THE QUEEN VANISH

The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished.

It began at dawn when the sun stretched its golden fingers across the pale mist that clung to the surface of the water. It was as if the very earth had taken a breath—silent, still, and strange. The fishermen who stood at the river’s edge, mending their nets, stared in disbelief as the water reversed its course. The flow that had sustained their village for centuries, winding its way through the valley, now retreated into the hills from which it had come.

At first, they thought it was a trick of the light, a fleeting illusion. But as the day stretched on, the backward current became undeniable. Trees that once dipped their roots into the river’s depths were now exposed, their bark peeling from the sudden dry air. Fish leapt from the shallow pools, struggling in the wrong direction. And then, as the day passed, the sky darkened unnaturally, as though the heavens themselves had caught the chill of this unnatural event.

The Queen's disappearance was not just an oddity of nature. No. It was something far worse. The strange reversal of the river was only the first of many omens that signalled a deeper, more insidious force at work.

Queen Elara had been missing for three days by the time the river’s disturbance reached the capital. For three days, the kingdom had searched every shadow, every hidden chamber, every treacherous mountain pass for signs of their beloved ruler. There was no trace. No sign of struggle. No whispers in the wind. Just silence.

In the royal palace, where the air was always thick with the scent of fresh flowers and incense, the court had grown restless. The nobles whispered in hushed tones, their eyes darting from one another in nervous glances. The Queen had always been a steady presence, wise and kind, a ruler who spoke to the people with an open heart and a clear mind. What could have happened to her?

Some feared she had been taken by the ancient gods. Others, more cynical, wondered if she had fallen victim to a political plot. But the more superstitious among them knew that something darker was afoot. It was in the wind, the way the trees groaned in the night, the way the river ran backwards.

At the Palace of Stars, the royal astrologer, Old Yrieth, sat before the celestial map, his frail fingers trembling as he traced the positions of the stars. The alignment was all wrong. The stars were shifting in a pattern that hadn’t been seen in millennia, and the great red moon that hung low in the sky cast a pallor across the land that seemed to stretch deep into the heart of the kingdom.

"I have seen this before," Yrieth muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing. "But only in the darkest of prophecies."

Elsewhere, on the edge of the kingdom, the remnants of an ancient order known as the Arcanae had stirred. They had long ago retreated from the affairs of men, leaving only whispers and forgotten ruins in their wake. But the disappearance of the Queen had caught their attention. The very air hummed with the power of their dark magics, and old powers that had been dormant for centuries began to stir.

Elara’s closest confidant, Captain Varis of the Royal Guard, was one of the few who knew what had truly happened to the Queen—though he had not yet shared it with anyone, not even his most trusted men. He had not even shared it with himself.

When he had arrived at the Queen’s chambers that fateful night, the only thing he had found was a single shard of glass, a fragment of a broken mirror. He had held it in his hand for hours, the cold edge digging into his palm, as he stared at the faint reflection of his own eyes, distorted in the cracked surface. A mirror, he knew, was a powerful thing, capable of showing not just the physical world, but the truth of the soul.

But this mirror had shown nothing. No reflection. Only the empty void.

Varis had been a soldier all his life, trained to face death, to read the signs, and to know when a battle was lost. But nothing had prepared him for the hollow feeling in his chest as he turned and left the Queen’s chambers, unsure whether she had been taken, whether she had left willingly, or whether she had simply vanished into the ether.

He had not yet spoken of what he had found, but he knew, deep within him, that this was no ordinary disappearance. It was a fracture. A rift. Something that threatened to tear apart the very fabric of their world.

By the time the sun reached its zenith, the river had pulled back so far that it had revealed the long-forgotten ruins of the ancient city of Lunara. The ruins had once been a thriving metropolis of scholars and mages, but it had been abandoned for centuries, its walls crumbling to dust. Now, with the water gone, they stood exposed to the sky for the first time in generations.

No one knew why the river had reversed its flow, or what ancient force had been awakened by its pull. But something was clear to all who looked upon the ruins: the land was sick. The earth was crying out.

In the heart of Lunara, at the very centre of the crumbled city, a great tower rose from the earth, taller than any building in the kingdom. Its stone walls were etched with runes older than any written language, and its top was lost in the clouds. It had been abandoned long ago, yet its presence was felt in the air—heavy and ominous.

Varis rode swiftly toward the ruins. His horse’s hooves pounded the earth as he crossed the wide fields, but his mind was elsewhere, replaying the events of the past three days. The Queen’s disappearance. The backwards river. The prophecy had been whispered in the royal archives, though no one had dared speak of it aloud for generations.

The prophecy spoke of a time when the river would run backwards, the stars would shift, and the Queen would vanish. The kingdom would fall into darkness, and from that darkness would emerge a new ruler—a ruler not of blood, but of shadow. A ruler born of forgotten magic and forbidden power.

Varis did not know if that prophecy had come true, but he had his suspicions. He had seen the flicker of power in the Queen’s eyes, the way her fingers had brushed the edges of an ancient tome that no one else was allowed to read. He had seen the way she had studied the old texts, the ones that spoke of the hidden arts. Magic older than time itself.

Could she have known something? Could she have unlocked something that had been hidden away for centuries?

As he approached the ruins, a strange chill gripped him. He urged his horse forward, his sword ready at his side, but even he could not shake the feeling that the world was shifting beneath his feet. The ground itself seemed to tremble, as if in anticipation of something to come.

He had come too far now to turn back. He had no choice but to find answers.

At the top of the tower, where the shadows stretched long and the winds howled like wolves, a figure stood.

The figure was tall, cloaked in dark robes, its face obscured by a hood. The air around it crackled with ancient power, and its hands glowed with a faint, eerie light. The figure gazed down upon the kingdom below, watching as the river continued its backward flow, as the stars continued to shift in their unnatural pattern.

It smiled.

This is just the start, setting the stage for a deeper, unfolding mystery. Would you like me to continue or focus on a particular aspect of the story?

Captain Varis dismounted at the base of the ancient tower, his breath heavy in the crisp air. The ruins of Lunara stretched around him, but his gaze was fixed on the dark silhouette at the tower’s pinnacle. His instincts screamed that he was not alone, that something—someone—was waiting for him.

The figure atop the tower did not move, but Varis knew it could see him, knew it was waiting. It had to be the one responsible for the Queen’s disappearance.

He ascended the stone stairs, his hand on the hilt of his sword, each step echoing louder than the last. The closer he got, the colder the air became, until his breath turned to mist. The runes carved into the walls of the tower pulsed faintly as if alive, responding to his presence.

Finally, he reached the top. The figure was no longer just a shadow. It was a tall man, draped in a cloak woven from the darkest threads, his eyes glowing with an unnatural light.

“You have come,” the figure said, his voice a low, melodic hum, as if it resonated from deep within the earth itself.

Varis tightened his grip on his sword but did not speak. He was certain now that the man was tied to everything—the river’s reversal, the missing Queen, the unraveling of the kingdom itself.

“Where is the Queen?” Varis demanded. “What have you done with her?”

The figure’s lips curled into a thin smile, though his eyes never left Varis.

“The Queen,” he said, his tone almost wistful, “is not what she seems, Captain. She has never been who you thought she was.”

Varis’ heart skipped. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve felt it, haven’t you? The rift in the air. The changing of the stars. The backward flow of the river. It all points to her—no, to what she *became*.”

Varis’ mind raced. “What are you talking about?”

The figure stepped closer, the shadows of his cloak billowing as if they had a life of their own. “She awoke the Old Magic. She unlocked the seals that had bound it for millennia. The same magic that now courses through the river, reversing its flow. And when she did, she sealed her fate. You see, Queen Elara is not gone. She has *changed.*”

“Changed?” Varis’ voice was low, barely a whisper, as the horror of the truth began to settle on him.

The figure nodded, his eyes narrowing. “She has crossed into the realm between worlds, Captain. The very place where time and reality unravel. And she will return—different. Not as your Queen, but as something far darker.”

“No,” Varis spat, his grip tightening around the hilt of his sword. “You’re lying. She would never—”

The figure raised a hand, silencing him. “You believe what you want, but there is no stopping it now. The old forces are awake. And you, Varis, are in the midst of a war far greater than any you have ever fought.”

A sudden, violent gust of wind howled through the tower, the stones beneath their feet vibrating with an almost musical hum. The figure turned his face towards the horizon, his expression one of longing.

“She will return, and when she does, she will bring the end of this kingdom. And all will bow to her.”

Varis could feel his resolve hardening. “I won’t let that happen. I will stop you.”

The figure laughed softly, the sound like the rustling of dead leaves. “You cannot stop what is already in motion, Captain. The river is but a thread. And the thread is pulling the kingdom into the abyss.”

Varis didn’t wait for another word. He lunged forward, sword raised. But the figure was faster, vanishing into a shadow that dissolved into the very stone of the tower.

Varis stood alone atop the crumbling ruins, the weight of what had been revealed settling on his shoulders. The Queen was lost to them—*changed*—and the kingdom was now at the mercy of forces far older and far darker than anything he had imagined.

The wind shifted again, but this time it carried with it a faint whisper, a voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

“*It begins.*”

Varis turned, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. The world was no longer what it had been.

And there was no going back.

*Chapter Two: The Threads of Fate*

Varis stood at the summit of the tower, staring into the abyss below him, where the ruins of Lunara sprawled like the broken bones of some ancient, forgotten creature. The wind had died down, but the chill lingered, gnawing at him as if the very air had turned against him.

He had expected to find answers here—what he found instead were only more questions, and the terrifying realization that his world was spiraling into something no one could control.

He turned away from the edge and descended the tower, his footsteps heavy on the ancient stone stairs. The figure, whoever he was, was gone now, leaving only an unsettling presence in the air. Varis felt a pang of doubt. What had the man meant by “the Queen has changed”? What kind of magic could possibly undo a person so thoroughly that they became something… else? Something dark?

The thought that Elara might not be dead—only transformed—hung in his mind like a noose. The river had already reversed its course, pulling at the fabric of the land itself. If the Queen had indeed been the catalyst for whatever had awakened, then she was the key. But was she a victim of something greater, or had she willingly sought out this forbidden magic? And if she had changed, was she still *her*? Or was she already lost to them?

Varis’ mind swirled with questions, but no answers came.

He mounted his horse, his thoughts turning to the capital. Whatever had happened here in Lunara was only the beginning. There were other forces at work in the kingdom, and they were moving—just as the stars had begun to shift in their unnatural pattern. The Queen had vanished, yes, but what had truly replaced her?

*Meanwhile, in the Capital…*

The royal city of Arinthal stood as it always had, proud and majestic, its towering spires glinting in the sun’s fading light. The cobbled streets were alive with merchants, children, and the daily bustle of the people who had lived under Queen Elara’s rule for as long as they could remember. The city was a symbol of the Queen’s reign—of prosperity, peace, and stability.

Yet beneath the surface, there was a growing unease, one that no amount of gilded walls or majestic statues could mask.

Lady Solana, one of the Queen’s most trusted advisors, stood at the window of her private chambers, gazing down at the busy streets below. The city seemed unchanged, but she knew better. The signs were everywhere. The omens. The whispers in the halls. The strange way people had begun to look at one another, as though something unspeakable hovered just beyond their understanding.

The Queen had been gone for days now, and in that time, everything had shifted. Even the air felt *different*. Solana could not shake the feeling that the world was no longer as it should be.

A soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. She turned as the door creaked open, and a tall, imposing figure entered—Captain Eryndor, commander of the Royal Guard.

“My Lady,” he said, his deep voice laced with tension. “There is news from the eastern reaches. The river—”

“I know,” Solana interrupted, her voice sharp. She turned from the window, her eyes narrowing. “The river runs backward. It is no coincidence.”

Eryndor’s brow furrowed. “What does it mean, Lady Solana? The people are afraid. Rumors are spreading. They say the Queen has been taken by the gods, or worse. That she is dead.”

“I’ve heard the rumors,” Solana said grimly. “But they are wrong. I fear the truth is worse than any of them could imagine.”

The two stood in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken understanding passing between them. They both knew that the Queen’s disappearance was not a mere matter of politics. There was something far more dangerous at work—something that threatened to unravel everything.

“Have the other advisors gathered?” Eryndor asked.

“Yes,” Solana replied. “But they are… divided. Some insist the Queen is dead, while others whisper that she has fled. I fear they are not prepared for what is coming.”

“What *is* coming, Lady Solana?”

Solana’s expression darkened, and she turned back to the window. “I do not know yet. But I will find out.”

*The Ruins of Lunara*

Varis rode hard, pushing his horse through the deepening twilight as he made his way back toward the capital. His mind was still reeling from the encounter atop the tower. He could not shake the image of the figure’s eyes—the unnatural glow of them, the power that seemed to pulse in every word he spoke.

The ancient ruins of Lunara were behind him now, but they had not released their grip on his thoughts. The symbols etched into the tower walls, the whispers of Old Magic—it was as though the land itself was alive with secrets, waiting to be uncovered. But Varis did not know if he was prepared for what those secrets might reveal.

By the time he reached the outskirts of Arinthal, the moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the landscape. The city’s silhouette loomed before him, the gleaming towers still visible in the distance.

He had no time to waste. If the Queen was still alive, if she had truly crossed into the realm of the forgotten magics, then there was little time before her return. And with her return would come a power greater than anything the kingdom had ever seen.

Varis pushed his horse harder, his thoughts sharp as daggers. He had to find her, no matter the cost. He had to stop whatever this was before it tore the kingdom apart.

*In the Palace of Stars*

Solana sat in the dimly lit chamber, the flickering candles casting long shadows on the walls. Before her, a map of the kingdom was spread out, its edges marked with ancient symbols and notes in a language few could read. She traced the lines with her fingers, the contours of the land somehow shifting beneath her touch.

“The river flows backward,” she murmured to herself. “And with it, the threads of fate have become tangled. But who will pull them? Who is guiding this madness?”

A soft rustling sound interrupted her thoughts. She turned to find a figure standing in the doorway—cloaked in shadow, their face hidden beneath a hood.

“Lady Solana,” the figure said, their voice barely more than a whisper.

Her heart skipped a beat. “Who are you?”

The figure stepped forward, the air growing colder as they did. “I am a messenger. And I have come to show you the path.”

Solana stood, her hand instinctively reaching for the dagger at her waist. “What do you want?”

The figure raised a hand in a gesture of peace. “Do not be afraid, Lady Solana. I have not come to harm you. I have come to offer you a choice.”

“A choice?” Solana repeated, her voice thick with skepticism. “And what choice is that?”

The figure’s hood shifted slightly, and Solana could just make out the glint of eyes—pale, unblinking, full of ancient knowledge. “The choice to follow the path to the Queen, or to let the kingdom fall into shadow.”

Solana’s breath caught. “The Queen?”

The figure nodded slowly. “The Queen is no longer what she was. And the kingdom will not survive her return unless you act. You must decide. Will you stand against what has been unleashed, or will you join it?”

The coldness in the air seemed to grow more oppressive as Solana considered the figure’s words. Her mind was a storm of conflicting emotions—fear, doubt, and the unbearable weight of her duty.

“I… I need time,” she said, her voice trembling.

The figure’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Time is something we all lack. But remember, Lady Solana… The threads of fate are already being woven. And you must choose where you stand, before it is too late.”

With that, the figure turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Solana standing alone in the flickering candlelight, her heart heavy with the decision she knew she would soon have to make.

*Chapter Three: The Gathering Storm*

Varis rode through the gates of Arinthal as the city fell quiet under the shadow of the rising moon. The streets were mostly empty at this hour, save for the occasional figure darting through alleys or the distant clatter of carts being drawn into the markets for the morning. It felt… wrong. The usual pulse of life in the capital seemed dulled, as though something had leeched the vibrancy from the air itself.

His horse’s hooves echoed off the cobbled streets as he made his way toward the palace, the looming silhouette of the structure casting long shadows in the night. He had to see the advisors, the Council. There was no time to waste.

As he approached the grand steps leading to the Palace of Stars, two royal guards stepped forward, their eyes wary as they recognized him.

"Captain Varis," one said, his voice uncertain. "What brings you here at this hour?"

Varis didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he glanced over his shoulder toward the distant horizon, as if expecting the night to swallow him whole. The air felt thick, like the calm before a storm, but one that would tear everything apart.

“I must see Lady Solana,” he said finally, his tone firm, his voice carrying the urgency of his thoughts. “There is something you need to hear. Something the kingdom needs to know.”

The guards exchanged a look, and after a brief hesitation, one of them nodded. “You are cleared to enter. Follow me.”

Varis dismounted and followed the guard through the grand halls of the palace, the tapestries on the walls shifting in the flickering torchlight, their once-vibrant colors muted under the oppressive darkness. The silence was unnerving—no songs, no laughter, no music from the royal courts. It was as if the city itself held its breath, waiting for something terrible to happen.

At last, they arrived at the chambers of Lady Solana. The door opened, revealing the advisor standing before a table scattered with ancient maps and scrolls, her expression as unreadable as the parchment in front of her. She didn’t look up when Varis entered, but he could feel her eyes on him even before he spoke.

“Lady Solana,” he said, stepping into the room. “I’ve learned something. Something that cannot wait.”

Solana turned slowly, her face pale in the candlelight. “Captain Varis. You look... different. What has happened?”

He took a step forward, his hand reaching instinctively for the dagger at his side. He had never been one for theatrics, but the weight of the truth felt like a burden too heavy to carry alone.

“The Queen is not dead,” Varis said, his voice low and strained. “She’s... she’s changed. And the magic that brought her here—it’s beginning to unravel everything.”

Solana’s eyes narrowed. “Changed? What do you mean by that?”

He took a breath, steadying himself. "I went to Lunara, to the ruins. There is a force there, something ancient. The Queen awakened it—something in her. And the river’s reversal, the shifting stars... they’re all connected. She’s not gone, Lady Solana. She's... crossing between worlds. And when she returns, it won’t be as the Queen we knew.”

Solana’s breath caught in her throat. For a moment, she stood in silence, her face etched with disbelief. “You’re saying she’s… still alive? But… what does this mean? Where is she?”

“I don’t know,” Varis admitted. “But I know that we have little time. This kingdom—our world—is unraveling, and if we don’t act quickly, it will tear apart.”

Solana stepped closer, her gaze intense. “But how can we stop it? What power could possibly challenge something like that?”

Varis looked at her, his eyes dark with the burden of his knowledge. “I don’t know. But we have to try.”

*Meanwhile, In the Darkness Between Worlds…*

The Queen’s form flickered in the void, a shadow in the midst of the great and endless expanse. The space around her was neither fully dark nor fully light—it was a realm beyond the touch of time, where the rules of the mortal world did not apply. It was a place of whispers and echoes, where the souls of the forgotten lingered.

Elara stood motionless, her eyes closed, her hands outstretched as if reaching for something just beyond her grasp. The air around her hummed with energy—raw, unformed, a potential that stretched beyond her comprehension. And yet, something within her—something ancient and primal—understood it all.

The Queen was no longer the woman she had been.

The magic she had unleashed had pulled her from the mortal realm, severing the thread that bound her to her kingdom, and now she stood in a place where nothing—*no one*—could touch her. The power that surged within her was not the power of a queen. It was something older. Something forgotten.

But the price of awakening this power had been steep.

She could feel it now, the weight of her own soul, tethered between realms. She was neither alive nor dead, but something in between—a specter, a shadow, a ruler in exile. Yet she could feel the pull of the world she had left behind. It tugged at her, a faint whisper growing louder by the moment.

She had been cast from her world, yes. But there was a way back. And when she returned—if she returned—it would not be as the ruler they had once known.

Elara’s eyes fluttered open, her pupils glowing with an eerie light. For a moment, she seemed lost in the vastness around her, her form barely visible in the swirling shadows. But then she smiled.

“I will return,” she whispered, the words echoing in the emptiness. “And when I do, I will make them bow before me.”

*Back in Arinthal*

Lady Solana paced the chamber, the weight of Varis’s words hanging heavily in the air. The truth was settling on her like a shroud, suffocating and inescapable. The Queen—her dear friend, her sovereign—was lost, yes, but not in the way they had thought. The ancient magic, the dark forces now unleashed, were beyond anything the kingdom’s scholars had ever predicted.

“The Queen has crossed into another realm,” Solana murmured, more to herself than anyone else. “But why? Why would she risk such a thing? What did she hope to find?”

Varis stood by the window, staring out at the moonlit city below. The distant hills seemed to pulse with an unnatural energy, as if the land itself was holding its breath. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “But I do know that we have to act. We need to prepare. For whatever is coming.”

Solana nodded, though her mind raced with a dozen possibilities, none of them comforting. She had always known that there were forces in the world that humans couldn’t fully understand—gods, demons, ancient magics. But this... this was something different. Something far older than anything the kingdom had ever faced.

And there was one more thing—the figure she had met earlier, the cloaked messenger who had offered her a choice. His words haunted her, echoing in her mind like a warning:

*"You must choose. Will you stand against what has been unleashed, or will you join it?"*

The question had been simple, but its implications were terrifying. What was the right choice? And if she did nothing, would the kingdom simply fall into darkness?

“We need to speak to the other advisors,” Solana said, her voice firm, a resolve beginning to take root. “We must prepare for the worst.”

Varis turned to her, his eyes filled with grim determination. “I’ll gather the Guard. Whatever happens, we’ll be ready.”

Solana hesitated, then spoke again, her voice quieter this time. “Varis… If the Queen is returning—if she truly *changes*… can we fight her? Can we stop her?”

Varis didn’t reply immediately. For a long moment, he simply stared at her, his eyes hard with something between fear and acceptance. “I don’t know. But we will try.”

*Chapter Four: The Tides of Power*

The nights had grown darker since the Queen's disappearance. The stars themselves seemed to shift uneasily in the sky, as if they were witnesses to something vast and terrible unfolding. Solana could feel the weight of it—the pull of fate—and with each passing hour, the tension within the palace seemed to tighten.

She had summoned the Council of Advisors, though she knew it would do little to soothe the mounting dread in her chest. The once-proud body of advisors, those who had long held the reins of the kingdom with Elara, now felt like a broken shell. Many of the senior members had already begun to voice their doubts. Some insisted the Queen’s absence was temporary, that she would return in time. Others whispered that she had been taken, and with her, the kingdom’s thread of fate had snapped.

Solana had no answers for them—only that the world was changing. The river was flowing backward. And the old magics, the forbidden powers that had been sealed away for centuries, were awakening once more.

As Solana entered the grand chamber where the Council had gathered, the room fell silent. The murmurs of discontent and speculation ceased immediately. All eyes turned to her—expecting leadership, answers, something to quell the growing sense of panic that gripped the city.

“My friends,” Solana began, her voice steady despite the storm brewing within her. She had to hold herself together. She could not afford to falter. “We are facing a crisis unlike any we have ever known. The Queen has vanished, but she has not died. I have seen the signs. The magics she unleashed when she sought the Old Power—they have… changed her.”

The room stirred with confusion and disbelief. Solana’s heart clenched. She knew what she was about to say would shake them to their core, but there was no turning back.

“The Queen has crossed into another realm. She has opened a gateway to something ancient and terrible. And we cannot know what she has become… or what will return in her place.”

The chamber was now filled with voices—some protesting, others demanding answers, but Solana held up her hand, silencing them.

“I know this is difficult to accept,” she continued, “but the magic that brought her here is no longer just a force we can control. The river flows backward, and the stars themselves are misaligned. If we do not act, the kingdom will unravel.”

“Lady Solana, you speak of forces we cannot understand!” a voice called out from the far side of the room. It was Lord Tarek, a high-ranking advisor and master of the kingdom’s finances. He was a man of logic, of reason—a pragmatist who did not believe in the supernatural. “You speak of ancient magic and realms beyond our own—things that belong in fairy tales, not in our council chambers!”

“There is nothing fantastical about what has occurred, my lord,” Solana replied, her voice cold. “The forces we face are very real, and we must prepare for what is to come.”

“We cannot prepare for something we don’t understand,” Tarek countered. “We need to focus on stability. The people are frightened enough as it is. If they hear of this talk of ‘other realms,’ they will panic.”

“And what would you have us do?” Solana’s voice rose, her patience wearing thin. “Pretend the Queen is still here? That everything is normal? There is a darkness coming, and we have no time left to debate.”

Her eyes swept the room, landing on a few of the quieter members of the council—those who had always stood by her and Elara in times of trouble. They were not speaking now, and Solana could feel the weight of their silence.

“What do you propose we do, then?” asked Lord Baelon, a man known for his pragmatic approach to diplomacy. “The Queen is gone. Perhaps you are right, and she has changed—but how can we fight something we cannot see? We are ill-prepared for this. What is it you suggest?”

Solana did not hesitate. She had known the question would come. “We will send a group to Lunara. Captain Varis will lead an expedition there, to uncover whatever secrets the ruins might hold. And I will take a small party to the southern reaches, to consult with the Oracle of Kalyath.”

“The Oracle?” Baelon repeated, his tone skeptical. “Are you suggesting we rely on the words of a madwoman who has not been seen in twenty years?”

“I suggest we consider all options,” Solana said evenly. “The Oracle has knowledge of the old magic—knowledge we cannot afford to ignore. If the Queen has truly unleashed a force from beyond our world, we may need to understand that power before we can face it.”

“I will go with you,” Varis said suddenly, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. He had been standing at the back, leaning against the doorway, but now he stepped forward, his expression grim.

The room fell silent again, all eyes turning to him. Varis was known for his strength, his loyalty, and his bravery. But his words now carried the weight of something far more dire than a mere soldier’s resolve.

“We need to act quickly,” he continued. “The magic at Lunara, the reversal of the river, the whispers that have been growing in the eastern provinces—all of it is connected. If the Queen has crossed into another realm, we don’t know what she’s found there—or who she has become. We can’t let that power spill over into our world without knowing how to stop it.”

“You’re suggesting we confront her,” Tarek sneered. “What if she has already become something more than a queen? Something that cannot be stopped?”

Varis’ gaze hardened. “Then we will make sure that whatever comes back… never leaves again.”

Solana felt the weight of his words, but she also felt the burning resolve that pulsed through him. If anyone could lead an expedition to find the truth, it was Varis. He would find the Queen, or whatever had taken her, and they would put an end to it.

*Meanwhile, in the Realm Between Worlds...*

The shadows were thick, and the air was heavy with the scent of ancient earth. Elara stood at the center of an endless expanse, the edges of the realm stretching into infinity. She could see the flickering remnants of a thousand worlds—some familiar, some strange—but none of them her own.

She had crossed the threshold, walked the line between life and death, and now she was bound here, in this place between worlds. She could feel her power growing stronger by the hour, flowing through her like a river that could no longer be stopped. It was a power beyond anything she had known in the mortal realm, but with it came a terrible loneliness.

She had been cast out. Torn away from everything she knew.

But in this place, she had begun to understand. She had begun to see things as they truly were.

The figures that moved at the edges of her vision were not just shadows—they were remnants of those who had fallen before. Beings that had crossed over, and had been consumed by the darkness that lay between worlds. They whispered to her now, their voices a cacophony of longing and regret.

"Return to them, Queen," one voice hissed, cold and sibilant. "Let them see what you have become. Let them bow before you."

Elara shuddered at the voice, but it was not fear she felt. It was power—raw and intoxicating.

The Queen closed her eyes, breathing deeply. She could feel the pull of her kingdom, a tug at the edges of her being. She was not gone. She was not lost. She was changing.

But when she returned, she would not be the ruler they had known. She would be something else entirely.

And they would worship her.