Amidst vast wilderness, where the trees whispered ancient secrets and nocturnal creatures roamed with eerie grace, the night sky hid its luminous glimmer, casting the world into an impenetrable darkness. It was a moonless night, when the inky blackness enveloped everything like a velvety cloak, making it hard to see the familiar shapes and landscapes around.
In the distance, a lone figure could be seen traversing the obscured trails, navigating with a familiarity that suggested a deep connection to the darkness. Silhouetted against the pitch-black canvas, the figure moved stealthily, each step calculated and precise, like a dancer performing a macabre routine under the watchful eye of the hidden stars.
Clutching a crumpled piece of paper in his hand, he muttered to himself, "She must not have gone too far."
He whispered to his companions hidden in the darkness “keep looking.”
His group disappeared in shadows as if they were never there.
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“KYAAAAAAAAA”
The piercing cry echoed through the ancient trees, sending shivers down the spines of the creatures that inhabited the dense forest. The once tranquil and undisturbed wilderness was now alive with a cacophony of alarmed voices.
“Grrrrrrrrr”
“Aaaaauuuuuuuu”
In graceful unison, the birds took flight, their wings slicing through the air with effortless precision. Their keen senses attuned to the mysterious sound that had disturbed the forest's peace, they worked together like a celestial compass, seeking the heart of the disturbance.
And as the night continued to weave its magic, the winged beings gradually ascended, returning to their ethereal homes high above the canopy.
“Your highness Princess are you alright? I implore you to speak softly; we don’t know what kinds of Monsters lurk in the darkness of this treacherous forest.”
The princess, her heart still pounding from the sudden injury, nodded in response to the knight's cautionary words.
The man in knightly armor was Sir Roland, a seasoned and battle-hardened warrior who had served the royal family for decades. Despite the passage of time, he remained in peak physical condition, his muscular build and steely gaze commanding respect and admiration from all who beheld him.
Beside him, a female knight, Lady Elara, in her mid-thirties spoke up, her voice tinged with concern. "Apart from the beasts, we are already on the run. That royal hound may catch up to us soon."
"Oh, Your Highness, let me see," Sir Roland said with genuine concern, rushing to the princess's side. He knelt beside her, his eyes scanning the ground to find the source of her pain.
Lady Elara joined them, her face a mask of worry. "Easy now, Princess. Let us help you," she said, kneeling on the other side of the princess.
Examining the princess's foot, Lady Elara and Sir Roland quickly identified the source of her distress. There, hidden in her shoe, was a small, sharp spike that had caused her agony. With gentle precision, they carefully removed it, eliciting a pained gasp from the princess. Her tears silently streamed down her cheeks, a testament to the suffering she had endured.
“Ah… ouch… kkkKKYAAMMMMMMMMMM,” the princess stifled a cry, clenching her fists as she fought to suppress her voice. Lady Elara placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, understanding the need for secrecy in this perilous place.
Albert’s frustration was evident in his voice as he spoke, "Damn it, I wish we didn't lose the priestess. With her healing powers, we could have had the princess instantly mended and been on our way further." He clenched his teeth, his hands tightening into fists.
The loss of the priestess weighed heavily on their hearts. Her abilities could have been the key to swiftly mending the princess's injuries and providing them with the strength to continue their journey. But circumstances had conspired against them, and they now found themselves without her crucial aid.
“T-to think they would even attack a priestess from Temple of Hera, the new Emperor have either lost it completely or is a demon in human’s skin” added Elara.
"We must safely reach the Gaul Empire," Lady Elara whispered to Sir Roland, her voice laden with determination. "They are the only ones who can offer protection from the malevolent forces at play. But we must be cautious, for the surrounding kingdoms have become vassals to the new king, who seeks the princess's demise."
"We must disguise ourselves and live as commoners," Lady Elara thought, deciding to shield the princess from the weight of their perilous situation.
"It's okay, Your Highness. You're safe now," Sir Roland reassured her ignoring Albert’s complaints, his voice soft and soothing. "We'll tend to your wound, and you'll be on your feet again in no time."
With drops of tears glued to her eye lashes, she tries her best to endure the painful medieval styled first aid.
As Lady Elara fetched a clean cloth and water from her pack, Sir Roland inspected the wound. It wasn't too serious, but it had pierced the princess's foot deeply enough to cause discomfort.
Gently, they cleaned the wound, and the princess bravely bore the stinging sensation, knowing it was necessary for her healing. Throughout the process, Sir Roland and Lady Elara maintained a calm and composed demeanor, offering words of comfort and encouragement to the princess.
"Thank you, both of you," the princess said, her voice still quivering with pain. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
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"Your Highness, fear not," he reassured the princess in a deep, resonant voice. "I am here to safeguard you, and no harm shall befall you as long as I draw breath."
As they continued their journey through the treacherous forest, Sir Roland's vigilant eyes scanned their surroundings, ever watchful for any sign of danger. His armor clinked softly with each purposeful step, a comforting sound that echoed the authority and protection he offered.
"We cannot afford to linger here any longer. Princess, if you can manage, please walk with the support of Lady Elara and me. We will move swiftly but cautiously to minimize any signs of our presence."
The princess nodded, her determination shining through the pain. She leaned on Sir Roland and Lady Elara for support, and together, they set off through the dark and treacherous forest.
Albert, the seasoned tracker of their group, led the way, his senses sharp and alert. He navigated through the dense foliage with skill, avoiding branches and twigs that might betray their movements. The looming threat of the ferocious beast and the watchful eyes of the birds above urged them onward, pushing them to maintain their vigilance.
As they moved, the forest seemed to come alive with hidden dangers. Every rustle of leaves and distant sound sent shivers down their spines, a constant reminder of the perils that surrounded them. But Sir Roland, Lady Elara, and Albert remained focused and determined, guiding the princess with a sense of unwavering purpose.
Albert's keen eyes scanned the treetops, his senses sharp and alert. He knew that the creatures in this forest were not to be trifled with, and any wrong move could attract unwanted attention. The birds were particularly dangerous, acting as sentinels for unseen dangers below.
"Keep your heads low, everyone," he whispered again, his voice barely audible above the rustling leaves. "If the birds notice us and start making sound, we might just give away our location."
Finally, they reached a more concealed area, offering some respite from the watchful eyes above. Albert signaled for a momentary halt, allowing the group to catch their breath and assess their surroundings.
As the companions cautiously ventured into the concealed area, they were met with a sight that took their breath away. The place before them bore all the hallmarks of a tomb that had stood the test of time for thousands of years. The air was thick with the scent of ancient stone, and a solemn aura enveloped the space.
The tomb's entrance was grand and imposing, adorned with intricate carvings and symbols that told stories of forgotten civilizations and lost histories. The stone walls, weathered by centuries of existence, held secrets that were waiting to be unraveled. It was as if time itself had etched its mark upon the walls, leaving behind a legacy of mysteries.
"We're making good progress," Sir Roland said, a touch of relief in his voice. "But we cannot lower our guard. We must continue moving until we find a safer place to rest."
The princess nodded; determination etched on her face. With the guidance and protection of her loyal companions, she felt a renewed sense of hope in the face of adversity.
Sir Roland lit a torch as he led the companions deeper into the tomb.
Inside the tomb, torchlight flickered and danced, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The companions' footsteps echoed softly, reverberating through the solemn silence that enveloped the space. The air felt heavy with history, and each breath they took seemed to connect them to the ancient past.
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As the flock of birds swirled in the distance, a group of assailants on the trail of the princess noticed the unusual sight. They were well-trained and vigilant, recognizing the significance of the birds' behavior. With cunning minds, they deduced that it could mean the princess was hiding nearby, seeking refuge in the dense forest.
Aware of the valuable prize they could capture, the assailants quickly formulated a plan. They moved with calculated precision, their footsteps silent, and their eyes sharp as they closed in on the concealed area. Their dark intent masked by shadows, they were determined to capture the princess and claim the reward that awaited them for her capture.
They were initially tasked with killing the princess along with her companions but blinded by her beauty, their leader Blackthorn decided it would be a waste to just kill her. They could make so much profit by selling her as a slave in the Gaul Empire.
The harsh reality of the Gaul Empire's acceptance of slavery cast a grim shadow over the princess's quest for refuge. The practice of selling former royals as slaves was not uncommon, and the empire used it to humiliate and mock the kingdoms from which these former royals hailed.
Naturally the slave traders made a fortune selling such former royals as slaves.
Blackthorne was determined. He would slay the knights, sell the princess, and move to a different country.
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In the quiet moments of rest, as the dim dancing light of the torch flickered around her, Princess Seraphina found herself consumed by memories of the recent turmoil that had changed her life forever. The weight of loss and grief weighed heavily on her heart, and tears streamed down her cheeks as she sought solace in the darkness.
Her mind drifted back to the fateful coup d'état, the day that shattered her world. It had been a week since she lost her beloved parents, the king, and queen, and yet it felt like an eternity. The pain of their absence was still raw, and she hadn't had a chance to properly grieve, for her survival became the immediate priority.
The memory of that tragic day played before her eyes like a haunting vision. The sound of clashing swords, the shouts of betrayal, and the scent of embers filled her senses once again. She could still hear the anguished cries and the desperate pleas for mercy, all echoing in the recesses of her mind.
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As the assailants approached the entrance to the concealed tomb, a sense of anticipation and excitement filled the air. They were close to their quarry, and the prospect of capturing the princess brought a glint of greed to their eyes. The torchlight danced ominously as they studied the surroundings, trying to decipher the best approach to their prey.
As they pressed forward, they became aware of the petrified soldiers scattered strategically at regular intervals, like silent sentinels frozen in time.
A follower of Blackthorne approached his master and respectfully inquired, "Master, can you believe there was a concealed tomb hidden deep within the wilderness? None of the cartographers seem to have any knowledge of its existence. Doesn't it strike you as peculiar?"
In a mocking tone, another subordinate chimed in, "Were you born today? Don't you know this is a magically appearing dungeon? It's usually a playground for adventurers who battle mindless monsters, hoping to scrape together some loose change."
"True, but if it’s really a dungeon then it's also a place rumored to hold extremely valuable artifacts. I've heard tales of kingdoms going to war in their relentless pursuit of these treasures." The first subordinate retorted.
"You're not wrong," Blackthorne chimed in. "It is indeed odd. While this is definitely a dungeon, no monsters have appeared, and there's no sign of recent battle. It's just these dead, petrified soldiers, standing tall and doing basically... nothing!" He furrowed his brows, his mind racing with questions about the mysterious phenomenon they had stumbled upon.
Despite being members of the assassination guild, their past experiences as adventurers were screaming at them that this was not a normal environment. In their line of work, they were usually focused on taking out important targets, but the eerie stillness of the dungeon and the petrified soldiers unsettled their trained instincts.
They couldn't shake the feeling that something far more significant and dangerous lurked within the depths of the hidden tomb. They knew better than to dismiss the strangeness around them.
With a chilling determination in his voice, Blackthorne rallied his team with unwavering resolve. "Keep your eyes and ears open at all times and be swift to act at the faintest whisper of movement. Our mission is to capture the princess and eliminate her companions. This task must take precedence above all else. And if we chance upon any valuable artifacts along the way, seize them, but remember, we must proceed with utmost caution and swiftness. There's no room for mistakes in this assignment."
The team acknowledged their leader's instructions, knowing the gravity of their mission. As skilled assassins and former adventurers, they were well-aware of the dangers that lay ahead.
As they moved past the fortified soldiers, they noticed intricate symbols drawn on the walls. The letters bore a striking resemblance to an ancient language of Lorendian, once spoken in ancient times. But now, in the modern day, they communicated using a new language called Lorinex, a developed and evolved form of the ancient Lorendian tongue.
Blackthorne, a man with a past steeped in nobility, carried the weight of a fallen family legacy. His ancestors' name had once resonated with honor and prestige, but a dark chapter stained their history when his patriarch was exposed for corruption and conspiracy, leading to their fall from grace many decades ago.
Yet, beneath the surface of this tarnished past, Blackthorne possessed a remarkable gift - a profound understanding of literature that set him apart from the ordinary.
With seemingly little effort, he unraveled the complexities of intricate writings, their hidden stories and lost wisdom coming to light at his touch.
“Verily, thou shalt not venture forth, for there abides a being, sealed and bound, whose release must never come to pass.”
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