Elara's heart pounded in her chest as she stared at the ancient tree before her, the runes glowing faintly beneath her fingers. Ronan's words echoed in her mind, repeating over and over: "You were born to this forest. Your true family, your true destiny—it's tied to the very land we stand on."
She turned to him, her voice barely a whisper. "What do you mean, Ronan? What's my connection to this place?"
Ronan took a step closer, his eyes filled with a deep sadness. "The forest has always protected you, Elara. But it's not just a protector. It's your legacy. You were born here, not just in this land, but to it. Your bloodline is tied to the magic that runs through these woods."
Elara's breath caught in her throat. "Born here?" She shook her head in disbelief. "But I was raised in the kingdom. I—"
"The kingdom isn't where you were meant to be," Ronan interrupted, his voice gentle yet firm. "You were taken away from this place when you were very young, hidden from those who would have destroyed you. Your real family—the one you don't remember—are the guardians of the forest, the ones who protected it long before you were born."
Elara staggered back, trying to process what he was saying. "But… why don't I remember? Why was I taken from here?"
Ronan's expression darkened. "Because your stepmother—she wasn't just an evil woman. She was a sorceress, part of a dark faction that wanted to control the forest's magic. When you were born, your true power was too dangerous. If she had known who you were, she would have killed you before you could even understand what you were."
Elara's mind reeled. A princess? A part of the forest? The forest's magic flowing through her veins? It all seemed too unreal.
"I don't understand," she said, her voice trembling. "Why was I taken to the kingdom? Why wasn't I told any of this?"
Ronan stepped forward, his eyes locking onto hers. "To protect you. You were sent away to the kingdom so that your stepmother wouldn't find you. But the truth is, she always knew. She kept you close, watching you, waiting for the right moment to strike."
A wave of emotion washed over Elara—anger, confusion, and pain. Everything she had known, everything she had believed about herself, was a lie. She wasn't just a simple princess; she was something more, something ancient.
"Elara," Ronan continued, his voice softening, "you're not just any princess. You are the Wild Queen—the rightful heir to the forest, the one who holds its power. And your stepmother wanted nothing more than to take that power for herself."
Elara's knees felt weak, and she leaned against the ancient tree for support. "How do you know all of this?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
"I've seen it before," Ronan said, his eyes dark and distant. "I was born into this forest, trained to protect it. But I've watched you from the shadows for years, waiting for the right time to bring you back to where you truly belong."
Elara's heart fluttered in her chest. "So… what now? What am I supposed to do with all of this?"
Ronan reached out, gently taking her hand in his. "Now, you must embrace who you are. The forest is calling to you, Elara. Its magic, its power—it's yours to command. But first, you must face your past. You must confront your stepmother and take back what's rightfully yours."
Elara looked down at their joined hands, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. She wasn't sure if she was ready for what lay ahead, but one thing was clear—she couldn't run from this anymore. Her destiny had always been tied to the forest, and now, it was time to face it.
With a deep breath, Elara lifted her gaze to Ronan. "I'll do it. I'll fight for this."
Ronan's eyes softened, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. "Then we'll fight together."