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Then a monstrous scorpion, its size rivaling that of a wildcat, lunged from the shadows with a hissing sound and its tail ready to strike. Aurora pulled out her sword, and with a swift thrust, she drove the blade into the creature’s heart.
The force of her strike sent Aurora tumbling from her horse, the ground greeting her with an unforgiving impact. Midnight galloped onward, leaving Aurora alone in the dark forest. Gritting her teeth against the pain radiating through her body, she pushed the fallen scorpion aside, then freed her sword from its lifeless corpse.
Just as she rose to her feet, three more scorpions emerged from the shadows, their menacing presence encircling her like vengeful creatures. Panic surged through her, and she fled on foot. Desperation fueled her steps as she raced away from the encroaching predators, every muscle straining in a desperate bid for survival.
Drops of sweat glistened on Aurora’s brow, mingling with the streaks of dirt that marred her skin. Each heartbeat hammered in her chest as she fought against exhaustion and fear. With a swift swing of her sword, she severed the tail of one of the scorpions, eliciting a shrill cry before it scampered away. Aurora’s foot stumbled on an overgrown root, and she hurtled down a steep slope. Her body jolted with each thud to the ground until she plummeted into the depths of a pit. She groaned as her bruised body ached from the impact. The air grew thick, and panic gripped her heart as she realized she had fallen into a trap.
“No, no, no…” She grasped at the walls, clawing, but the slick surface was of no help. “Midnight!”
Her mind raced, analyzing every possibility. She refused to surrender to the suffocating despair that threatened to consume her. Inch by inch, she clawed her way to the top.
With a final surge of strength, Aurora’s fingertips grazed the edge of the pit, her body trembling with exertion. She pulled herself up, her muscles protesting the strain. Breathless and battered, she emerged from the trap.
But then echoes of more scorpions filled the air, and she lost her grip, tumbling back down. She grimaced as a sharp pain shot up her arm. Aurora crawled to the corner and curled into a protective ball, hugging her legs tightly as the menacing sounds of scorpions crawling grew nearer. Fear enveloped her, its icy tendrils snaking around her mind.
She closed her eyes and buried her face between her knees. “Tristan…” she whispered. “Where are you?”
In the depths of her mind, she conjured his image—the warmth of his smile, the gentle strength in his eyes. She visualized his return, knowing with absolute certainty that with his arrival would come light and peace, and she would be safe. It was a conviction that ran deeper than reason, a steadfast belief that filled her with hope even with danger still lurking above.
As thoughts of Tristan invaded her consciousness, a shift occurred within her. The world around her seemed to quiet, its dangers melting away like shadows before the dawn. The scurrying of scorpions vanished, replaced by a tranquil stillness that wrapped around her like a comforting cloak.
In that moment, thoughts of Tristan became a lifeline, grounding her. The fear that had threatened to consume her consciousness lost its grip, weakened by the unwavering strength of her trust in Tristan.
The weight of her burdens momentarily lifted, and Aurora allowed herself to bask in the serenity that washed over her. Her heart, once burdened with fear, now floated with newfound lightness. It was a fleeting peace, yet within that stolen moment, she felt an undeniable connection to Tristan.
The air hung motionless, as if nature itself held its breath, recognizing the significance of that moment. Aurora’s breath came easy, her mind clear once again, untethered from the worries that had plagued her only moments ago. In the presence of Tristan’s memory, she not only found peace but also caught a glimmer of something else—an emotion she struggled to remember because of the relentless darkness that lived within her.
Hope.
Hope had become a stranger to her, a distant memory buried beneath layers of despair. Yet, in that precise moment, its familiar touch brushed against her spirit.
As if in response to such a delicate awakening, the sky above brightened, casting a solitary beam of sunlight into the pit. No bells tolled, which revealed that the radiant glow had sprung forth from within her.
The glimmer of hope flickered within Aurora, much like a small, fragile ember. It breathed life into the depths of her being, casting its gentle light on the darkest corners of her soul.
TRISTAN
Tristan sat in the throne room, surrounded by his advisors who were going through all of the royal matters of the day. After their lengthy meetings, his advisors thrust endless pieces of parchment before him, of which he was expected to read and sign.
The castle bustled with activity, but the movement blurred in his peripheral. He tried to draw a mental portrait of Aurora’s face. Her intense, distrusting eyes were the deepest shade of brown. He was certain that he could drown in those eyes. And it would not be a terrible way to die.
Then there was the flush of color staining her cheeks, like strawberries. His fingers flexed as he imagined the touch of her satin skin as he caressed her face. Then there were her lips. The bottom fuller than the upper. Everything about her was a sight for sore eyes.
The palace was abuzz with activity, but Tristan had retreated into the recesses of his own mind. He couldn’t muster any enthusiasm for the grand ball preparations or the intricacies of political negotiations. Not while the looming war with Midas was still at full swing. As night descended on the kingdom, he excused himself from the council and retreated to his chamber, his heart pounding with a strange anticipation.
In the solitude of his room, Tristan took the sundrop flower drink from the ledge of his window, the silver glow of moonlight reflecting across the polished surface of his bowl. He carried it to his bed, downing the contents in a single gulp. A wave of serenity washed over him, and a faint smile curled his lips as his limp body sank into the silk sheets. He closed his eyes, welcoming sleep’s sweet embrace.
Just as his consciousness began to slip away, a violent jolt yanked him back to alertness. Blinking, he found himself no longer on the familiar shores of his dreams, but within the heart of a dense forest. His heart lurched when he noticed Midnight, Aurora’s horse, standing alone and looking almost as confused as he felt. Tristan’s fingers found the pendant hanging from his neck, the spinning wheel that had transported him there.
“Where is Aurora?” he murmured to the horse, his hand gently stroking its mane. Midnight huffed and pawed at the ground, as though attempting to convey a message. An uneasy sensation crawled up Tristan’s spine. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Aurora had ventured into danger alone.
He had to find her.
He started along the winding trail until he came onto a pit trap, its mouth gaping wide open—ready to swallow anything that stepped too close. Taking a deep breath, he planted a firm foot by the edge and peered into it.
“Aurora?” he called out.
“Tristan?”
