Chapter 1 - the light in her eyes
Eight year old Seren tugged at the hem of her mother’s apron as the morning sunlight spilled across the small garden behind their humble tavern. Tiny shoots of green peeked through the soil, and as always, the plants seemed to lean toward her mother, bending as if they could sense the warmth of her hands.
“You see, my love,” Laura said softly, brushing a lock of hair from Seren’s forehead, “magic isn’t just in spells or words. It’s in the world around us, its in the plants, the soil, the very air we breathe. One day, you’ll understand it all.”
Seren’s small fingers brushed against a sprout that shimmered faintly under her mother’s touch. She had always admired her mother’s hands, delicate yet strong, capable of creating life even from the most stubborn soil. Seren, intelligent beyond her five years, tried to imitate her, though the seedlings barely bent toward her encouragement. Her mother laughed “i don’t think that is your magic my lovely, though you might have a bit of my green thumb”.
It had been weeks since her mother started to cough quietly after their long mornings in the kitchen, the faint red stains on her apron hidden beneath her hands. Seren watched, worried, but Laura waved her concerns away with a soft smile. “Nothing serious, my darling. Just the work catching up to me.”
But the sickness was not ordinary. Slowly, quietly, the poison spread through Laura’s veins, a subtle, deliberate cruelty sent by the queen, whose jealousy of Laura’s beauty, cleverness, and the king’s love knew no bounds. Seren did not yet understand the danger, only the sharp ache in her chest when her mother’s cough wracked her body, the glimmer of fear in her eyes that she tried to hide.
One afternoon, Laura pressed something into Seren’s small hands, her grip fragile but determined. “My daughter, I need to tell you a story,” she whispered, her eyes holding Seren’s. “A story about how I met your father… the king.”
Seren listened with wide eyes as her mother’s voice painted the past:
“I was a maid in the palace gardens. War had broken out in my kingdom Elarion, and I had nowhere to go so I wandered around hiding my identity as a princess to look like a maid, i got a job at valenmare kingdom. And one day, I coaxed a dying vine to bloom with a bit of my magic. The king saw me, Seren. He asked me how such life could come from my hands. I told him the truth — I was from a fallen kingdom, a place that no longer exists, and the plants were all I could bring back from the home I lost. That day, we laughed… and slowly, we fell in love. But love is never simple, not with kingdoms and politics, and he had to marry another to protect his throne. I never stopped loving him, but the queen… she never forgave me.”
Tears welled in Seren’s eyes as she clutched her mother’s hand. “And… and me, Mama?”
Laura smiled faintly, though the poison had weakened her to the bones. “You are the part of our love that survives. You are our joy, Seren. And I… I must make sure you are safe.”
She pressed a small crystal into Seren’s palm. It glimmered faintly, as if alive. “This belonged to my mother, and hers before her. It will open only for daughters of our blood. When you need it most, it will give you what your heart seeks. Promise me, you’ll always hold it close.”
Seren nodded, hugging the crystal to her chest, not knowing that this would be the only comfort left from the world she knew.
Laura coughed violently, and her small, brave smile faltered. Her eyes lifted once more to the king, who had arrived just in time to witness the slow cruelty of the poison. “My love,” she whispered, “keep her safe. Protect our daughter.” And then, with a soft exhale, her eyes closed forever.
The world seemed to stop. Seren barely noticed the guards rushing to carry Laura away, the sky darkening as rain began to fall, drumming against the roof like mourning drums. She remembered glimpses: a small wooden coffin lowered into wet soil, her mother’s hair glistening in the storm, the king holding Seren against his chest, silent tears streaking his face. The palace guards moved quickly, leaving little room for grief, for farewell, for understanding.
When they arrived at the palace, Seren’s new home was not warmth, but shadow. The queen’s icy gaze met her tiny, wet eyes, and the cruel smile lurking behind it chilled her to the bone. Step by step, Seren realized she was alone except for the maid her father assigned to her, who became her only comfort in the vast, cold halls. Her father’s love was distant now, the queen’s wrath stretching through every corridor.
Her stepsisters’ faces were pale and twisted with jealousy, the queen’s hatred evident in their eyes as they whispered and mocked from the shadows. Seren felt the heavy weight of the palace pressing down on her, the emptiness where her mother had been, and the sharp, unrelenting loneliness that made each night colder than the last.
And yet… somewhere deep within, the crystal pulsed faintly against her chest. A warmth she could not yet name, a promise of strength. A surge of determination, born from her mother’s final wish, rose within her: to survive, to grow, to be happy despite the darkness, and to one day claim the joy and life her mother had dreamed for her.
Seren clutched the crystal tightly, whispering into the dark servant’s wing, “I will make it, Mama. I will be strong.”
Outside, the storm raged, the palace looming large and cruel, but inside the girl with magic in her veins, the last spark of her mother’s magic — and the first hint of her own — glimmered quietly. And somewhere, in the shadows, the queen’s hatred only deepened.
