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Seated on a timeworn bed, her delicate touch graced the prominent swell of her abdomen, where life stirred within. Blonde tresses framed her face as she regarded the enigma housed within. Her voice, scarcely more than a breath, intoned an incantation.

"Life and death, they're bound to be,

Yet life's hope, as you can see,

A beacon in the darkest night's embrace,

Though it dims and shadows it may chase,

The time it bears brings change's decree."

With her head bowed and eyes shut tight, Amarta's cheeks bore the gentle weight of tearful sorrow. "Forgive me, my dearest. You shall encounter such experience."

"Mother failed to take care of you," Amarta's voice quivered, her lifeless lips stammered over the words. "I wished for you to live in freedom and savor the meaning of life in comfort."

The wooden door adorned with some iron creaked open, revealing several Royal Guardians entering the damp, squalid chamber, with a few torches attached to the stone wall. Their synchronized footsteps led them to a certain spot - Amarta's cell.

"Your Highness Queen Amarta," a short, black-haired man announced and lowered his head. "We are here to take you."

Amarta looked upward, recognizing the Royal Guardian. "Frederick, you shouldn't address me like that. I don't want any more sacrifices because of me."

Frederick offered a faint smile. "That's not an issue, Your Highness. Our devotion is never faded to you." He began unlocking the queen's restraints and then entered. "We are here under the Elder of the Obsidian Sage Order. She wants to see you."

The woman abruptly stood, her eyes wide, and her lips parted. "Reverend Elena?" Frederick nodded in response to Amarta's bewilderment, then added, "Is there something happened, Frederick?"

"I don't know, Your Highness, but it seems urgent," the tall, well-built man stated. "Rest assured, Herich seems unable to do anything right now." He turned to his companions, who smiled.

Amarta contemplated the cases of why Elena wished to see her. Did she come because she knew Amarta was pregnant? If so, she might have met Amarta's child, Alorian, and brought information from the outside world that Amarta was unaware of.

"Is it appropriate for me to meet Reverend Elena in this current state?" Amarta asked, considering her disheveled appearance.

"Do not be concerned, Your Highness," a woman with her hair tied in a bun said, offering her red apparel. "We've prepared everything."

Amarta smiled at the radiant expression of the Royal Guardian. She hadn't expected many of them to still show kindness to her after the tragic and brutal events. Her heart melted. "Thank you so much, Eriska."

In the dark corridor, their footsteps reverberated, filling the space. Queen Caeloria now appeared different from before, her elegance noticeable as she should be. Amarta's eyes squinted as she basked in the sunlight that shone on the vast and luxurious wide hall.

As they traversed the corridors, a sense of astonishment overcame Amarta. Even though Herich had assumed authority over Caeloria, the people they encountered continued to observe these respectful courtesies towards her. It struck Amarta as remarkable that her diminished position as a castle slave did not deter them from upholding such etiquette.

Upon reaching an ornate, majestic entrance following the traversal of various corridors, Amarta was greeted by Maretta, who stood there, anticipating her arrival. Tears welled in Maretta's azure eyes as she beheld her sister, and she embraced her with warmth and affection.

"Oh, Amarta, forgive me," she sobbed. "When I learned about the cruelness of my husband upon you, I couldn't bear it, and I regret it as I do nothing about it."

Amarta closed her eyes once more, offering solace to her sister as she returned the embrace. "Don't be upset, sister. I understand your situation. I'm just grateful that you're safe and sound."

She released the embrace, observing Maretta's transformation. "Even with your new form."

Despite the tears, Maretta managed a chuckle, attempting a smile. "Thank you, Amarta. Let's head inside; Reverend Elena has been sincere to meet you."

She nodded and took a deep breath to brace herself mentally before reuniting with the Obsidian Sage Order after such a long absence. As they entered the room, Herich sat across from Reverend Elena, while the other two Obsidian members positioned themselves in the corner of the room, right in front of a full-size window.

A magnificent chandelier cast radiant reflections of light, adding to the opulent surroundings of the conference. However, the atmosphere was anything but beautiful, and tension hung in the air as Amarta's gaze met that of Reverend Elena, who observed the condition of her abdomen.

"Leave us!" the elder shouted with a loud and serious voice, causing nearly everyone to freeze.

Herich quickly interjected, "Reverend Elena, what are you talking about? Can't we discuss this together with—"

"Leave now!" As if hypnotized, their hearts raced so fast that Herich hurriedly obeyed the elder's command, and shut the door behind them with Maretta.

Leaving only Amarta and the Obsidian Sage Order, Elena called out, "Come here, Amarta."

The braided blonde woman swallowed hard before moving toward Reverend Elena and halted right in front of her. Amarta's body trembled uncontrollably, fear filling her veins as she could see Reverend Elena's chill expression so clearly.

"Kneel before me." Amarta followed the order. "Closer, Amarta."

Amarta, her movements deliberate and filled with trepidation, crept closer, stopping mere inches from the seat where Elena resided. With a deep-seated apprehension, averted her stare, her eyes avoiding any contact with the elder. Her hands were cold, reached out and laid them upon Amarta's cheeks, drawing her head close beside her own.

"You are safe, for now." The soft voice whispered right into Amarta's ear, sending shivers down her spine. Such behavior is something unexpected, especially from an Obsidian Sage Order.

She then released Amarta and continued, "I have met Alorian. He has succeeded in his first trial."

No mother wouldn't be thrilled to hear that her child had succeeded, and the same went for Amarta, her once-determined eyes now filled with tears. She struggled to rein in her feelings, attempting to conceal them by lowering her head in a humble gesture of appreciation.

"However, he still has to continue his second trial," the elder with the short white hair noted. "Time is not on our side."

A pause ensued as she assessed Amarta's state. "Your choice to undertake that ritual was relevant to our circumstances, Amarta. Your newborn will be needed for Caeloria's future alongside Alorian."

"We could await whether the Rebellion will successfully take over or the opposite," the Elder stated, in a manner entirely inscrutable to Amarta.

The woman still kneeling couldn't contain her curiosity any longer and asked, "Rebellion?"

"They were formed because they still believe in you," Reverend Elena responded. "That's why you must remain here, in a situation still fraught and uncertain."

"If they fail, you will lose your significance here," the old woman said, her wrinkled eyes narrowed. "Unless you choose to come with us."

Amarta was stuck there in silence, rendered speechless, as the figure before her continued, "Our main course is to ensure the child's survival. And when the child is born, she will forever require your existence, not merely a mother's affection but also the concealed magic that resides within you."

"I apologize, but what does that mean, Reverend Elena?" Amarta was surprised by the complexity of these schemes and the mysterious secret concealed within her.

"I've observed that you had a uniqueness, much akin to the rest of us," Elena leaned in, her stare piercing Amarta with earnestness. "Deep within you, I witness a hidden dark Prana intertwined with your knowledge."

"You are a wielder of Dark Magic."

***

In a different part of the bustling city of Aliron, the crosswalk was a lively thoroughfare, filled with people in ceaseless motion. The scene was a symphony of urban life, with citizens going about their activities and automobiles weaving through the streets. However, amidst the throng, there was a figure whose attire concealed her identity, making her way purposefully to a specific area.

She exuded a sense of style in her knee-length black outwear, the fabric gracefully draping as she deftly maneuvered through a narrow alleyway, emerging from the tumultuous surroundings. She paid no heed to the brown boots, now speckled with puddle splashes, as she came to a stop at a door guarded by two imposing individuals.

A bowler hat partially veiled her visage, but strands of blonde hair dangling beneath offered a glimpse of the woman's identity. Once granted permission, she entered and navigated her way to a predetermined destination with a sense of purpose, descending the stairs leading to the basement.

"Oh my, aren't you a bit late?" a man with sleek, straight hair and impeccable fashion sense remarked in a corridor. His attire exuded sophistication.

The mysterious woman didn't even halt her stride as she replied, "There are esteemed guests at the palace."

"Oh? Who might that be?" He inquired, following closely behind the woman before him. "Don't tell me it's those sycophants who care for nothing but wealth under this regime!"

"It's the Obsidian Sage Order," the blonde figure retorted as she stood before a wooden door. "For now, no one dares mistreat the queen as long as they remain there."

The man nodded, understanding the situation. "I hope with their presence, our cause will flow smoothly."

Together, they entered a spacious chamber. It bore the hallmarks of a clandestine meeting place, filled with a multitude of individuals already assembled. Their numbers were formidable, evidence to the cause's support. The two of them advanced towards the front of the room.

"Ah, I thought you wouldn't make it," the young man with chestnut hair exclaimed, a warm smile gracing his face as he addressed the audience.

She removed her bowler hat, unveiling the countenance she had hidden from the public eye. Suspicions were confirmed; it was none other than Fiona! "Shall we begin the discussion?"