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would have it in his possession. When Orion first arrived with his twin sister, Luyna, everyone was excited that two sorcerers had come to Thronegarden. Damselfly had taken an instant dislike to the magician who watched her with dark eyes and remained as shrouded in mystery as much as his red cape. Stealing the key from Orion would be difficult; however, Damselfly was not about to give up. She could not dismiss the feeling that her mother was being held prisoner and if she could just see her everything would be all right. Voices cut through Damselfly’s inner turmoil; they were low but the words were spoken in an urgent tone, which allowed them to travel. Creeping closer, the princess recognised the voices as belonging to Luyna and Orion. Staying protectively within the shadows, she listened to the twins arguing.

“Whatever I do she still grows weaker,” Orion stated.

“You should let me help you,” Luyna offered. “Why must the queen’s health be your sole responsibility?”

“I have always been better at the healing arts,” Orion countered.

“I can help, if you only give me the key.”

Damselfly’s heart began pounding as she realised that Luyna wanted the same thing she did, the key to her mother’s room.

“I do not see how you could help her. She may be beyond anyone’s help,” Orion prophesied.

“Do not despair, brother. She is not lost yet,” Luyna comforted.

Damselfly risked a glance from her hiding place and caught a glimpse of the siblings embracing stiffly. Despite their close origins, they appeared so completely opposite. Orion was dark with serious features and an aura of gravity. Luyna was light with angelic features and a radiant disposition.

“You should get some rest, brother. You cannot help anyone in this state,” Luyna advised.

Damselfly tried to push herself into the darkness as Orion swept away and Luyna darted straight past her. The princess decided to follow Luyna as she was headed towards her mother’s room while Orion was undoubtedly heading to his own quarters for some rest. Luyna moved with purpose, her feline grace was matched by the distinct yellow slits of her eyes as she checked the corridor before pulling an object from her dress. A moment later Damselfly watched as the sorceress unlocked her mother’s door with the stolen key and disappeared inside. Bravely, Damselfly followed, trying not to make a sound although her heart was thundering against her chest. Inside her mother’s sanctuary it was dark which helped hide Damselfly as she entered. Before Luyna could notice her trespass, she dove under the bed and waited, barely breathing, expecting to be discovered at any moment. After several stressful seconds, Damselfly began to calm herself. It seemed like her presence had gone undetected and now she wanted to know what was happening in the room. It sounded like Luyna was whispering to her mother; unfortunately, the words were spoken too softly for her to understand their meaning. A noise in the corridor straightened Luyna who had been leaning over the bed, which was covered in complete darkness. The sorceress hesitated for a moment before leaving the room and locking the door behind her. Damselfly rushed to the door and tried to open it; the door was locked. Accepting her current predicament, Damselfly’s focus returned to her mother and she rushed to the bed to discover a pale imitation of the woman she loved.

“Mother,” Damselfly whispered.

Queen Etherelle was just visible at this close range, lying helpless in the bed, her beauty marred by sickness that had strung white in her lustrous hair. Unable to bear her mother’s transformation, Damselfly ran to the door. Discovering it still locked, she banged frantically on the door, trying to gain someone, anyone’s attention. She no longer cared about getting into trouble. Damselfly just wanted to get out of this room. She could not stand to see her beautiful mother so withered. After a while Damselfly ceased banging. No one was around and she had been sobbing so hard it became painful to breathe. Stepping back from the door, Damselfly caught sight of a dark silhouette in the corner and for a moment she mistook it for Orion. As the shadow took further shape, Damselfly glimpsed a rippling cloak that shrouded whoever was under it, except for a skeletal hand that held a shimmering scythe.

Death had returned.

“No,” Damselfly whispered. “You can’t have her.”

When Death spoke, it sounded like a voice, centuries old. It sounded like rocks or water speaking after an eternity of silence.

“Her time is close, only that could have drawn me back here.”

“You’re wrong,” Damselfly denied. “There is no time, no one dies, not since…” The princess could not state that the loss of time had occurred because Death had been defeated by the Fairy King.

She did not need to.

“This is different,” Death ventured. “Your mother’s illness is unnatural.”

“What is wrong with her?” Damselfly pleaded.

“Her sickness is down to powerful dark magic, strong enough to destroy her body despite the lack of passing time.”

Damselfly looked across the room to where her mother lay immobile on the bed, and sorrow threatened to overwhelm her.

“You cannot take her. I won’t let you.” Damselfly grew angry as the tears burned her eyes and throat.

“Nothing can stop death,” the reaper replied.

“The Fairy King did, he defeated you and stole your power.”

Damselfly’s fear had bubbled into anger, her frustration had grown unbearable and she lashed out despite the absurdity of a young girl facing down Death.

“He only delayed the inevitable,” Death responded.

Damselfly realised that she had somehow slumped to the floor with her back against the wall, tears streamed down her face, and she stared into the absolute darkness that was Death and her fury dissipated like fire without oxygen.

“I will do anything,” she begged. “Take me instead.”

“That is not how it works,” Death repeated.

“No, there has to be something I

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