2026-07-30 16:08:11Davina sneaked into the palace library late at night. It was not the public library frequented by nobles, but a locked underground chamber that could only be opened with a high-ranking family spell, one Davina had learned in secret from her father.
Her footsteps echoed down the cold stone corridor. The candles along the walls ignited on their own as she passed, as if recognizing the noble blood flowing through her veins. Davina browsed the ancient bookshelves, her fingers brushing against dusty spines. She was searching for one thing: information about the Poisonous Forest and the toxic mist that guarded it.
“I can’t believe there isn’t a single record about that forest,” Davina muttered in frustration after two hours of searching.
She pulled a large book from the top shelf. Its cover was made of black leather, unlabelled, save for a circular symbol carved into the center. Davina opened the first page, and her eyes widened.
It was a personal journal written by someone who had successfully escaped the Poisonous Forest alive.
“The forest is called ‘Drakon’s Shroud,’” Davina read in a whispered voice. “Named after the ancient demon believed to inhabit its depths. The mist that blankets the forest is no ordinary fog. It consists of toxic particles capable of penetrating the skin, damaging the lungs, and paralyzing one’s sanity within minutes. No one has ever survived more than a hundred steps within it.”
Davina felt a cold chill crawl down her spine. Yet she kept reading.
“The mist has one weakness. It cannot breach a barrier made from the pure blood of the descendants of the first shadow rulers. Only those with a direct lineage from the First Shadow King–in an unbroken line–can create a blood shield strong enough to neutralize the poison.”
Davina paused. Her heart hammered against her ribs.
The lineage of the First Shadow King. That meant royal blood. King Kaelen’s blood. Elara’s blood.
“I can’t use Elara’s blood,” Davina whispered. “Even if Aldric weren’t by her side, a single drop of blood drawn from Elara would awaken her guardians from their slumber,” Davina complained.
She read the next sentence.
“However, there is another way. A more permanent antidote. Known as the ‘Tears of the Mist-Weaver,’ it is a crystal formed from morning dew condensing atop the leaves of a rare plant that grows only at the peak of Obsidian Mountain. Those tears, when consumed, will render a person’s blood immune to all poisons originating from Drakon’s Shroud for five days.”
Davina smiled. “Obsidian Mountain. That’s not too far from here. I can ....”
Then she read the final sentence. Her smile instantly faded.
“However, gathering the Tears of the Mist-Weaver is no easy task. The plant grows atop a mountain guarded by an ancient beast that cannot be defeated by ordinary strength. To claim it, one must perform a sacrifice ritual, spilling blood from the most beloved heart at the roots of the plant. Without that sacrifice, the plant will wither and die in the hands of anyone who tries to pluck it. Only the tears of true love can keep the crystal intact.”
Davina slammed the book shut. Her face went pale.
Blood from the most beloved heart.
Aldric’s blood.
“I can’t. I could never hurt Aldric. He is everything to me.”
But then, her thoughts shifted. Aldric did not love her. Aldric loved Elara. Aldric never even looked at her with genuine affection. All she ever received from him was ordinary kindness—the same kindness Aldric showed everyone else.
“Aldric doesn’t love me,” Davina murmured. Her eyes began to smart with tears. “He hates me, perhaps. Or at the very least, he doesn’t care about me.”
Davina felt half-crazed with frustration.
“Why should I sacrifice anything for someone who doesn’t love me?” Davina clenched her fists. “No. I won’t go to Obsidian Mountain. I won’t sacrifice Aldric.”
She placed the book back on the shelf. Her slow footsteps led her away from the underground library. Outside, the night of the Shadow World grew deeper still.
Davina returned to her room and sat on the edge of her bed. She stared at her own hands—hands that had practiced shadow magic for years. Strong. Skilled. Worthy of respect. But none of that mattered if she could not cross the forbidden forest.
“How can I defeat Elara if I can’t even reach Drakon? How can I ever win Aldric if I have to sacrifice his life to do it?”
She lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling decorated with tiny crystals. Davina wept, experiencing something entirely unfamiliar: despair.
“There is nothing I can do to win Aldric.”
Davina exhaled a breath of sheer resignation. But then, her resolve flared back to life.
“I will find a way. By any means necessary!”
Davina had barely closed her eyes when a soft tapping sound echoed from her bedroom window.
She opened her eyes in a start. Her bedroom window was on the second floor, high above the ground. It was impossible for anyone to knock on it from the outside without the ability to fly or levitate.
Davina rose slowly. Her heart hammered faster. She grabbed a small dagger from beneath her pillow, a habit drilled into her by her father since childhood, and stepped cautiously toward the window.
A figure stood on the windowsill. A young man with jet-black hair fluttering in the night breeze. His face was handsome, featuring a sharp jawline and eyes that shimmered like two black gemstones. He smiled—a confident, almost arrogant smile, yet one that felt entirely unthreatening.
Davina cracked the window open slightly. “Who are you?” Her voice was sharp.
The young man gave a small, polite yet relaxed bow. “Moverick. Prince of the Eastern Shadow Realm, second son of Lord Theron Vex.”
“Vex?” Davina frowned. “You’re from the Vex clan? But ....”
“I don’t live in the main palace. I was exiled to the eastern territory ten years ago.” Moverick smiled faintly. “Yet I hear many things about you, Lady Davina.”
Davina did not lower her dagger. “What do you want, Moverick?”
“May I come in?”
“No.”
Moverick chuckled softly. “A wise reaction. A beautiful woman should always be wary of a man appearing at her window in the middle of the night. But I come with good intentions.” He looked at Davina intently. “I know of your plans to visit the forbidden forest.”
Davina flinched. “How do you ....”
“I have eyes and ears everywhere. Including the underground library.” Moverick leaned in closer. “I also know you discovered the Tears of the Mist-Weaver. And I know you refused to sacrifice Aldric.”
Davina clenched her fists. “You know far too much, Prince Vex. That makes you dangerous.”
“I am not afraid of danger.” Moverick paused. His eyes locked onto Davina’s. “I have come to propose an alliance.”
“What kind of alliance?”
Moverick flashed a broad smile. “I am fond of Elara.”
Davina froze. Her eyes widened. “You fancy the crown princess?”
“Who wouldn’t?” Moverick laughed lightly. “Elara is beautiful, gentle, and most importantly, she is the heir to the throne. Marrying her means becoming king one day.” He shrugged. “Yet there is one obstacle.”
“Aldric,” Davina finished the sentence for him.
“Precisely.” Moverick nodded. “Aldric is always by her side. Since childhood. Aldric is everything to Elara. And as long as Aldric remains, there is no place for me in Elara’s heart, nor upon the throne.”
Davina gazed at him suspiciously. “What does that have to do with me?”
Moverick looked deep into Davina’s eyes. “You love Aldric, do you not? You want him away from Elara. And I want Elara away from Aldric.”
Davina let out a long breath. “So you want us to ...?”
“Work together, Davina.” Moverick extended his hand through the gap in the window. “I will help you separate them. We will drive Elara and Aldric apart. In the end, I get Elara, and you get Aldric.”
“I don’t even know you,” Davina said at last. “How do I know you won’t betray me?”
Moverick laughed—a low, mysterious sound. “Because we share the same enemy, Davina. And a shared enemy is a bond far stronger than love.”
He stared at Davina with his glittering eyes.
“Let us work together.”
Davina stared at the outstretched hand. She bit her lip. Then, slowly, she reached out and took Moverick’s hand in a firm clasp.
“Very well,” Davina whispered. “We work together.”
Moverick smiled. And within his eyes flickered a flash of light that could hardly be interpreted as mere victory, perhaps something much darker.
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A Shared Enemy
Davina sneaked into the palace library late at night. It was not the public library frequented by nobles, but a locked underground chamber that could only be opened with a high-ranking family spell, one Davina had learned in secret from her father.Her footsteps echoed down the cold stone corridor. The candles along the walls ignited on their own as she passed, as if recognizing the noble blood flowing through her veins. Davina browsed the ancient bookshelves, her fingers brushing against dusty spines. She was searching for one thing: information about the Poisonous Forest and the toxic mist that guarded it.“I can’t believe there isn’t a single record about that forest,” Davina muttered in frustration after two hours of searching.She pulled a large book from the top shelf. Its cover was made of black leather, unlabelled, save for a circular symbol carved into the center. Davina opened the first page, and her eyes widened.It was a personal journal written by someone who had successf
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