Where the River Runs Backward

The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished.

A weird wave pushed against the current, like a breath on the brink of a whisper, was initially very imperceptible. The only ones who paid attention were the fisherman, who whispered to each other as their nets were entangled in knots due to the current. Within a few hours, though, the entire Auldine River turned around and rushed back towards the northern highlands from where it had come. The villagers pointed fingers in exasperation as the vast, rushing waters appeared to defy gravity, ebbing and flowing away from the ocean as if prompted by an ethereal voice.

Along with the river's turn, a veil of night descended upon Eldara's realm.

Rumours travelled faster than the river's peculiar pull within the royal city's walls. Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, the cherished, wise, and beautiful queen had disappeared from her chamber. She was supposedly locked in her room with the windows fastened and the door closed the night before, according to the palace guards. However, when morning arrived, she was nowhere to be found; instead, an unnerving silence permeated the corridors, as if a silent warning were being conveyed.

With pale cheeks and wide eyes, the High Council met in the Grand Hall. Whispers of fear escaped from the cloaks of the nobility as they peered down at the vacant throne. The utter and unspoken absence of Her Majesty was palpable and unsettling. She had shone like a lighthouse, protecting the realm from the growing evil outside their boundaries.

As the faint light streamed through the hall's stained-glass windows, Captain of the Queen's Guard Lord Caelin advanced, his armour shining. His order was unwavering: "We must not fall to fear." His worried expression was conveyed by his tightened jaw. Although the queen has disappeared, she did not leave any indication that she fought. The kingdom's resilience has been constantly mentioned by Her Majesty, therefore this could still be a test.

"Or it might be something more sinister," interjected Lady Ilara, chief sorcerer of the kingdom, her ethereal midnight-blue robes seemingly woven from the fabric of the darkest night. She searched for a trace of the Queen's spirit by placing her hand on a crystal ball that pulsed softly. Her deposal from the throne would be the result of forces both old and wild. The air is thick with a magic that has not been felt in decades, and it is flowing across the rivers. That is not a practice run.

A soft murmur resounded around the council, with some members nodding in accord and others tensing up, crossing their arms for safety. With Lady Ilara's frown, all eyes shifted to the orb, which was losing some of its gentle radiance.

"Her essence is...far away," she said, her brow furrowing even more fiercely. "Her presence is obscured from my view by an impenetrable barrier."

Suddenly, a hushed, uncertain voice—one that seemed out of place among the council—rose above them all. "The prophecy," a young girl uttered as she stood at the hall's edge, her large green eyes set onto the waning sun. The council's attention was drawn to the young woman, who was dressed simply and was no more than seventeen years old; she was an apprentice healer, yet her stare revealed a mix of timidity and knowing.

"What are you saying, kid?" Lord Caelin said, his tone becoming more gentle as he beheld the expression on her face.

She stated, "The old prophecy of Auldine," as she advanced. We have been taught to fear this one from childhood; its inscription can be seen in the First Temple ruins. The queen will be unmade and the river will flow backwards; Eldara's heart will break, and the curtain between realms will shrink.

Her remarks reverberated throughout the chamber, casting a shadow over the meeting. Many believed the prophecy to be nothing more than a folktale, a remnant of a bygone era when forest creatures prowled and spells weighed heavily on the land. The river had turned, the queen had departed, and yet they remained standing, their minds consumed by an eerie sensation of impending doom.

"Then what is it all about?" With his gaze flitting between each member of the council, Lord Caelin persisted. How do we put this right if it is the fulfilment of the prophecy? How can we reunite her Majesty?

Lady Ilara remarked, her voice scarcely audible above a whisper, breaking the heavy silence that had descended upon them. As she spoke slowly, her expressionless eyes fixed on the crystal ball, she hinted that they might not be able to retrieve her on our own. "However, the Shadowed Wood is one location that could contain the solutions we're looking for."

A number of council members flinched at the sound of its name, and even Lord Caelin's expression turned gloomy at the thought. The eastern part of the realm was occupied by the Shadowed Wood, a dark and foreboding forest that let no light in and where creatures spoke languages long since forgotten. It was said to be the spot where the veil between realms was the thinnest, and the birthplace of ancient magic. Nobody who went in came out unharmed, assuming they did.

"The Shadowed Wood is off-limits," Lord Caelin interjected, his voice revealing his apprehension and hesitation. It was deemed too unsafe for anyone to enter, according to even her Majesty.

The life of Her Majesty could be at jeopardy, Lady Ilara argued. She had an unwavering determination and a cold, hard stare. If the prophecy has started, then we have to deal with the revived ancient magic. Perhaps deep behind the shadows, in the Wood, are the answers.

Concerned about the consequences, the council remained silent. The healer's apprentice unexpectedly rose to his feet once more. "If you'll grant me permission," she said, her voice quivering but determined. The Shadowed Wood is where I intend to go. The value of my life is dwarfed by that of the Queen, and I am only an apprentice. Let me find out what we need to know.

As Lord Caelin approached her, he sternly declared, "No, child." "The Wood is not the place for a girl armed solely with poultices and herbs to face danger."

A glint of comprehension shone in Lady Ilara's narrowed eyes as she lifted a hand. So let her talk. Her bravery surpasses that of fighters twice her age. It could be that she is the one who has to leave.

The girl's name was Ellara, and she was quite determined, even though her hands were shaking. She had heard tales about the Queen from her childhood about how she had once visited their hamlet, blessed her mother as she lay sick, and whispered words of kindness to her. Even if her realm went into shambles, she would not do nothing. Despite her awareness of the perils and her innate dread of the Shadowed Wood, she felt a sense of purpose and destiny that linked her to a mission beyond her control.

"Very well," finally uttered Lord Caelin, his voice betraying both his approval and his resignation. Ellara, you will not go alone if you genuinely intend to do this. You will be accompanied by two of my most distinguished guards.

However, Lady Ilara declined. "There will be no soldiers and no weapons," she declared. Any traveler venturing into the Wood should be prepared to face its animosity for iron and bows head-on. Whatever she does, she will not do it alone.

The sorceress raised her hand, spoke something in an old language, and then pulled a tiny bottle containing silver liquid from under her robe. As she gave it to Ellara, she murmured, "Take this." For a little while, it will protect your soul from the evil spirits that lurk in the Wood. Make good use of it.

With shaky hands, Ellara took the vial, allowing the unusual heat to permeate her flesh. Before leaving the Grand Hall and entering the chilly morning mist, she took one more glance around the council, seeing their worried and hopeful expressions.

As she approached the kingdom's boundary and the Shadowed Wood's foreboding grasp, the Queen's absence remained a spectre in the river's reversal.

A chill went down her spine as she stepped into the forest, and a whisper carried on the chilly, calm air and reached her ears.

It whispered, "Welcome, child of Eldara," with a sound both subtle and powerful. "We have expected this."