The mark of the forgotten Queen
Chapter 1: The Mark
The bells of Elarion rang at midnight.
One.
Two.
Three.
Their deep sound traveled across the kingdom, passing through stone towers, quiet streets, crowded markets, and the great silver gates of the Royal Palace.
Tonight, the bells were not celebrating a festival.
They were counting down to a birthday.
Elara opened her eyes.
For a few seconds, she did not remember where she was.
Then she saw the familiar wooden ceiling above her.
Her small room.
Her old bed.
The blue curtains moving slightly in the cold night wind.
She sighed and turned toward the window.
Moonlight entered through the glass and covered the room in silver.
Eighteen.
Today, she would turn eighteen.
In Elarion, that age meant more than simply becoming an adult.
It was the day when every person discovered the true power of their magical mark.
Every citizen of the kingdom was born with a mark.
Some had marks shaped like flames.
Some looked like wings, stars, swords, flowers, or strange symbols that nobody could understand.
The mark decided a person's future.
A fire mark could make someone a warrior.
A healing mark could make someone a royal doctor.
A crown mark could place someone close to the royal family.
And a shadow mark...
Those people usually disappeared before anyone could ask questions.
Elara had always been afraid of her eighteenth birthday.
Not because she feared her power.
Because she had no mark.
At least, not one that anyone could see.
For seventeen years, people had whispered about her.
The unmarked girl.
The unlucky child.
The girl who was born without a destiny.
Elara hated those words.
She slowly sat up.
Her heart was beating faster than usual.
Something felt strange.
The room was colder.
Much colder.
She looked toward the window.
The moon had turned red.
Elara froze.
That was impossible.
The Moon of Elarion was always silver.
Everyone knew that.
She stepped out of bed and walked toward the window.
The moment her fingers touched the glass, a sharp pain traveled through her arm.
She pulled her hand back.
“What was that?”
Her breathing became faster.
A faint red light appeared beneath the skin of her left wrist.
Elara stared at it.
The light moved.
It traveled from her wrist toward her shoulder like a thin line of fire.
“No…”
She tried to wipe it away.
The light became brighter.
A strange symbol slowly appeared on her skin.
It looked like a broken crown surrounded by dark flames.
Elara's eyes widened.
She had seen that symbol before.
In an old history book.
Five hundred years ago.
The symbol belonged to the Lost Queen.
Queen Seraphine.
The most dangerous name in Elarion's history.
The official story said Seraphine had betrayed the kingdom.
She had tried to destroy the immortal kings.
She had used forbidden magic.
And five hundred years ago, she had been killed.
Her name was removed from royal records.
Her statues were destroyed.
Her followers were hunted.
Even speaking her name inside the Royal Palace was considered a crime.
Yet her symbol was now glowing on Elara's skin.
“No,” Elara whispered.
A sudden wave of pain hit her.
She fell to her knees.
The room disappeared.
For one second, she saw a different place.
A giant black castle.
Fire in the sky.
Hundreds of people kneeling before someone wearing a silver crown.
Then she heard a woman's voice.
“When the mark returns, the kingdom will remember.”
Elara gasped.
The vision vanished.
She was back in her room.
Her hands were shaking.
Someone knocked on the door.
“Elara?”
She quickly covered her arm with her sleeve.
“I'm awake!”
The door opened.
Her guardian, Mara, entered the room carrying a small candle.
Mara was an old woman who had raised Elara since she was a baby.
She smiled.
“Happy birthday.”
Elara tried to smile back.
“Thank you.”
Mara placed the candle on the table.
Then she looked at Elara carefully.
“Why are you so pale?”
“Nothing.”
Mara's eyes narrowed.
“You're a terrible liar.”
Elara looked away.
For a moment, she thought about telling her everything.
The red moon.
The vision.
The symbol.
But something inside her told her not to.
“I just couldn't sleep.”
Mara walked closer.
“Today is your Marking Day. You should be excited.”
Elara swallowed.
“What if my mark is dangerous?”
Mara became silent.
“Every mark has a purpose.”
“What if mine doesn't?”
Mara's expression changed for just a second.
Fear.
Real fear.
Elara noticed it.
“You know something.”
“No.”
“Mara.”
“I said no.”
Before Elara could ask another question, the bells rang again.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Mara looked toward the window.
The red moon was slowly returning to silver.
“Get dressed,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because the palace will send people for you soon.”
Elara frowned.
“The palace?”
Mara nodded.
“Every eighteen-year-old is taken to the Temple of Marks. The royal priests will examine your power.”
Elara looked at her hidden arm.
“And if they see this?”
Mara didn't answer.
That silence was enough.
Something was very wrong.
---
Far away, inside the Royal Palace, a man stood before a massive black mirror.
The mirror showed no reflection.
Instead, it showed the streets of Elarion.
The Royal Council stood behind him.
Seven immortal kings sat on their ancient thrones.
Their faces looked young.
Their eyes did not.
The oldest king slowly stood.
“The mark has appeared.”
Nobody spoke.
A royal priest stepped forward.
“Are you certain?”
The king looked at the mirror.
On its surface appeared the image of a glowing symbol.
The broken crown.
The symbol of Seraphine.
“It has returned after five hundred years.”
One of the kings clenched his fist.
“Then the prophecy has begun.”
Another king whispered:
“She must be killed before she remembers.”
The assassin standing beside the mirror finally moved.
He wore black armor with silver lines running across it.
A dark cloak covered his shoulders.
A sword rested against his back.
His face was calm.
Emotionless.
His name was Kael.
The Royal Assassin.
The most feared killer in the kingdom.
He had never failed a royal order.
The king looked at him.
“Kael.”
Kael bowed.
“My king.”
“There is a girl in the eastern district.”
“Name?”
“Elara.”
Kael waited.
“Her crime?”
The king's eyes became cold.
“She was born with the mark of the Lost Queen.”
Kael's expression did not change.
“Do you want her captured?”
“No.”
The king looked directly into his eyes.
“Kill her.”
Kael nodded.
“When?”
“Before sunrise.”
Kael turned around.
Then he stopped.
“Why is she important?”
The room became silent.
The king answered:
“Because five hundred years ago, an entire kingdom burned to protect the truth about that mark.”
Kael said nothing.
The king continued.
“And if she remembers who she is…”
He looked toward the black mirror.
“…the immortal kings will fall.”
---
Morning arrived.
Elarion looked beautiful beneath the golden sunlight.
Nobody in the streets knew what had happened during the night.
Children ran through the markets.
Merchants opened their shops.
Royal guards walked through the streets.
The kingdom continued as usual.
But something had changed.
Elara stood in front of her mirror.
Her mark was still there.
She slowly removed the cloth covering her shoulder.
The broken crown glowed faintly against her skin.
Then something happened.
A second symbol appeared beneath it.
A small black circle.
Elara touched it.
A voice whispered inside her mind.
“Run.”
She stepped back.
“What?”
The voice disappeared.
Then she heard horses outside.
Elara rushed to the window.
Three black horses stood in front of her house.
Royal soldiers surrounded the street.
At their center stood a single man dressed completely in black.
He slowly looked toward her window.
Their eyes met.
Elara felt a strange pressure in her chest.
The man did not look angry.
He looked empty.
Like someone who had forgotten how to feel fear.
Kael.
He had arrived.
Elara stepped away from the window.
Mara rushed into the room.
“We have to leave.”
“Who is he?”
“The Royal Assassin.”
Elara's face went pale.
“He came for me?”
Mara grabbed her hand.
“Yes.”
A loud knock shook the front door.
“Elara of Elarion,” a royal soldier shouted.
“By order of the immortal kings, you are to come with us.”
Elara looked at Mara.
“What do I do?”
Mara pulled an old silver pendant from around her neck.
She placed it in Elara's hand.
“This belonged to your mother.”
Elara stared at it.
“You told me my mother died before I could remember her.”
“I lied.”
Elara's eyes widened.
Mara pushed open a hidden panel behind the bookshelf.
A narrow passage appeared.
“Go.”
“What about you?”
“I will slow them down.”
“No!”
“Elara, listen to me.”
Mara held her shoulders.
“Do not trust the kings.”
Another crash came from downstairs.
The soldiers had entered.
Mara's voice became quiet.
“And whatever happens…”
She looked at the glowing mark.
“Do not let anyone make you remember.”
Elara didn't understand.
“Remember what?”
Mara's eyes filled with fear.
“That is the question you must never ask.”
Elara entered the hidden passage.
The wall closed behind her.
She ran.
Above her, the house filled with the sound of soldiers.
Outside, Kael stepped through the broken doorway.
His eyes searched the room.
“She isn't here,” a soldier said.
Kael looked at the old woman standing before him.
“Where is Elara?”
Mara said nothing.
Kael slowly reached for his sword.
Then he heard something.
A faint magical pulse.
He turned toward the wall.
His eyes narrowed.
“She went underground.”
---
Elara ran through the darkness.
Her breathing became heavier.
She had no idea where the passage led.
She only knew one thing.
The Royal Assassin was coming.
And somehow, she knew he would find her.
The tunnel suddenly ended.
Elara stepped into an underground chamber.
Ancient symbols covered the walls.
At the center stood a giant stone door.
And carved across that door was the same broken crown that appeared on her skin.
Elara slowly approached it.
The moment she touched the stone—
The entire chamber shook.
The mark on her body exploded with light.
The stone door opened.
Behind it was not a room.
It was a staircase leading deep beneath the kingdom.
A whisper came from the darkness.
“Welcome back, Queen.”
Elara froze.
“I am not the Queen.”
A second voice answered.
“Not yet.”
Behind her, footsteps echoed through the tunnel.
Kael had arrived.
Elara turned.
The assassin stood at the entrance.
His sword was already in his hand.
For the first time, his expression changed.
His eyes locked onto the glowing mark.
Then he whispered:
“Impossible.”
Elara stepped backward.
Kael raised his sword.
“I was ordered to kill you.”
Elara's heart raced.
“Then do it.”
Kael moved toward her.
He reached for her.
Their hands touched.
And suddenly—
The magic inside Kael disappeared.
His sword fell from his fingers.
His eyes widened.
For the first time in his life, the most powerful assassin in Elarion felt something he had never experienced before.
Powerlessness.
Elara stared at him.
Kael stared at his empty hands.
Neither of them understood what had happened.
But deep beneath the kingdom, something ancient had awakened.
And somewhere far away, one of the immortal kings opened his eyes.
He smiled.
“The Queen has returned.”
Then the kingdom's oldest prophecy began to unfold.
