CHAPTER ONE THE DREAM
The night was heavy with silence. Over the four kingdoms, the full moon rose like a glowing omen, its pale light spilling across the towers of Asteroth's Iron Citadel. Inside the king's chamber, torches flickered uneasily, as if whispering warnings only the flames could hear.
Lord Astheroth lay in his grand bed, resting beside one of his concubines. She slept peacefully but he did not. His breath was shallow, his body tense. Something unseen tugged at him, dragging his spirit deeper and deeper into the realm of dreams.
Until suddenly he was no longer in his chamber.
Astheroth found himself alone in a silent forest, surrounded by towering trees and drifting mist. The forest was calm, almost unnaturally so. Only distant birdsong broke the stillness.
He turned slowly, confusion tightening his jaw.
From above, an eagle soared down majestically, wings spread wide. It landed on a branch of a massive oak behind him and looked at him with knowing eyes.
The king frowned.
Before he could react
WHOOSH! An arrow sliced through the air from nowhere, striking the eagle straight in its chest.
The bird let out a dying cry and fell to the ground, lifeless.
Astheroth stumbled backward, fear twisting his heart.
"What madness is this?"
A sudden rustling exploded behind him as a wild boar burst from the bushes, tusks sharp, breath steaming in fury. Terrified, Astheroth ran, crashing through branches, his heartbeat thundering in his ears.
He burst from the trees into a vast open plain, the sky unnaturally bright above him.
There standing completely still was a woman.
An ancient priestess.
Her hair was long and white like newly fallen snow. A tall staff sat firmly in her right hand. She did not face him; instead, she stared up at the sky as though waiting for some celestial sign.
Astheroth hesitated, shaken. Yet something about her presence pulled him forward.
He took a careful step.
The priestess spoke.
Her voice was like the winds in their full strength, sweeping through his bones:
"Do not come close."
She slowly turned.
And he froze in terror.
She had no face.
Only swirling black smoke where her face should be shifting, spiraling, breathing like a living shadow.
Astheroth collapsed to his knees in fear.
"Wh-who are you, great one? Tell me!"
"You do not need to know who I am," she answered, her voice echoing across the plain. "But you must know this"
The sky darkened. The earth trembled beneath him. The wind howled violently.
Her staff rose.
"YOU ARE JUDGED… AND CONDEMNED."
Astheroth's voice trembled. "Judged? Condemned for what?"
The faceless priestess turned her featureless head toward him, the black smoke swirling like a storm.
"I am not here to answer your questions," she said, her voice rising like the roar of a thousand winds. "I am here to deliver the decree of the Ancients upon you, King Astheroth."
Astheroth's throat tightened. "Decree…?"
"The cry of the innocent blood you have spilled," she thundered, "has risen and now speaks against you."
"I spilled no innocent blood!" Astheroth shouted, scrambling backward on his knees. "Everything I did, I did for the good of the kingdom!"
"Liar." Her word struck him like a blow.
"You did all things under the weight of your greed," she said. "You lusted for power. For wealth. For control over life and death. Your hunger has drawn the wrath of the Ancients upon you."
She lifted her staff slowly.
"Now I stand to judge you by the Prophecy of the Last Sword bearer."
Lightning cracked across the dream sky.
"A child shall be born under the full moon," she declared, "and he shall rise to defeat you and every drop of your bloodline. He shall erase your name from the face of the earth… and rule in your stead."
Astheroth collapsed fully, shaking. "No… No! Show me mercy, Ancient One. I beg you show mercy!"
"There is no mercy for you," she said. "And there is no mercy written in the scrolls of the Ancients."
Suddenly the black smoke that formed her faceless head ignited into blazing fire, roaring upward like a living flame.
Astheroth shielded his face as the priestess dissolved into swirling light.
A blast of blinding light swallowed him whole.
And Astheroth woke with a violent gasp.
THE KING AWAKENS
He jolted upright in his bed, drenched in sweat. His concubine stirred beside him, startled.
"My lord? What is it?"
Astheroth didn't answer. His chest heaved, his eyes wide with fear. The dream still echoed inside him, heavy and real. Far too real.
He swung his feet to the floor.
"This was no dream," he whispered. "This was a warning…"
A prophecy.
He hurried to the balcony, staring at the glowing full moon. It looked exactly as it had in his dream bright, watchful, merciless.
Rage and fear twisted in his gut.
He summoned the guards immediately.
"Bring me my council. Now."
THE SUMMONING
Within minutes, three advisors knelt before him in his throne room:
General Varkon High Scholar Morath Priestess Velamira
Astheroth paced like a caged beast, recounting the dream in harsh, clipped breaths. When he finished, the room fell silent with dread.
Velamira spoke first. "My king… the prophecy of the Last Sword bearer has awakened. A child born under the full moon, touched by the stars, destined to wield the Titan-forged Sword."
Morath adjusted his scroll, trembling.
"The dream's symbols the eagle, the boar, the faceless priestess they all point to the chosen child. One… who will rise against you."
"My lord, the prophecy of the Last Swordbearer warns that the child will come from among the people… not from royalty. This means"
"It means," Astheroth snapped, "that he could be born anywhere. To anyone."
Silence strangled the chamber.
Then the king spoke the words that would set the kingdoms ablaze.
"Bring every pregnant woman from all four kingdoms to Blood castle. Immediately. Tonight."
Velamira gasped. "My king surely the Priestess Dianna must be consulted first."
"I am the law," Astheroth thundered. "And I will not fall to some star-blessed brat!"
He struck the ground with his staff, its echo rolling like a storm across the halls.
"Send out the soldiers. Drag them here if you must. All of them."
General Varkon bowed his head. "As you command… Lord Astheroth."
The orders spread like wildfire.
By dawn, thousands of torches flickered across the roads as soldiers marched door to door, commanding every pregnant woman to the Iron Citadel. Crying families, trembling mothers, and confused crowds filled the night.
Fear had awakened.
The prophecy had begun.
And somewhere far from the castle in a small, quiet village… a young woman named Elara woke with a gasp.
Her hand flew to her swollen belly.
A strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin, spreading like gentle fire… a warmth that did not feel earthly. A warmth that felt like starlight.
Her breath trembled.
"What… what is happening to me?"
The glow grew stronger soft at first, then brighter, as though the child inside her stirred with a power far beyond her understanding.
She reached for the small oil lamp beside her bed…When suddenly…
A cold hand clamped over her mouth.
Elara tried to scream, but the sound was smothered. Her eyes widened in terror as a shadowy figure pressed close, its other hand gripping her shoulders.
She struggled… kicking, clawing, fighting for air but the hand only tightened.
The starlight in her belly flickered faintly.
Her lungs burned.
Her vision blurred.
And as the full moon shone brightly through the window, Elara's body finally went still. Her eyes rolled back.
She fainted, collapsing into the arms of the unknown intruder.
The shadowy figure lifted her quietly… carefully… as though carrying something priceless.
Then without a sound They vanished into the night.
THE HUNT BEGINS
At that same moment, far beyond the distant hills, a terrible command left King Astheroth's throne room and swept through the four kingdoms like a violent storm.
Armor clashed.
Boots thundered.
Families screamed.
Doors were kicked open. Mothers cried out as soldiers dragged them away. Husbands fought until they were beaten to their knees. Every pregnant woman, rich or poor, noble or slave, was torn from her home under the harsh glare of torchlight.
"By order of King Astheroth!" the soldiers roared.
"All pregnant women are to be taken to Blood Castle tonight!"
Fear rippled through villages like an earthquake.
Women whispered in trembling huddles as they were herded into large wooden caravans.
"What will happen to us?" one asked.
"We won't know… not until we reach the temple," another replied.
"Why is the order strictly for pregnant women" she asked again
A third whispered shakily, "Maybe they want to sacrifice our children to the goddess Diana."
"Silence," an older woman snapped. "The goddess does not feed on children."
A heavy silence followed.
Then a soft voice broke it.
A young woman, heavily pregnant, barely able to stand without holding her belly, lifted her eyes to the full moon.
"I heard there is a prophecy," she whispered. "A child destined to be born under the full moon of Calistia. The king seeks him… to destroy him."
Gasps filled the caravan.
"Why will the king seek to destroy an innocent child".
He is probably a threat to the king, maybe a curse child
The quiet woman raised her head sharply.
"Not cursed," she said. "Blessed. For he is a child of the Ancient Gods."
Her voice held a strange, unsettling certainty.
A guard approached her.
"You. What is your name?"
She met his gaze without flinching.
"My name is Mira."
"Mira, be quiet," he said, then walked away.
Across the kingdom, soldiers dragged terrified women from behind haystacks and barrels. Some fainted. Some clutched their bellies and whispered prayers. Others fought until their strength gave out.
The caravans continued their sorrowful march toward Blood Castle.
BLOOD CASTLE
Inside the ancient stone walls, the air pulsed with dark incense.
Priestess Velamira, the only true priestess of the castle, oversaw the examinations. Her two pale-robed servants assisted her, holding glowing stones that shimmered with faint divine energy.
One by one, Velamira pressed the stones against the women's swollen bellies, chanting soft incantations.
They searched for starlight.
A faint glow.
A divine spark.
Anything.
But they found nothing.
Velamira's expression hardened.
She approached Head Guard Lukas.
"We have examined every woman," she said. "The child-bearer is not here."
Lukas frowned. "Impossible. Every registered pregnant woman in the four kingdoms is inside this temple."
Velamira's voice turned cold. "Do not insult my instincts. Someone is missing."
"Cross-check the list again," she said
He quickly left.
Suddenly, a cry tore through the temple hall.
"Aaaah!"
Velamira turned sharply. "What was that?"
One servant rushed in. "My lady, one woman is in labor."
"Take her to the inner room," Velamira commanded.
Her second servant hesitated. "What shall we do with her
Make sure she delivers successfully but, Velamira's eyes darkened.
"If it is a boy, kill him.
If it is a girl, let her live."
The servants exchanged worried glances.
"Yes, my lady."
Moments later, guards marched in.
"My lady," Lukas said, "our records show one woman missing. Her name is Elara. She has vanished. And her husband is also missing."
Velamira's jaw tightened.
"He must have fled with her. Find them immediately."
"I already sent three troops ," Lukas replied.
"Good. We cannot fail the king."
"My lady," a guard ventured, "should we bring back alive back to the temple?"
"No," Velamira said sharply. "Any pregnant woman found outside this castle disobeyed the king's command. That is treason. Kill her at once." and bring her dead body back for the rituals.
"But the king—"
"Even the king would have them beheaded any one who dares to disobey him. So Do as I say."
Lukas bowed. "Yes, my lady."
THE CAVE
A cold drop of water echoed in the darkness.
Plip… plip… plip…
Elara stirred.
Her eyes fluttered open. Panic rushed through her chest. She wasn't in her village. She wasn't in her bed. She lay on a stone slab, the air damp and cold.
Then she saw him.
The intruder.
The cloaked stranger who had taken her.
He sat silently on a rock with his back turned, the dim fire outlining his shape.
Elara's heart hammered.
Her hand flew to her belly.
Warmth met her palm, pulsing gently.
The child was alive.
She looked back at him.
He sat too still.
Too silent.
Like a statue.
Fear shot through her.
Her eyes scanned the area until she spotted a broken pottery shard near her foot. Slowly and quietly she reached for it.
Then she sprang to her feet.
"Stay away from me!"
She swung with all her strength.
The shard struck his shoulder and shattered.
He did not move.
Not an inch.
Elara stumbled backward.
"What… what are you?"
Slowly, he raised his head.
THE GUARDIAN SPEAKS
"You should not fear me, Elara."
His voice was deep and calm.
Elara froze. "How do you know my name?"
"I know much about you."
He rose to his full height.
He was human, yet unlike any human she had ever seen.
His hair was white like sacred wool.
His eyes burned like living fire.
Light flowed beneath his skin like golden veins.
Two runic swords hung across his back.
His cloak shifted like living shadow.
A presence of power, wrapped in sorrow.
"Why did you take me?" she whispered.
"To save you."
"From what?"
He stepped closer, firelight playing on his face.
"From death."
Elara swallowed hard. "The king hunts pregnant women?"
"He hunts you."
"Why me?"
"You carry the child marked by the Ancient Flame. The one who will rise with the Last Sword."
"No… I'm just a simple woman."
"Elara, the light inside you is not earthly. The king fears what he cannot control."
Her voice trembled. "Who are you?"
He bowed his head.
"I am Aleron.
Guardian of the Hidden Paths.
Servant of the Ancient Flame."
"You're not human," she whispered.
"No. But I am bound to protect you until your child is born."
THE TRUTH OF HER HUSBAND
"I want my husband," Elara cried. "I want to go home."
Aleron hesitated.
"Elara… your husband is dead."
She froze.
"That's not true!"
"I do not lie."
"You don't even know what he looks like!"
"I met him."
Her breath hitched.
"Where?"
"At the edge of death. He was attacked by raiders two days ago. I arrived too late."
Elara shook her head. "No… no!"
"He told me his name was Kieth. He begged me to protect you."
Aleron reached into his cloak and held out a small wrapped object.
"He asked me to give you this… and to tell you he is sorry."
Her hands trembled as she unwrapped it.
A scream tore from her throat.
She fell to the ground sobbing. When Aleron tried to approach, she pushed him away.
He stepped back and let her grieve.
TORCHES IN THE DISTANCE
Hours later, a vibration shivered through the cavern floor.
Aleron turned sharply.
Elara stiffened. "What is that?"
"Soldiers."
Outside, dozens of torches flickered through the trees.
"They have reached the village," Aleron said. "They will soon search these hills."
"What do we do?" she whispered.
"Come with me. We must go deeper. The ancient paths will hide us."
She hesitated.
"Elara… there is no time."
She placed her hand in his.
They ran.
THE CREATURE
The deeper they went, the stranger the cave became. Symbols glowed softly on the walls.
Then a low growl rose from the darkness.
A monstrous creature lunged toward Elara.
She screamed.
Aleron moved faster than thought. His sword flashed and the beast fell in a burst of dark mist.
Elara fell into his arms, trembling violently.
"It's alright," he whispered. "You are safe with me."
Her breathing steadied against him.
Then her belly began to glow softly.
"Aleron… it's glowing again."
He looked down at her.
Their faces were inches apart.
Her fear had softened into something fragile and alive.
"Elara," he murmured.
She did not pull away.
She stayed close.
Their breathing slowed.
Their foreheads nearly touched.
The glow warmed both of them.
Aleron raised a hand gently, giving her time to move.
She didn't.
Her eyes held his.
Slowly, they leaned closer.
Their lips met in a soft, trembling kiss.
Her glow brightened, filling the cavern with warm light.
And neither stepped away.