"Morgan, run away! Never come back, do you understand? One day, you will understand," the man she called her father whispered, cupping her face. Tears filled his eyes as gunshots echoed behind them.
"Go now! Save yourself! Take that route!" His trembling hand pointed toward the distant trees below their hilltop home, past the garden they had nurtured together.
Morgan shook her head, refusing. "Come with me, Father!" She grabbed his arm, desperate. His features softened, and he pulled her into his strong embrace, the last one she would ever have.
Her mother's screams spilled from the house, tearing through the night. Nineteen-year-old Morgan tried to run toward the sound, but her father held her back.
"For me, Morgan," he begged, dropping to his knees. He kissed her hands and forehead. "Do you understand?"
She nodded, even though her heart shattered. Without looking back, she ran, toward the very trees he once warned her never to enter. She ran to prove she was the strong daughter he believed in.
She didn't stop, not even when the shadows swallowed her inside the forest. Fear haunted every corner. Something growled above her. She clutched a stick, stumbled, and scraped her knees. When night fell, hunger and terror wrapped around her. She curled up, prayed, cried, and finally slept.
When she opened her eyes, emerald-green ones stared back at her.
A girl her age. A stranger who would become her closest friend.
Her uncle stood beside her with a hunting gun. The girl helped Morgan up, her face full of concern as she asked what Morgan was doing alone in the wild. Once Morgan explained everything, the girl, Gwen, begged her uncle to take Morgan home with them.
He disagreed at first, suspicious and afraid of trouble. But after Morgan told him what happened in her town, and after Gwen pleaded again, he gave in. They led her away from danger, toward Petra.
Morgan thanked Gwen through tears, but Gwen only smiled.
"You don't have to thank me. This is what good people do, we help."
Years passed. Morgan found work in the palace gardens, and Gwen's visits were the only thing that kept her heart warm.
Then one morning… her uncle didn't wake up.
They buried him, and the two girls cried until they had no more tears left.
Present Day
Morgan sniffled as the memories burned through her mind. Her parents. Gwen. Gone.
The weight on her chest returned every time she remembered them, the love, the laughter, even the little arguments.
She had never returned home. Never checked the house. She was too afraid to confirm the truth she already knew.
King Malik had taken everything, the lands, the people, turning them into slaves.
She looked at Landon. Her only family now. She would never let anything happen to him.
She sliced vegetables, letting her thoughts drift through pain and joy and struggle. She blinked when she noticed the boy again, a pen frozen between his fingers, staring intensely at his drawings.
Morgan wiped sweat from her brow and covered the pot of boiling rice and vegetables. She approached quietly, peering over his shoulder.
Two doors. In the eyes of the beast.
Her heart jumped. The boy's shaky whisper from before echoed in her memory.
She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Landon looked up, fear flickering in his youthful eyes.
"Is this what you saw in the monster's eyes?" she asked softly.
He nodded, voice barely a breath. "They were opening… before it ran away. It was scared of me."
Morgan didn't question him. Instead, she kissed his head.
Maybe it was time.
"Landon," she whispered, "should we visit a Seer? To understand your dreams… and what you saw?"
He nodded quickly. "Anything to stop being scared of sleeping."
Her heart clenched.
"Then we'll go. After we eat and rest."
Dinner was quiet. Landon devoured his food with the hunger of a growing boy.
"Very tasty," he said with a full mouth.
Morgan smiled. Watching him eat always warmed her heart, she had raised him like her own from the moment he was born. She would keep him safe. Always.
When they cleaned up, Morgan listened. No monster sounds. For once, quiet.
"We should go now," she whispered. "Stay close. Don't let go of my hand. The charm around my neck will protect us."
Landon nodded and squeezed her hand tightly.
She pushed open the door. Darkness greeted them.
Torches lit the streets. People ran, panting, screaming.
"It's here! No, it took my brother Dylan!"
Morgan pulled Landon closer. They ran together with others, survivors trying to outrun death.
Finally, the palace came into view, massive and ancient, carved from the stones. The Seer lived nearby.
As they approached, hushed voices reached them.
"The Dark Knight will save us," someone said. "The prophecy promises he will rise."
Morgan frowned. Everyone spoke of the Dark Knight like he was a hero… but he never came.
They continued until a wooden door appeared at the end of a narrow passage. Morgan knocked. A window slit opened, a pair of old eyes studying them. Locks clicked, and they were allowed inside.
The room smelled of herbs and incense. Shelves overflowed with strange jars and old scrolls. Candles flickered. Shadows danced.
The Seer, Langford, studied Landon. Then his eyes widened as if he saw something impossible.
"Eirlys…" he whispered. A name filled with ancient power.
Morgan quickly corrected him. "His name is Landon."
Langford rushed to his shelves, flipping frantically through heavy tomes until he found a prophecy book. His hands trembled.
He called Morgan aside.
"The nightmares," he said quietly. "They show his future. His strength. The battle he must fight. He cannot control these visions because he hasn't awakened his power."
Morgan frowned. "What are you saying?"
Langford inhaled deeply.
"Your son will end the darkness in Petra."
Morgan's heart stopped. "No. No, he won't. He's just a boy."
Langford's eyes softened. "You and I both know his secret. The one Petra doesn't know."
Morgan stiffened. She shook her head instantly.
Landon didn't know who he was. He didn't know he was royal. He didn't know King Malik executed his mother while she held him.
He didn't know the city itself had tried to erase them both.
Morgan's voice cracked. "The Dark Knight will save us, not Landon."
Langford looked pained. "The Dark Knight will destroy Petra. The truth was twisted. If Pluto finds Eirlys first, he will kill him. The boy is the last barrier between Petra and its doom."
Morgan's tears spilled.
"No! Landon isn't risking his life for this cursed land!" she hissed. "I saved him! Not prophecy. Not fate. Me!"
Langford spoke sadly. "He was saved for a reason. The prophecy cannot fail."
"No!" she shouted again.
Landon approached, confused and scared.
"What truth?" he asked. "Why are you fighting?"
Morgan grabbed his hand. "We're leaving. He's speaking nonsense."
Langford watched, heart sinking, as they headed for the door.
The boy with the power to save Petra was walking away.
And destiny would not be denied forever.