The River Ran Backwards on the Day the Queen Vanished

The river, that once teemed with activity under the reign of the Kingdom’s power, now seemed to back its way from the main city. The emerald streams crawled back into the hills like an injured snake.

As for the castle, the Queen vanished into thin air that morning, apart from the traces of lavender and a lady’s silk glove she left in her room. No one had witnessed her departure; on the other hand, the guards at the gates assumed that they heard her faint step on the pavement a minute before dawn broke.

Princess Liora, the only child to Queen Liora was out in the balcony of the castle gazing at the weird view of the river loosening up. The coldness sent a shiver up her spine when the trees in the distance seemed to be speaking and secrets lingered in the air.

“Mother,” Liora breathed, her voice shaking. "Where have you gone?"

The Royal Council convened in haste. The monarch – exhausted and burdened by stress from decades of running the empire with a heavyweight, deep on kratom that- how to describe – was deeply deflated from within. He was seated in a regal manner at the head of the table, his arms grasped on the sides of the table like a frightened child clinging onto a wall for support.

“Time is of the essence,” said Lord Theron who was the leader of the Council and did not have a friendly face as was the weather outdoors. "The Queen is gone, and with her, the magic that keeps our kingdom in balance. We cannot afford to waste time."

"Do you think she has been taken?" Princess Liora asked, stepping forward from the shadows of the grand hall. Her eyes, bright with a fire her father had never seen before, fixed on Lord Theron. "Was it the work of the Elders of the Deep? Or the Forgotten Ones?"

Lord Theron’s eyes flickered, but he did not answer. A note about Elders, who were ancient beings living underneath the surface of the earth, brought back some darkness into the room. The Forgotten Ones were dark creatures of void and memory which were spoken of only in the most dread soaked of tones.

"Enough," King Kaelen rasped, his voice breaking through the rising tension. "Liora, we must find your mother. You must go to the river. It is the only place where the magic still lingers."

The princess nodded, though her heart quaked. She had spent years studying the old texts, the forgotten lore of the kingdom, and knew well the power the river held. It was no ordinary water—it was the vein of Eldorath, a force that connected the land to the heart of the world itself. The Queen had always said the river was a living thing, and when it faltered, so would Eldorath.

"Gather your things, child," King Kaelen continued. "I will send word to the Order of the Stars. They may know of some prophecy that will help us understand this madness."

As Liora turned to leave, her eyes caught the glint of something on the table—a crystal pendant her mother always wore, now lying abandoned beside a letter sealed with the royal crest. She paused.

"Father," she said, lifting the pendant. "This was hers."

Her father’s eyes widened, and for a moment, she thought she saw fear flicker in them. "You must go, Liora. Don’t waste time with things that don’t matter."

But Liora was not one to be dissuaded. She took the pendant and the letter, tucking them safely into her cloak. She could feel the pulse of the magic inside the stone, and for the first time, she wondered if her mother’s disappearance was no accident.

Outside, the world was eerily still. The river had ceased its backward march, but the air felt thick with tension, as if the land itself were holding its breath. The people of Eldorath moved in hushed whispers, eyes wide with uncertainty.

Liora made it to the river and leaned over to view the water’s moving surface. She shut her eyes and expanded her mind outwards where she could feel the feel of the land, and the rhythmic flow of the river. It was weak, faltering.

“Mother,” she whispered again, and this time, there was a response.

A cold wind blew, and the river shifted, as though beckoning her forward. The trees growing on the riverbanks creaked as if to signal a danger approaching, still Liora did not flinch. She entered the river letting the water embrace her legs and chill her to the bones. The river was there and it seemed like it had been waiting for her.

The landscapes kept on changing with moving forward. The sun was setting and the trees contorted into unnatural positions. A strange noise penetrated the air, akin to the music of a lost civilization. Liora did not cease to move, the river urging her further into the wilderness, through crumbled cities and overgrown shrines, until she reached a large crack in the ground, the mouth of a river that fell into a huge underground body of water.

And in the midst of the water body was a tower that was as dark as coal, protruding from the water with its outstretched hand appearing to touch the sky. The river matched this empire as it flowed into the bottom of the tower.

Liora knew this place. It was the Lost Keep—the seat of the Elders, the ones who had once ruled the magic of the world. But it had been forgotten for centuries. A significant period had lapsed since the last sighting of the Elders, their original strength having been taken away by the ancestors of the Queen who had appeared to maintain the equilibrium between the world of men and the underwater worlds and magic alike. But now the river had brought her here and the sound of magic was most profound.

She walked across the chasm bridge and entered the tower where her steps could be heard within the large empty interior. There was a heaviness in the air, as if something very old was present, and the walls appeared to speak of things that were not meant for mortals to hear.

At the heart of the tower stood a throne, empty and cold. And there, kneeling before it, was the Queen.

Her mother’s golden hair shimmered, but her eyes were empty, glazed over with a faraway look. The pendant Liora had found lay around her mother’s neck, pulsing with a soft light.

"Mother!" Liora cried, rushing forward.

The Queen jerked her head up, her gaze zeroing in on Liora’s with such focus it rendered her momentarily speechless. “You should not have come, child,” the Queen spoke, her voice audible only to Liora, yet echoing within the chamber ominously. "The river… it was never meant to be reversed."

"But why did you leave? What happened to you?" Liora demanded.

The Queen stood, her movements slow and deliberate. "The Elders... they never truly left, Liora. They only slept. And now they are awakening. I had to seal them away, but their power is stirring once more. And with it, the river... the magic."

Liora’s heart pounded. "So you... you vanished to stop them?"

The Queen nodded. "To stop them from breaking the world."

"But the river..." Liora began, her mind racing. "The river is a part of them, isn’t it?"

"Yes," the Queen replied softly. "And now that you are here, you must decide. Will you restore the balance, or will you let them rise again?"

Liora's gaze drifted to the pendant that her mother wore at her neck, the dim light glowing from the heart of the pendant. She had always believed that the river bore the enchantment of their land but the extent of its strength was beyond her understanding.

The air seemed to thrum with energy as the choice loomed before her. To restore the balance meant to sever the connection between the river and the world’s magic, to banish the Elders back into their slumber. But in doing so, she would lose the magic that had sustained Eldorath for generations.

"You are the heir now," the Queen’s voice trembled. "The choice is yours."

Liora shut her eyelids, allowing the pressure of the choice to hold her down. There was a singing of a river somewhere far away. It was a strong and mournful sound. She understood now. The river was more than just water. It was the lifeblood of Eldorath—and of the magic that flowed through all things.

“I will not let them rise,” Liora said at last. "I will protect the kingdom, even if it means losing everything."

With that, she stepped forward and placed her hand on the pendant. The glow flared bright, and the ground trembled beneath her feet. The river’s flow shifted once more, and the Elders, though they stirred, were sent back into their prison. The magic of Eldorath was restored—though at a cost.

The Queen smiled faintly, and with a final, tender touch, she faded into the light, leaving Liora alone in the tower.

As the river returned to its proper course, Liora stood alone on the banks, the weight of the world now resting on her shoulders. But the kingdom would survive, and with time, she would learn to rule—not as her mother had, but in her own way, with the river’s magic flowing through her veins.