It was a dark evening. The sun dipped behind the mountains, casting long shadows like creeping fingers. The Great War had ended yet the scent of scorched magic still lingered in the air. In the distance, the hills echoed with silence where armies once roared.
Lord Thorne Emberfell, once the noble protector of the magical realms, had fallen into darkness. Once known for his gentle emerald eyes and warm laughter, Thorne had been a scholar of time, a master of spells . But his obsession with controlling time and death twisted his soul. No longer a guardian, he was feared now as the Lord of the Hollow Court.
"Thorne, please come back... it isn't too late," pleaded Elira Emberfell, his sister. Her golden-brown hair whipped in the wind as she faced him one last time. Beside her, Malrik Tornvale Thorne's former friend remained
silent, carrying the weight of guilt and sorrow.
But Thorne did not return.
That very night, Elira rushed to Starlight Hollow Hospital. There, she witnessed both sorrow and miracle: Thorne's wife, Lady Solen, gave birth to a baby girl Lyla Emberfell, born on March 5, 2010, under a sky humming with ancient magic. Her eyes sparkled like starlight, and her laugh echoed with hope.
Just a month later, Zara Moonhart and her husband Leo, Thorne's closest allies, gave birth to twin daughters on April 19, 2010, during a rare lunar eclipse. Both girls were identical so alike that even Zara couldn't tell them apart.
But fate had other plans.
That very night, Thorne appeared silently. His black cloak drifted like smoke. Without a word, he took the Moonharts' eldest twin still a newborn and vanished into the shadows.
He named her Mona, raising her deep within the Hollowlands and training her in the black magic he had mastered. He told her she was his only daughter, never revealing the truth.
Mona grew up as his heir tough, skilled, and loyal. All the while, the Moonharts mourned the child they lost, raising the second twin, Nova, with strength and love. She shimmered with frost, her eyes glowing like ice beneath the moon. Nova grew up alongside Lyla, the two girls bonded by fate and something deeper: destiny.
One Year Later…
Thunder roared outside as rain danced wildly against the windows of Emberfell Manor. Inside, the golden glow of lanterns warmed the room. It was Lyla's first birthday. The hall was filled with laughter, banners, and the sweet aroma of cake and flowers.
Suddenly, Lyla clapped her hands and giggled, "Grindlefax! Coldrink!"
From the shadows emerged a strange creature of loyalty and mystery Grindlefax,
a magical servant created by Malrik. Made of dark-light magic, with glowing green eyes and a crooked cap, he flickered with secrets. He rarely spoke but could hear hidden thoughts and slip through shadows. More than a servant, he was Lyla's protector.
A soft breeze slipped through the window. Perched on the sill was a cat with violet eyes and fur as black as midnight. This was Nyx, Lyla's mysterious feline companion. She had appeared on the night of Lyla's birth and never left her side. Around her neck hung a silver charm from Ariella crafted to sense approaching dark magic.
"She's beautiful! Let's name her Nyx!" young Nova shouted, toddling over to pet the cat.
Solen smiled. "Then she's part of the family."
Fourteen Years Later…
"Mama! I'm hungry! Grindlefax, didn't you make anything?" Lyla's voice echoed through the halls.
Now fifteen, Lyla stood tall, her golden hair flowing like sunlight beneath her hooded cloak. Her bright eyes held warmth and wisdom.
For years, she had studied magic, learned ancient spells, and mastered self-control.
Grindlefax appeared with a creaky plate of snacks. Nyx curled in Lyla's lap.
"You're adorable," Lyla smiled, stroking her fur.
Nova entered, quiet as moonlight. Her jet-black hair shimmered like shadows, her icy eyes full of silent power. Though she rarely spoke, her magic spoke for her.
"I'm hungry too," Nova grinned.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang.
Solen appeared still graceful and fierce. "Mail's here!"
Nova rushed forward. "Auntie! Is there a letter for us?"
With a glowing smile, Solen handed her two envelopes. "From the Thornwick!"
Nova squealed, "Leo! Zara! Come quickly!"
Leo and Zara entered older, wiser, proud.
The letters came from Thornwick Academy of Arcane Arts the realm's most prestigious magic school.
Everyone celebrated. Yet, as Lyla and Nova held their letters, a quiet sadness passed between them. This was the beginning of something new... but also a farewell to the only home they'd ever known.
That night, Lyla stood by her window, moonlight painting her floor.
"Dad," she whispered. "Wherever you are... please help me."
She climbed into bed, wrapping the blanket tightly around her.
Outside, Nyx sat perched on the rooftop, tail flicking.
In the distance, the shadows stirred.
The real story was only just beginning.