Chapter 22: Danger
"...My daughter... Your soul can finally rest in peace... once I reduce this kingdom to ash."
The Mad Mage stood atop a cliff overlooking the glowing spires of the kingdom, her tattered white robe dancing in the wind like a mourning veil. Her laughter cracked through the silence—wild, broken, unhinged. It echoed through the mountains like a curse from the gods themselves.
Tears streamed down her pale cheeks, hot with anguish, cold with centuries of betrayal. The glint in her crimson eyes was not one of madness, but of relentless grief sharpened into purpose.
"I will not forgive them... I will never forgive them..."
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Hundreds of years ago...
She was once a woman of grace and warmth. Her name forgotten by the world, but once spoken with affection by those she loved. Her life had been simple, filled with laughter, garden strolls, the gentle hum of lullabies, and the sturdy arms of her husband—a valiant knight, a hero honored and respected across the land.
Her daughter, a gentle soul with curious eyes and a laugh that could melt even the coldest heart, had been her joy. Together, the three of them lived a life of peace in a small, sunlit manor gifted to them by the king himself, a reward for her husband's countless victories on the battlefield.
But peace, like dreams, can shatter in an instant.
One fateful winter, the horns of war howled. The demons had breached the outer borders. Her husband, duty-bound, rode off with his silver blade, promising to return. Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months.
Then the banner came—folded, black, and bloodied.