The Day the Queen Disappeared

On the day that the Queen disappeared, the river started running the other way. It seemed the world somehow sensed that the disappearance was monumental in scale deep magic spread throughout the land somehow was recoiling from this space now gaping open at the heart of the palace. A stunned and murmuring throng collected by the banks of the river, a mass of gilded water swimming upstream in total defiance of reason or even logic. It was an omen to them—the unmistakable sign that balance was no longer on one's side, and by which fate was sealed into one kingdom.

In the depths of the palace where tapes hung and whispered forgotten wars and hidden victories, sat an empty throne room. Bright sunshine poured in through high arced windows and fell on the empty seat, once that had belonged to Queen Ysera. She was like a warm sun; and now, when she is absent, everything is pale. People loved her. Those who stood against her felt the full force of their terror. All the true worshippers of the ancient power were enthralled with awe and reverence by the power. But she simply disappeared today, with no trace and no warning.

It was the first inkling that Sir Alistair, Queen's loyal knight, sensed. Staring into her empty chambers, he could feel icy clutches embrace him in ghostly hands. Something metallic stung in the air, and torches began to flicker in the hall, stretching out sinister shadows as if they'd take on a life of their own. There was nothing of struggle. The doors are not splintered. There were no broken windows, only this still, eerie silence weighing on the air, impossible to draw in.

The council met in hushed haste, their voices overlaid with concern and fear. The seers of the kingdom had prophesied calamities and omens, but none had foretold the disappearance of the Queen. They pored over ancient scrolls and murmured forgotten incantations, hoping to find some clue, some guidance, but the parchments held their secrets tightly as if even they feared to speak of the Queen's fate.

Meanwhile, beyond the palace gates, within the villages, and down in the depths of the forest, it spread that the Queen had disappeared. The great and small of the land stirred with an uneasy movement. The night birds would not sing, and beneath the waxing moon, the wolves howled in grief, for they knew the world had gone on. Even the trees, so rooted in their slumber of centuries, seemed to sway with the whispers of the wind and groan as if they too missed her.

There was one who noticed the river's reversal with more than mere curiosity. Elyria was a young girl, hair like autumn leaves, and eyes like the forest, living in the village just beyond the river. She was known to her kin as a wanderer of woods and a friend to wild things. Long before she knew it, she had suspected she was different, touched by something she could not explain. Hearing of the disappearance of the Queen, and now seeing the reverse flow of the river, at this moment something deep inside stirred, the spark glowing alive in her heart. The river was calling her, whispering mysteries and lost destinies.

She had to make her way under a restless sky full of stars to the riverbank that night. She waded into the cold, shimmering water, with the reversed current pulling against her skin almost as if drawing her forward, guiding her. She closed her eyes and let herself drift into the ancient magic that was tugging at her senses.

Deep into her journey, a strange vision filled her mind. She saw a figure in silver robes standing at the top of a cliff overlooking a vast dark forest, arms outstretched to the heavens. The figure was shrouded in mist, but Elyria recognized the regal bearing, the silent strength radiating from it—it was the Queen. She opened her lips, chanting incantations of power; at every syllable the sky deepened, clouds massed and took the shape of some monstrous creature. Suddenly, the vision changed. Elyria found herself standing in a secret chamber deep beneath the palace, surrounded by symbols glowing in a circle around an ancient stone altar. In the centre of the circle, a crystal pulsed ominously: a heart of darkness, beating with forbidden magic, dark as night and cold as death. She knew at once: this crystal was the key to finding the Queen, and yet, it was also the reason she was gone.

Her vision faded, and she found herself waking up by the river, breathless and shaken. She knew just what she had to do.

She left her village in the morning light and walked to the palace, avoiding guards, and secret paths she heard of in stories and seen on old maps. In the end, she saw herself standing before the stone altar from her vision that was hidden under layers of earth and shadow, as she had seen it. And there, in the very centre, lay the dark crystal, pulsing dimly.

Elyria took a deep breath, extending her hand.

She whispered words she barely knew, words that somehow came from some ancient place within her. Her hand trembled as she reached out to touch the crystal's icy surface. Power surged through her, filling her with visions, memories, and truths that were not hers. She saw the Queen, bound by chains of light and shadow, trapped in a world between worlds. Her Highness's voice came to her, faint but clear. "Find me, Elyria. Only you can break the curse." With that new resolve, Elyria threw up her hand and struck the crystal with one solid, forceful blow, shattering it into shards. The wind rushed into the chamber and hurled her up from her feet, slamming her through a whirlpool of light and darkness.

When she woke up, she was in the Queen's realm, where the air sparkled with magic and the ground hummed with power. Before she stood the Queen, regal as ever, her silver robes flowing like water, her eyes wise and ancient. "You have freed me, Elyria," she said, her voice like music. "But this is only the beginning.".

The two stood up and walked out of the hidden chamber as a group, the river flowing forward once more, its waters still and clear. The presence of the Queen was a balm to the land; the balance was restored, but the people would never forget that day she vanished—and the young girl who dared bring her back.

Elyria, as the Queen's closest friend and confidant, would learn the ways of magic and mystery under the wise guidance of the one she had saved. In those quiet moments, she would recall that day by the river, knowing her life was forever changed because of the Queen's call and by the river, which ran backwards to guide her the way.