The Beauty Of A Red Butterfly

Princess Elara stepped forward, her figure framed against the jagged remains of a mausoleum.

Her eyes—once the soft, regal red everyone recognized—were now an unnatural red, glowing like embers.

The whites of her eyes were pitch black.

A sickening contrast that sent chills down everyone's spines.

Her face was twisted into a cruel mockery of her usual grace.

Her lips curling into a sneer as she took another step forward.

Ariana, her breathing labored, narrowed her gaze.

"She's… she's possessed..."

She said, her voice trembling but resolute.

"We can all see it..."

Draven growled, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword.

"Whatever that thing is, it's not the princess anymore."

The realization settled heavily on the group.

There was no time to argue, no time to strategize.