The Price Of Magic

Aria's footsteps echoed softly against the cold stone floor as she ventured deeper into the castle's dungeons. The flickering light from the torches cast eerie shadows on the walls, but her resolve remained unshaken. She had overheard whispers among the servants—rumors of a forgotten prisoner who might hold the key to understanding Prince Damien’s curse.

The air grew colder as she descended further, a chill that seeped into her bones. Aria had to remind herself that this was necessary; she had to do everything in her power to help Damien, even if it meant venturing into the darkest corners of Elysium.

At last, she reached the bottom of the spiral staircase. Before her stood a large iron door, old and rusted, with symbols etched into its surface—symbols she recognized from the ancient tomes she had been studying. They were the same runes that marked the curse binding Damien.

Taking a deep breath, Aria pushed the door open with a creak. The room beyond was dimly lit, and at first, she could see nothing but the rough stone walls. But then her eyes adjusted, and she saw him—a figure huddled in the corner, shackled to the wall.

The man looked up as she entered, his eyes glinting in the low light. His face was gaunt, his hair unkempt, and his clothes tattered, but there was an undeniable sharpness to his gaze.

"You've come to seek answers," the prisoner said, his voice hoarse but firm.

Aria nodded, stepping closer. "I need to know about the curse on Prince Damien."

A dry laugh escaped the man’s lips. "Ah, the curse… So it still plagues the royal bloodline. I should have known."

"Who are you?" Aria asked, her voice steady despite the fear creeping into her heart.

The man’s eyes narrowed. "I am Alaric, once a trusted advisor to the crown—until I dared to challenge the dark powers that now grip the prince. I was imprisoned here for my defiance, but not before I uncovered the truth."

"What truth?" Aria pressed, hope and dread swirling inside her.

"The curse is tied to an ancient pact, one made long before Damien’s birth," Alaric explained, his tone grave. "The crown of Elysium is not just a symbol of power—it is the binding force of the curse itself. And only by destroying it can the curse be broken."

Aria's breath caught in her throat. Destroying the crown? That would mean stripping Damien of his birthright, his very claim to the throne.

"But there is more," Alaric continued, sensing her turmoil. "The curse feeds on the darkness within the bloodline. If Damien falls too deeply into the shadows, it will consume him entirely. You must keep him anchored to the light, or all will be lost."

Aria felt the weight of his words settle heavily upon her. The path ahead was more treacherous than she had imagined, but she couldn't falter now. For Damien, and for the future of Elysium, she would do whatever it took.

"How do I destroy the crown?" she asked, her voice firm with determination.

Alaric’s expression softened, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "That, my dear, is a mystery even I could not solve. But there are ancient texts hidden within the castle—seek them out, and you may find the answers you need. But beware, for there are those who will stop at nothing to protect the curse."

Aria nodded, her mind racing. She had a new mission now—one that could change the fate of the entire kingdom. But she would need to tread carefully; the shadows that surrounded Damien were growing darker, and time was running out.

As she turned to leave, Alaric’s voice stopped her. "Remember, Aria, you are not just fighting for Damien—you are fighting for Elysium itself. The crown’s curse must end, no matter the cost."

With those words echoing in her mind, Aria left the dungeons, her heart heavy but her resolve stronger than ever. The revelation in the dark had set her on a perilous path, but it was one she knew she had to follow.