The Blood Magic begins

The queen was left alone in the chamber, her heart heavy with the weight of what had just happened. She knew that her use of magic had been taken too far, but she had been consumed by her desire to save the kingdom. Now, she was faced with the consequences of her actions, and it seemed that her husband, the king, was not willing to forgive her.

The king sat at his desk in his study, his quill scratching across the parchment as he wrote a letter to his sister. His normally steady hand was shaking slightly, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. His argument with the queen had been heated, and he was still reeling from the way she had used her magic against him.

As he wrote, the king couldn't help but think about what had happened earlier that day. The queen had been furious about him, and in her anger, she had unleashed a powerful spell. The magic had been overwhelming, and the king felt completely helpless. It was a feeling he never wanted to experience again.

Now, as he wrote to his sister, the king couldn't help but wonder how he could become stronger. He needed to be able to defend himself against the queen's magic, to protect himself and his kingdom. But how? He let out a sigh as he completed writing his letter and gave it to his trusted men to get it delivered to his sister.

After a few days as the king was sitting in his chamber, his eyes widened in shock as a figure suddenly appeared out of nowhere. In an instant, the air seemed to shimmer and twist, as if reality itself was being contorted. A rush of wind swept through the room, and the king felt a sudden chill run down his spine.

And then, like a bolt of lightning, she appeared.

The king's sister appeared before him, her long black hair whipping around her face in the sudden gust of wind. Her eyes blazed with an otherworldly light, and her skin seemed to glow with inner energy.

For a moment, the king was frozen in awe. He was seeing her using magic for a long time.

"Hello, Rafaela," the king said, his voice echoing through the room. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important of yours."

"Greetings, brother," Rafaela said, her voice low and commanding. "How could you? I can drop all my work for my dear brother!"

The king looked at her warily but said nothing.

Rafaela continued, "I understand the fact that you want to get stronger. But by any means you say?"

"Yes," the king said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want to know. How? You know it don't you?" He closed his book and stood up from his chair. "Tell me about it."

Rafaela smiled, revealing a row of gleaming teeth. "Of course. With blood magic, you can do anything. With that, you can get healing, strength augmentation, and even immortality. However, the price for these abilities is often high."

The king seemed fascinated. "How do I learn it?" he asked.

Rafaela leaned closer to him and whispered in his ear. As she pulled away she could see the excitement on her brother's face.

After that day, things changed dramatically, and the atmosphere became thick with eerie tension. The king, who had always been a fair and just ruler, withdrew into himself, becoming more and more distant with each passing day. His once bright and friendly demeanour was replaced by a cold, calculating detachment, and he spent long hours holed up in his study, poring over ancient tomes and scrolls.

The queen, who had always been the king's confidant, tried to talk to him about his sudden change of behaviour. She begged him to confide in her, to share his troubles and worries. However, he brushed her off with a curt and dismissive response, claiming he was busy with matters of great importance. The queen could see worry and fatigue etched on his face, and it pained her to see her husband in such a state.

As the days passed, the queen began to notice subtle changes in the king's appearance and behaviour. His once youthful and handsome face was now gaunt and lined with worry, and his eyes had taken on a haunted look. She knew that whatever he was studying must be consuming him entirely, but she had no idea what it could be. The king's advisors and courtiers seemed equally baffled and concerned by their ruler's sudden change. Rumours began to circulate about the dark and forbidden knowledge that the king was seeking.

Despite her fears and suspicions, the queen continued to stand by her husband, offering him comfort and support in any way she could. But deep down, she knew that something was terribly wrong. She could only hope and pray that the king would reveal his secrets to her before it was too late.

The palace garden was a haven of beauty and serenity, a place of peace and tranquillity amidst the chaos of the royal court. The garden was vast, covering several acres of land, and was filled with a dizzying array of colours, shapes, and scents. As the queen tended to the garden, she felt a sense of calm wash over her. This was as if the worries and concerns of the world were melting away with each stroke of her hair. She could feel the warm sun on her face and the cool breeze in her hair, and for a moment, she forgot all about the troubles that plagued her. The garden was filled with all manner of flowers, from delicate lilies to fragrant roses, each one more striking than the last. There were tall trees that provided shade and shelter, their leaves rustling in the wind, and winding paths that led through hidden nooks and crannies. The air was filled with the sweet perfume of blossoms, and the sound of chirping birds and buzzing bees.

As she was lost in the serenity of her surroundings, she heard footsteps approaching. She turned to see the king standing behind her, his eyes fixed on the wildflowers she had been admiring.

She was caught off guard, as he rarely ventured into the gardens, preferring to spend his time in the confines of his study. She could see that something had changed about him. His once kind face now bore a hardened expression. She could feel a palpable tension in the air as if the very plants around them were bristling with unease.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked, his voice harsh and clipped.

"I was tending to the garden," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

The king approached her, his eyes fixed on the wildflowers. He reached out and plucked one from the ground, examining it closely before crushing it in his hand. The queen gasped, shocked by his sudden aggression.

"Leave the gardening to the servants," he spat. "You have more important things to worry about."

The queen didn't back down, and with a cold stare, she asked, "What about you Augustus? Aren't you forgetting your duties as a king too?"

The king hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting around the garden as if he was searching for something. Then he spoke in a low and ominous voice. "You wouldn't understand," he said. "But I will show you." With that, he drew a small knife from his belt and sliced open his palm. Blood poured out, dripping onto the floor, and the queen gasped in horror.

Before she could react, the king took her hand in his, and she could feel the warmth of his blood mingling with hers. Panic began to set in as the king's eyes began to glow with a strange and unsettling light. He started to chant in a language the queen could not understand. She tried to pull away, but his grip on her hand was iron-tight, and she was powerless against him. The queen felt a searing pain shoot through her body as if her very soul was being ripped from her flesh. Her mind raced with fear and confusion, unable to comprehend what was happening to her. It was a feeling she had never experienced before, and it left her gasping for breath, struggling to stay upright.

Finally, the king released her, and she fell to the floor, her hand throbbing with pain. As she looked up at him, she saw that he was smiling, a cruel and triumphant grin that sent chills down her spine.

"You see," the king grinned, "That's the power of blood magic! Fascinating? Isn't it?" He chuckled.

The queen lay on the floor gasping for breath, her mind reeling from pain and confusion. As she tried to collect her thoughts and steady her breathing, the queen felt a powerful surge of magic stirring within her, urging her to fight back. But she resisted the urge to use her own magic, knowing that if she unleashed her power, she could end up hurting the king again. She had already caused him pain in the past, and guilt still weighed heavily on her heart. The last thing she wanted was to hurt him again, especially not in this twisted and dangerous way. As the queen struggled to stand up, she felt a surge of anger and betrayal, but also a deep sense of sadness. She had loved him once, with all her heart, but now she could feel that love slipping away, replaced by fear and mistrust. "You'll regret it, Augustus!"