Hero's Journey

The wind clawed at Elara's cloak, a dark, swirling vortex that mirrored the storm brewing within her. Below, the valley stretched, an endless tapestry of green and gold stitched together by the silver thread of the Serpent's River. She was a solitary figure against the bruised purple sky, her silver hair whipping around a face etched with grim determination. Elara, barely twenty summers, yet bearing the weight of a kingdom on her slender shoulders. Her emerald eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were now hard chips of ice. "Admiring your future kingdom, little dove?" The voice, laced with honeyed venom, slithered from behind. Lord Valerius emerged from the shadows, a figure as imposing as the mountains themselves. Tall and broad-shouldered, he was clad in black armor that seemed to absorb the very light around him. His face, handsome yet cruel, was framed by long, raven hair streaked with silver. A jagged scar bisected his left eye, a permanent reminder of a battle long past, and a chilling testament to his ruthlessness. His smile did not reach his eyes. "It will all be mine soon enough."