Chapter 8 - The Trial of Blood and Fire
In the center of the Great Hall sat the Ancient Stone of Eldoria—a massive, ancient slab of white obsidian carved with runes from the founding of the kingdom. Legend held that only those of pure royal blood could touch the stone without triggering its ancient magical defenses.
Silence descended upon the room as the High Priest stepped forward, holding a silver ceremonial dagger.
“If the claimant is of true royal blood,” the Priest recited in a deep voice, “the stone shall ignite the Eternal Flame. If she is an imposter, the stone shall consume her in ash.”
Celeste sneered, gripping her gown nervously. “Go on then, orphan. Touch it and burn!”
Mara did not hesitate. She walked up the stone steps with calm, dignified grace. She looked at her father, who gave her a firm, confident nod, and then at Captain Vance, whose hand rested supportively on his sword.
Mara took the silver dagger and made a small, quick cut across her palm. She pressed her bleeding hand firmly onto the center of the white obsidian stone.
For three agonizing seconds, nothing happened.
Celeste let out a cruel laugh. “See! Nothing! She is a fraud!”
Before the words fully left Celeste’s mouth, the white stone vibrated with a deep, thunderous rumble that shook the entire castle floor.
Bright golden light burst from the obsidian, shooting straight up toward the vaulted ceiling in a blinding column of radiant fire. The flames spun into the distinct, awe-inspiring shape of a massive golden phoenix, hovering high above Mara’s head.
At the exact same moment, the mark on Mara’s collarbone flamed with matching light, illuminating the dark hall with brilliant, warm radiance.
The nobles fell to their knees in sheer awe.
“The Phoenix Mark!” the High Priest cried out, bowing deeply. “The true heir has returned! Long live Princess Aurelia!”
“Long live Princess Aurelia!” the crowd shouted in unison, their voices shaking the grand walls.
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Celeste fell to her knees, weeping in bitter terror and defeat. Malakor backed away toward a side exit, his face twisted in desperate rage. He suddenly pulled a concealed dagger from his sleeve and lunged straight toward Mara!
“If I cannot have the throne, no one will!” Malakor shrieked.
