The Equinox Princess

20 years ago:

The darkness of the stormy night enveloped the forest, heavy with the promise of rain. Thunder boomed, illuminating the sky with electric flashes, casting eerie silhouettes on the trees. In the distance, a haunting hoot of an owl echoed through the dense forest, its melancholy call weaving into the tempestuous night.

A figure emerged, fleeing through the shadows. A woman with platinum-blonde hair, clad in a tattered nightdress stained with dried blood, fluttered behind her like a ghostly banner. She cradled a newborn baby in her arms. Her breathing came in ragged gasps, panic etch on her pale face. Fear drove her forward, fuelled by a determination to protect her child from the so-called seers and her own husband.

As she fled through the forest, memories of earlier horrors flooded her mind. The excruciating labour, and agony of bringing life into the world, was eclipsed only by the terror that followed. She recalled her baby's tiny body began to absorb the dark energies from the artifacts her husband, the king, had brought from war. The relics, meant to be souvenir, had unleashed a malevolent force into the palace. And her baby, innocently adorable, had absorbed her nanny's life force, after the dark energies entered her body.

As a nephilim, she had sensed the darkness lurking within the artifacts. She had warned her husband, pleading with him to remove them from their chamber, but his stubborn pride had silenced her concerns.

'They're harmless,' he had said, his voice dripping with condescension. 'Simply relics of our victory.'

But she knew better. And now, as she gazed at her baby's innocent face, she saw the faint shadow of corruption spreading within. The artifact was a seal, and now, something ancient and evil had awakened, threatening to consume her child's soul. Her husband's ignorance had doomed them all.

With each snap of twig and rustle of leaves, she flinched, expecting pursuers. The baby's gentle cries only strengthened her resolve. She would not let them take her child. Her bare feet pounded the damp earth, the only sound aside the baby's faint wails and the distant rumble of thunder.

Suddenly, she stumbled, her gaze locking onto a narrow stream running through the forest. Without hesitation, she followed it, hoping the water would mask her tracks.

Painting against the tree, she scanned her surroundings, her gaze darting backwards disbelief and horror gripped her heart as she thought of her husband's betrayal. Her husband, once loving and supportive, had turned against their own child. Blinded by fear and ignorance, he conspired with the palace seers to eliminate the perceived evil. He had rallied the entire community to hunt her down, driven by the ruthless desire to kill their innocent child.

Torchlights flicked through the trees, and the distant barking of hounds louder. The pursuers were closing in. Summoning every last shred of strength, she pushed off from the tree and began to run. Despite the searing pain and exhaustion lingering from childbirth, she forced herself to accelerate. Her breath came in ragged gasps, but she refused to yield. The thought of her baby's life hanging in balance propelled her forward.

Her nightgown clung to her sweat-drenched body, and branches snagged at her hair, but she pressed on. The hound's bark grew more urgent, and torches cast eerie shadows on the trees. Still, she ran, driven by a mother's unwavering instinct to protect and the immortal world offered no refuge. The rain, began lashing down, soaking her to the bone, but she pressed on. She adjusted the blanket and raincoat, shielding her baby from the deluge.

Finally, she saw the hill, her beacon of hope. There she will be able to open a portal, a gateway between worlds, awaited. Only royals and high nobles knew the special sigil required to transverse the two realms. Reaching the hilltop, she rearranged her hold on the baby and began to drawing the intricate sigil on the rock. Rainwater streaming down, obscuring her vision and smudging her lines. Undeterred, she tried again. And again. Until, on the fifth attempt, the sigil shone clear.

With trembling lips, she spoke the enchanted words, 'Aperio portam, mundo mortalium.' The air vibrated with anticipation as she waited for the portal's response. As she waited for the portal to open, a sense of unease crept over her. Below the hill, the guards and community members moved with predatory stealth, their torched casting sinister shadows. They circled, closing in like a tiger stalking its prey.

"Look, she's attempting to open the portal!" a guard exclaimed his voice urgent.

The community leader's face darkened. "We cannot allow her to escape. The child must be surrendered to His Majesty."

Their captain's anger flared. "If she slips through, our heads will roll. Robert, unleash the hounds! We must stop her, no matter the cost."

The guards swiftly complied, releasing the snarling pack. The hounds sensing their quarry, burst into a frenzied chase, their barks echoing through the stormy night.

Meanwhile, her gaze locked onto the flickering lights, and her heart sank. They found her.

'No, no, no,' she silently screamed, panic setting in.

Suddenly, barking erupted behind her. She spun around, and the eyes widened in horror. Through the bushes below, the hounds burst forth, their snarling faces and snapping jaws mere yards away. The woman's breath caught in the throat as the hounds close in, their hot breath wafting up the hill. Her baby's tiny fragile form seemed to tremble in her arms, and she knew she had to act – or lose everything.

And the rock beneath her hand began to glow, soft blue lights spreading like veins. The sigil pulsed, beckoning her to step forward. The portal creaked open revealing a shimmering threshold.

As the portals shimmering lights swirled to life the captain's eyes narrowed. He knew Her Majesty was cusp of escape. With swift precision, he drew an arrow from the quiver and took aim. The arrow sliced through the air, like a deadly missile finding its mark. It pierced her side, gliding through flesh like a hot knife through butter. Her scream echoed through the stormy night; her voice shredded in agony. She stumbled, her grip on the baby faltering.

The infant's fragile form wobbled in her arms, threatening to slip free. Desperate, she braced herself against the rock, her free hand clutching the stone as if were only her anchor. The portal's radiant glow illuminated her anguish, its promise of sanctuary now tantalising out of reach. She leaped into the shimmering depths, narrowly avoiding another arrow and the snapping jaws of the hounds. And everything went to black.

The sudden darkness enveloped her like a velvet cloak, calming her frazzled mind. Her thoughts began to unravel, drifting toward oblivion. But her serenity was short-lived. A piercing scream shattered the stillness, ripping her back to awareness. Disoriented, she opened her eyes to an inky blackness that seemed to swallow all light.

As her pupils strained to adjust, the darkness receded, revealing the rugged contours of a cavern. The scream still echoed; its source now unmistakable – her baby girl. Fear surged through her veins, mingling with relief. She scrambled to sit up, cradling her infant close. The baby's tiny face contorted in distress, her cries echoing off the carven walls.

As she struggled to sit up a wave of pain crashed over her, leaving her breathless and nauseated. Her head throbbed with a dull ache, a souvenir from her harsh landing. Gently, she reached for her baby, cradling her in her arms. Relief washed over her as she examined her child, finding no visible injuries. The baby's calm eyes looked onto hers, and she smiled weakly.

Unfastening her cloak, she began to breastfeed, the familiar rhythm soothing her own frazzled nerves. The baby's tiny hands grasped her finger, and a sense of peace settled over them. For a fleeting moment, the darkness receded, and all that mattered was this fragile, precious life.

With the baby asleep, she turned her attention to her own wounds. The arrow's trajectory had been merciless, piercing her back and exiting through her abdomen. She winced, assessing the damage. Ripping a strip from her tattered gown, she fashioned a makeshift bandage. Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and grasped the arrow's shaft. With a silent prayer, she snapped off the protruding half, her teeth clenched against the agony.

Sweat beaded on her brow as she worked to stem the bleeding. She carefully left the remaining fragment embedded, fearing that removing it would unleash a deadly haemorrhage before she could find medical aid. She trembled as she tied the bandage, the fabric-stained crimson. The pain was a living thing, writhing within her. She fought to remain lucid, focusing on her child's peaceful face.

She stood, swaying precariously as dizziness washed over her. Blood loss had taken its toll. Clutching her baby tightly, she began to navigate the cavernous space. Hours passed, the darkness seeming endless. Each step echoed off the walls as she searched for an exit. Finally, a glimmer of hope – a tunnel leading to a smaller cave.

Birds flitted about, their gentle chirping a soothing balm. She breathed easier, deeming the space safe. And the, a miracle – shaft of light in the distance. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she quickened her pace. The cave mouth beckoned, a haven of brightness. She closed her eyes, letting the warmth wash over her. As she opened them. The world burst into vibrant colour. Taking a deep breath, she filled her lungs with fresh air, purging the foul scent of the cave. The sweetness was intoxicating.

Freedom.

Squinting, she took in her surroundings. The cave's entrance, hidden behind rocks and shrubbery, revealing its secrets only to those who sought them. A hill stretched below, its slope daunting. She scanned the area, searching for a safe descent. Weathered stones and overgrown vegetation hinted at a forgotten path. Testing each step, she began her cautious decent.

As she climbed down, the landscape unfolded before her. The forest sprawled, a tapestry of greens, with sunlight filtering through the canopy. This was no Immortal Forest, dense and foreboding. Here, light danced, casting dappled shadows. The trees stood taller, their branches swaying gently. Birds flitted between limbs, their songs filling the air. A brook babbled in the distance, its melody weaving into the symphony.

Guided by the gentle gurgle, she found the brook and quenched her thirst. Revitalised, she pressed on, her feet carrying her weary body for hours. The road materialised, worn smooth by carriage wheels. As she walked, exhaustion crept up, a relentless foe. Fatigue, hunger and thirst conspired against her, worsened by the dizzying haze of blood loss. Her vision blurred, darkness encroaching. With final effort, she sought refuge beneath a nearby tree, its branches stretching towards the road like outstretched arms. She settled against the trunk, cradling her baby.

As the world faded, she prayed for help to find her child. "Let someone come." She whispered; her voice barely audible. "Please, save my baby."

Her eyes locked onto the road, scanning for any sign of rescue. Carriage rattled by, oblivious to her plight. Would anyone stop?

As she nursed her baby, lost in thought, the sound of horseshoes on gravel carried on the breeze. A luxurious carriage rounded the bend, its crest emblazoned on the door. Two majestic horses, the coats gleaming. Drew the vehicle. Too weak to stand, she entrusted her fate to the goods. Perhaps, just perhaps, this carriage held her salvation.

Inside, Lord Aaron and Lady Helena returned from a charity gala. Their conversation filled with warmth and laughter. Suddenly, the coachman reined in the horses.

"My Lord," he called out, "There's a woman on the side of the road. She appears... distressed."

Lord Aaron and Lady Helena stepped down from the carriage, their eyes drawn to the woman huddled beneath the tree. Despite her tattered gown, her beauty shone through. Lady Helen rushed towards her; concern etched on her face.

"Good heavens, she's injured. Mr Thompson, bring blanket and water!"

As the coachman complied, Lord Aaron surveyed the scene. "What could have happened here? This region's relatively safe."

Mr Thompson returned with the supplies; his expression thoughtful. "Perhaps she fled her home, my lord, or... stole the baby. Look at her feet – blisters and swelling."

"No, the baby's hers," Lord Aaron said, his eyes filled with compassion as he examined the woman's injuries. "What's crucial is understanding what compelled her to flee her home and who caused her this deadly injury."

As he spoke, he gently tried to take the baby from her arms, hoping to provide aid. However, the woman stirred, her shallow breathing quickening. She whispered something inaudible, her voice barely audible over the rustling of leaves.

Lord Aaron's expression turned sombre. "What is it? What are you trying to tell me?"

"Please, take my baby... raise her as your own," the woman begged, her voice laced with desperation. "Hide her well, for there are those in my world who seek to harm her. My world is too treacherous for her to survive."

A coughing fit wracked her body, and blood trickled from her lips. Lady Helena's face contorted in distress. "We must get her to the hospital at once!"

The woman's grasp on Lady Helena's arm tightened. "No...no use. I'm dying. The arrow... coated with a deadly poison." Her gaze locked on her baby, and her voice dropped to whisper. "Take my baby... just take her."

With a final surge of energy, she focused on her child,

'con l'ultima essenza della mia vita, ti proteggo dai tuoi nemici e lego le tenebre dentro di te con l'essenza della mia energia. Possa il mio spirito guidarti verso il tuo compagno'

As she finished to chant her spell, she pressed a tender kiss to her child's forehead. A soft, ethereal light emanated from her lips, and a star-like sigil materialised on the baby's forehead. The symbol flickered, then vanished. "Your brother will find you, my little one," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. With a gentle smile, she handed the baby to Lady Helena. As their fingers touched, the woman's gaze locked onto her child's face.

Tears streaming down her cheeks as she bestowed one final, lingering kiss on her baby's forehead. Her smile faltered, and her eyes conveying the deep sorrow of leaving her child behind. As the life force ebbed from her body, she began to fade away. Her form dissipated, leaving behind only a shimmering dust that swirled in the gentle breeze. Even the immortals, it seemed, were not immune to the inevitable of death.