caught her reflection in a bronze mirror, she barely recognized herself. Her eyes seemed brighter, her skin paler, her veins still faintly traced with gold.
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Part II – The Council Divided
The council chamber stank of tension. Nobles crowded the table, their voices clashing like blades.
"It was her power that saved us," one lord declared, slamming his fist. "Without the princess, Deline would have fallen before nightfall!"
"And at what cost?" hissed Lady Morwen, her eyes sharp as daggers. "Did you not see? The same light that bound the shadows nearly consumed her. She is dangerous!"
"She is chosen," argued Lord Darion. "Perhaps the gods themselves sent her—"
"Or perhaps the darkness did," Morwen snapped. "The Eye corrupts. Always has. Always will. How long before she turns its power against us?"
The chamber roared with competing voices. Some hailed Isolde as savior, others branded her a threat.
At the head of the table, King Philip slumped in his chair. His crown tilted. His eyes flicked nervously between his lords, searching for a voice to cling to.
It was Flagg who leaned forward, his shadow stretching unnaturally long across the table. His smile was calm, but his words dripped poison.
"My lords, my ladies," he said, silencing them. "Deline stands at a precipice. We face not only enemies at our gates, but dangers within. Let us not blind ourselves with hope when vigilance is what we need."
His gaze slid toward Isolde.
"Power is a burden," he murmured. "And burdens can break the strongest backs."
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Part III – The Brother's Stand
Lucan rose before Flagg could press further.
"Enough," he said, his voice sharp as steel. "Without Isolde, we would be corpses. You all know it. Do you think shadows care for your fears? Do you think Eryndor will wait while you squabble like children?"
He fixed his eyes on the council. "My sister is not the threat. The threat is out there, in the black crown's hands. If you doubt her loyalty, then you doubt mine as well. And if you doubt mine, then you doubt Deline's very bloodline."
Silence fell.
Even the boldest nobles shifted uneasily. To question the heir was one thing. To question both royal children was near-treason.
But Flagg's eyes glimmered with delight. Conflict was his feast, and the court had become his banquet.
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Part IV – Shadows in the Garden
That evening, Isolde sought solace in the palace gardens. The roses glowed faintly in moonlight, and the fountains sang softly, but peace was fleeting.
Ellyn hurried after her, worry etched on her face. "My lady, you shouldn't walk alone. Not tonight."
Isolde touched a rose, its petals soft against her fingertips. "Am I dangerous, Ellyn? Tell me true."
Ellyn hesitated. "You are… changed. But dangerous? No. You are still the girl who once wept when a dove broke its wing. You are still my lady. That I know."
Isolde smiled faintly, though her eyes burned with unshed tears. "And yet they look at me as if I were already lost."
From the shadows of the hedge, a raven croaked. Its eyes glowed faintly gold before it flapped into the night.
Isolde shivered. She was being watched. Always.
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Part V – A Warning in the Dark
Later, as moonlight spilled across Deline's towers, Lucan found his sister in the library. Scrolls lay scattered around her, ancient histories of the Eye, fragments of prophecy too faded to decipher.
He set his sword against the wall and leaned close. "They're turning, Issa. Half the court believes you are cursed."
"I know." Her voice was quiet. "But I cannot turn back. The Eye… it calls to me. Each time I resist, the visions grow sharper. The crown grows nearer."
Lucan placed a hand on her shoulder. "Then we face it together. If the court doubts, let them. When the crown comes, it won't matter what they think. It will matter only if we stand."
She looked at him then, truly looked, and saw not just her brother but her anchor. The one tether that kept her from drowning in the Eye's pull.
But in the silence that followed, the whisper returned.
"Blood or fire. Brother or crown. You cannot keep both."
Isolde's hand trembled over the page. She said nothing.
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Part VI – Flagg's Visit
Deep in the night, the tower chamber flickered with candlelight. Flagg stood alone, his staff resting against the floor, his eyes cast toward the distant battlefield where shadows still lingered like smoke.
The raven perched on his shoulder, its beak brushing his ear.
"So," he murmured, his voice almost tender, "the Eye awakens through her. Not through me. Not through the king. A child dares to steal what is mine."
His smile sharpened. "No matter. A flower can bloom brightly… before the frost takes it."
He turned toward the palace, toward the chambers where Isolde slept. His shadow stretched long across the stones, reaching, creeping, as though eager to smother the light.
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