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Prologue

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Long ago, in a forgotten corner of Goro—a hidden meadow shrouded in mist and myth—a tower rose from the tangled grasses like a wound against the sky. Within its crumbling stone walls, Mirage Valenhart spent her days watching a world she could never touch. Magic had marked her since birth—a gift that once made her a curiosity in her kingdom of Valen, but now made her a threat.

Her parents had feared she would become another Silla—the witch-queen whose broken heart had blackened all of Aranthia. Silla had once ruled the entire continent with grace and might, until betrayal hollowed her soul and left her realm in ashes. When she fell, Aranthia splintered into fractured kingdoms, each one eager to seize its own piece of her broken throne.

Magic in Aranthia had always balanced on a blade's edge—light and dark, creation and ruin—separated by a fragile line that few could walk without falling. By ancient law, a witch's power fully awakened on their twenty-fifth birthday, solidifying into either light or dark. Light magic healed, protected, and nurtured; dark magic devoured, corrupted, and destroyed.

Mira's parents feared the darkness in her blood. So they locked her away, believing that isolation would starve her magic of the pain and passion that might tip it into darkness. They called it protection. She called it a cage.

Twenty years had passed since the day they cast her out. Twenty years of silence and cold stone. And with every passing night, she felt the magic inside her stir like a restless storm.




AUTHORS NOTE: 

I wrote this story when I was 15. I have decided to pick it back up again! I hope you enjoy.

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