Chapter One: The Girl They Betrayed
In the kingdom of Eldoria, power was inherited by blood—and stolen by betrayal.
Aria Valen learned this truth on the night her life burned to ash.
She had been seventeen, dressed in white silk, standing beside her father on the palace balcony when the bells rang. Not in celebration, but in warning. The sound tore through the night like a scream. By the time Aria turned, soldiers were already flooding the courtyard below, their armor bearing the sigil of House Morvain—their closest allies.
Her uncle Lucien Morvain smiled as her father was dragged away
Chapter Two: Exile in the Shadows
The river was cold. So cold it stole her breath and made her teeth chatter. Aria's body floated like driftwood, limp and battered, her gown clinging to her like a second skin. She could feel the current dragging her away from the palace—the only home she had ever known—and she wondered if she would ever open her eyes again.
Then she did.
Pain lanced through her limbs. Her head throbbed, and her vision blurred as she tried to make sense of the world. Twisted shadows of trees leaned over her, their branches scratching the moonlit sky. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf's howl echoed, but it sounded strangely comforting.
"You shouldn't be alive."
Aria's eyes snapped open, meeting a pair of sharp silver eyes glinting in the darkness. The man who stood before her looked as though he belonged to the night itself. His black cloak fluttered in the wind, and a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Who—who are you?" she croaked, her voice weak.
"Someone who hates those who leave bodies in rivers," he replied, crouching beside her. His hands were firm, surprisingly warm, as he lifted her out of the water. "You have spirit, I'll give you that."
Aria shivered violently. She tried to pull away, but her body was useless, betraying her. Fear and exhaustion pressed her down, yet something in those silver eyes made her cling to life.
The man carried her through the forest, avoiding paths and lights, speaking little but guiding her with a certainty that made her trust him despite the terror gnawing at her. Hours—or maybe days—passed. Time had no meaning in the shadows.
Finally, they arrived at a hidden camp nestled in a grove, far from the roads and prying eyes. Firelight danced across rough-hewn tents, and the air smelled of smoke and iron.
"You'll stay," the man said, "until you can stand again. Then you'll train. And when the time comes… you will take back what is yours."
Aria's gaze flickered to him, disbelief in every line of her face. "You… you can't possibly know what I lost. What they did to me. My father—my mother…" Her voice broke, and for the first time in years, tears slid down her cheeks.
He knelt beside her, gently wiping them away. "I know more than you think. But rage, grief… they can be weapons, if you let them. And you will need every weapon you have if you want to survive what's coming."
Aria swallowed, a strange fire sparking inside her chest. She wanted revenge. She wanted justice. And beneath it all, buried deep under pain, she wanted to live—for herself, not just for the people she had lost.
Weeks turned into months. Kael—her savior and teacher—taught her how to move silently, strike quickly, and read the intentions of men and women alike. He showed her how to wield knives with deadly precision and how to anticipate attacks before they happened. But more than that, he taught her patience. Strategy. The art of being invisible until the perfect moment.
At night, Aria would lie awake, staring at the stars through the canopy, replaying the night of her parents' deaths. Every detail etched itself into her memory: the sound of Lucien's laughter, the way her father fell, the warmth of her mother's blood as it soaked her gown. She hated the man who had taken everything from her.
But Kael taught her something else, too. "Hate alone won't save you," he would say. "It will consume you before you reach them. Let it sharpen you, not blind you."
By the time she had grown into a young woman, her body had hardened, her reflexes were lethal, and her mind had sharpened like a blade. She had learned the shadows, and she had learned them well. Every movement, every breath, every glance was calculated.
And yet, every night, she would think of the palace. Of the life that had been stolen from her. Of the throne that should have been hers.
The forest was her sanctuary, but it was also her prison. And Aria Valen was a creature born to walk in the light.
Kael watched her one evening as she practiced, her blade cutting through the air with precise elegance. He leaned against a tree, arms crossed, his eyes unreadable.
"You're ready," he said finally.
Aria paused, breathing heavily, her knuckles white from gripping her weapons. "Ready for what?"
"To take back what's yours." His voice was low, almost a whisper, but it carried the weight of destiny itself.
Aria looked up at the stars, her chest tight with anticipation. She wasn't a scared girl anymore. She wasn't the helpless child left to die in the river. She was a weapon, a shadow, a storm gathering strength for the day it would break over Eldoria.
And deep in her heart, a single thought pulsed like fire:
"They will pay."
Chapter Three: The Fire Beneath Her Skin
By the time Aria turned twenty-three, the girl who had once floated in the Blackwood River was gone. In her place stood a woman forged by pain, sharpened by loss, and tempered by years of exile. Her hands were calloused from training, her body lithe and strong, her eyes holding a fire no one could snuff out.
Kael watched her spar one morning, his silver eyes tracing every movement, every strike. Her daggers sliced through the air with a deadly rhythm, each motion precise, every landing exact. The wind caught her hair, turning it into a halo of shadow and flame.
"You're ready," he said, his voice calm but firm.
Aria paused, breathing steadily, sweat dripping down her forehead. "Ready for what?" she asked, though the answer already thrummed in her veins.
"To take back your throne," Kael said.
Aria's jaw tightened. She remembered the balcony, the screams, her parents' blood soaking her gown. Every moment of fear, every shred of despair, had led to this. And yet, something else stirred beneath her anger—something she hadn't felt in years: hope.
"You think I can do it?" she asked softly.
Kael's gaze was steady. "You were born to. All that blood, all that loss—it's fuel. Use it. And this time, don't let anyone take it from you."
The forest around them was silent, as if it knew something monumental was about to unfold. Even the birds had vanished, leaving only the whisper of the wind through the trees.
Aria nodded, swallowing her fear. She had trained for this moment, but no amount of practice could steel her for what awaited in Eldoria. The palace she had once called home had become a den of betrayal. Lucien Morvain had claimed her father's crown and poisoned the kingdom with lies. Every noble, every knight, every courtier had bowed to him.
And she had spent years learning how to dismantle it all.
Kael studied her expression, noting the tension in her jaw and the fire in her eyes. "There's more you don't know," he warned. "The palace isn't just ruled by Lucien. There are traps, spies, and people who would kill you without a second thought. You can't fight them all with blades alone."
Aria's fingers brushed over the hidden letter beneath her tunic. She had found it days ago, a message from the palace sealed with Lucien's insignia. He wanted to meet. He wanted to see the woman who had haunted his nightmares—though he didn't know it yet.
A smile ghosted across her lips. Good.
"Yes," she whispered. "I'll be ready for him."
Kael's expression darkened. "And Rowan?"
She froze, the mention of the prince slicing through her focus like a dagger. Rowan, Lucien's son, had always seemed… different. Not cruel, not loyal to his father's lies. When she had glimpsed him during her brief trips near the borders in disguise, she had noticed the hesitation in his eyes, the curiosity, the kindness he tried to hide.
"He's nothing," she said sharply, turning back to the clearing. "Nothing will stop me from what I must do."
Kael didn't argue. He knew the battles in her heart were as dangerous as those in the palace. Love was a luxury she could not afford, not yet.
Weeks passed, and the plan began to take shape. Aria traveled by night, moving silently across forests and villages, gathering intelligence, allies, and weapons. Every day honed her skills further, every encounter sharpening her resolve. The girl who had floated in the river was now a force to be reckoned with—a phantom in the night, a whisper of death for those who had wronged her.
And yet, beneath her hard exterior, the memories of her family lingered. She would kneel at the Blackwood River sometimes, whispering their names to the wind.
"I will not fail you," she said, tears burning her eyes.
One night, as the moon hung high and silver over the forest, Kael approached her while she trained. His expression was unreadable, but his tone carried weight.
"Tomorrow," he said, "we leave for Eldoria."
Aria stopped mid-strike, her chest tight with anticipation. The moment had come—the culmination of years of exile, training, and grief. She would reclaim her throne. She would see Lucien fall. And she would make sure the kingdom remembered the blood that had been spilled unjustly.
Kael stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Remember, fire can destroy, but it can also consume you if you let it. Use it wisely, Aria. Use it with purpose."
Aria looked up at him, her eyes blazing. "I've waited too long to doubt myself. This time, nothing will stop me."
As dawn broke over the forest, painting the world in gold and crimson, Aria Valen felt a strange sense of peace. The girl who had been betrayed was gone. The woman who would rise from the shadows had awakened.
Her fists clenched around her daggers. Her heart burned with fire. And deep beneath it all, a single truth echoed in her soul:
The kingdom of Eldoria would remember