In the quiet corners of Sanctora, where laughter often mingled with the rustle of leaves, Liora Belle could almost always be found sitting beside a giggling Evelyn.
At just nineteen years old, Liora was everything Evelyn adored—a big sister, a playmate, and a protector all rolled into one.
Every day after her studies at the mage academy, Liora would set aside her books and spend hours weaving flower crowns with Evelyn, teaching her how to skip stones across the village pond, or simply listening intently as the little girl recounted tales of imaginary adventures.
Their bond was unshakable; Evelyn trusted Liora implicitly, clinging to her hand whenever they walked through crowded streets or sat under the shade of ancient trees.
Though they weren't blood-related, their connection felt deeper than family—it was built on patience, kindness, and countless shared moments that made Evelyn's world brighter.
Liora herself was a picture of grace and gentleness, traits that seemed woven into her very being. Her long black hair cascaded down her back like silk, framing a face so serene it often drew admiration from villagers passing by.
She had slender features—soft skin kissed lightly by the sun, thin red lips that curved easily into warm smiles, and shining eyes that sparkled with curiosity.
Her pointy nose gave her an air of elegance, though she never carried herself with arrogance. Instead,
Liora moved through life humbly, greeting elders with respectful bows and offering help without hesitation to anyone in need. Despite her beauty, she remained unaware of it, too focused on caring for others to notice the lingering glances or whispered compliments about her poise.
To those who knew her best, Liora wasn't defined by her appearance but by her heart—a heart big enough to embrace everyone around her, especially children like Evelyn.
Beyond her playful afternoons with Evelyn, Liora dedicated much of her time to studying light magic, though progress came slowly due to her naivety.
While other students grasped spells with determination and precision, Liora approached her lesson with wide-eyed wonder, marveling at even the simplest feats of healing or illumination.
Her instructors often sighed in exasperation when she asked questions like, "can we use this spell to make flowers bloom faster?" or "wouldn't it be nice if we could heal broken toys too?" but despite her lack of focus—and occasional clumsiness—no one doubted her intentions.
Magic flowed through her not as a tool for power, but as an extension of her compassion. Even outside class, she practiced tirelessly, determined to master techniques that might ease someone's suffering or bring joy to those around her.
Yet, for all her efforts, Liora couldn't shake her innate innocence—an inability to see malice in others or fully grasp the darker truths lurking beneath Sanctora's surface.
When news spread that Evelyn had been chosen for the sacrifice, Liora's world shattered. The thought of losing the child she loved so dearly left her trembling, unable to reconcile the cruel reality with the peaceful ideals she clung to.
That evening, as Evelyn slept soundly beside her, Liora stayed awake, brushing strands of golden hair from the girl's forehead and whispering promises she wasn't sure she could keep. "I won't let anything happen to you," she murmured, her voice barely audible.
But deep down, doubt gnawed at her. How could someone as naïve and gentle as her stand against centuries of tradition—or worse, the cave-orcs themselves?.
Still, Liora resolved to find a way no matter how impossible it seemed. For Evelyn, she would face whatever darkness lay ahead—even if it meant confronting truths she wasn't ready for.
The next morning, Liora sat with Evelyn in the garden behind her small cottage, their usual spot for games and stories. The air was heavy with unspoken tension, but Liora did her best to mask it with a soft smile, "Evelyn," she began gently, brushing petals from the little girl's hair, "do you remember the story I told you about the brave knight who saved the kingdom?" Evelyn nodded enthusiastically, her golden curls bouncing. "of course! She was so strong and kind!"
Liora chuckled softly, though her heart ached. "that's right. And do you know what made her so special? It wasn't just her sword—it was her courage to protect the people she loved."
Evelyn tilted her head thoughtfully. "do you think I'll be brave like her when I go meet the angels?" the question caught Liora off guard, and for a moment, she froze, her hands trembling as they rested on Evelyn's shoulders.
Taking a deep breath, Liora pulled the child into a tight embrace. "you're already braver than anyone I know," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
"but,… Evelyn, what if we didn't have to say goodbye yet? What if there was another way?" Evelyn looked up at her, wide-eyed and confused.
"another way? But mama said this is important—for everyone." Liora hesitated, torn between honesty and the fear of scaring innocent child.
"sometimes," she said carefully, choosing her words with deliberate care, "people make choices because they don't see other options. But maybe… maybe it's time someone tried something different. For you. For all of us."
Evelyn frowned slightly, clutching Liora's sleeve. "will you come with me then? If it's scary, I want you to hold my hand." Liora blinked back tears, pressing a kiss to the girl's forehead. "always," she promised, her voice unwavering despite the storm brewing inside her. "no matter what happens, I'll be right beside you."
As Liora pressed a tender kiss to Evelyn's forehead, a commotion stirred on the stone path leading through the heart of Sanctora.
Villagers paused mid-conversation, their eyes widening as an imposing figure swept down the cobblestone road, flanked by the kingdom's elite soldiers.
The women wore a dark green mage robe that shimmered faintly in the sunlight, its hem trailing behind her like moss over ancient stones. Her pointed hat tilted slightly forward, casting a shadow over her sharp features, and at her waist bounced what appeared to be a voodoo doll made of dried straw, adorned with gold and bronze ornaments strung together on a belt crafted from green snake skin sewn with golden thread.
In a brief moment, the mage's sharp eyes flickered toward the two girls, landing brieflly on Liora and Evelyn.
For a fleeting moment, their gazes met, and the woman's lips curled into a thin, enigmatic smile before she continued her majestic procession.
She moved with such elegance and purpose that even the stray cats seemed to clear a path for her. One elderly man nudged his wife, whispering loudly enough for those nearby to hear, "who is she? Some kind of a queen?" his wife rolled her eyes.
"she's obviously a mage—look at the getup! Probably here to turn someone into a frog." A child tugged on her sleeve, wide-eyed. "can she turn me into a frog? i've always wanted to jump really high!" the women groaned. "of course she can, Timmy." The child grinned wide "sweet."
The murmurs grew louder as she passed, each villager adding their own colorful commentary. "do you think she knows how to summon lightning?" one young man asked his friend, half-jokingly.
His companion snorted. "if she does, I hope she uses it on Cedric—he owes me three silver coins!" laughter rippled through the crowd, though no one dared step too close to the entourage.
Despite the jokes, there was an undeniable air of awe surrounding her. Even the guards escorting her looked both proud and slightly intimidated, as if they weren't sure whether they were protecting her or keeping her contained.
When she finally reached the council office, the doors swung open wide, and all five members of the council stood waiting to greet her—a rare honor reserved only for the most prestigious visitors.
Inside, the room fell silent except for the soft rustle of her robes as she stepped forward. Grand Priest Agapios Lindqvist bowed deeply, his voice steady but tinged with reverence. "we are humbled by your presence, esteemed mage. To what do we owe this unexpected blessing?"
the women smiled thinly, her piercing gaze sweeping over the council before settling on Agapios. "unexpected, perhaps," she replied cooly, her tone smooth yet commanding, "but necessary. There are matters brewing beyond these walls—matters far greater than your sacrifices or your fragile peace."
Elder Lucien Pendragon, ever the skeptic, raised an eyebrow. "and you intend to enlighten us, I presume?" the mage's lips curved upward in a faint smirk as she adjusted the strap of her peculiar belt. "enlightenment comes at a price, Elder. Are you prepared to pay it?".