At the same time Inside the grand palace, David Zechariah standing in the princesses chamber with Horror.
With a sharp turn, he strode toward the guards stationed outside the chamber. "Alert the king at once. The princesses have disappeared," he commanded, his voice firm despite the storm of questions raging in his mind.
The soldiers hesitated only for a second before breaking into a sprint, vanishing down the corridors to deliver the dire news. Meanwhile, Zechariah stepped back into the room, scanning every inch with a soldier's precision. The magical Book lay on the floor, its once-glowing pages now dull and lifeless. The air still hummed faintly with residual magic, but there were no other clues—no sign of a struggle, no trace of where they had gone. It was as if the golden light had simply erased them from existence.
Beyond the chamber, chaos erupted in the royal court. Ministers and noblemen filled the grand hall, their voices clashing in heated debate. Accusations flew wildly—fingers pointed at the magical creatures of the realm, their kind always an easy scapegoat in times of crisis. The tension in the room thickened with every passing moment, and the king sat upon his throne, his expression grim, his fingers gripping the edge as if holding back an oncoming storm.
Then, a messenger arrived, breathless. "Your Majesty, Royal Commander Zechariah has arrived."
The king's gaze darkened. "Send him in."
Zechariah entered the hall, his boots echoing against the polished marble floor as he approached the throne. He stopped at a respectful distance and bowed deeply.
The king's voice was laced with barely contained fury. "Where are my daughters?" His hands clenched the arms of his throne, knuckles white. "How did they vanish while you were guarding them? Do you know what happened?"
Zechariah lifted his head, meeting the king's piercing gaze. "Your Majesty, the princesses disappeared in a burst of golden light. I saw it with my own eyes, but I do not yet know the source of the magic." His voice was steady, though inside, he wrestled with the weight of his own failure.
He recalled once again, what was happened at that time. A single golden spark flickered to life upon the fragile parchment of the Book, but in the blink of an eye, it erupted into a blinding radiance. The entire chamber was bathed in a golden storm, tendrils of shimmering energy spiraling outward like living currents of light. Alexandra recoiled, shielding her face as the force surged around them, its intensity overwhelming. The very air crackled with energy, distorting the room's familiar walls until they twisted and blurred, as though reality itself was unraveling.
From the corridor, David Zechariah's sharp eyes caught the unnatural glow spilling from beneath the princesses' door. His pulse quickened. Something was wrong. Without hesitation, he sprinted toward the chamber, his hand reaching for the ornate door handle.
But just as his fingers brushed against the cool metal, a voice rang through the air.
"Hold on," Starlet commanded, her tone steady yet infused with an undeniable power, Starlet looked into the eyes of Zechariah.
In that moment, time fractured.
David's breath hitched as the world around him slowed to a crawl. The sound of his heartbeat stretched into a deep, resonant echo. His movements became sluggish, as though he were trapped in a thick, invisible current. The door creaked open at a painfully slow pace, but beyond it, the impossible unfolded—
The golden maelstrom raged with intensity, enveloping Alexandra and Starlet in its dazzling embrace. Their forms wavered within the light, outlines flickering like mirages on a scorching day. Then, in an instant, they were gone.
No scream. No resistance. Just silence.
The glow dimmed, leaving the chamber eerily still. The parchment, now dull and lifeless, fluttered to the ground like a discarded relic, its magic spent. The air still hummed with residual energy, but the princesses had vanished—swallowed whole by a force beyond his comprehension.
David Zechariah stood frozen, his mind racing, his outstretched hand grasping at nothing but emptiness.
Royal Commander Zechariah stood motionless for a long moment, staring at the empty space where the princesses had been. The golden storm had vanished without a trace, leaving behind nothing but the heavy silence of absence. His heart pounded, but years of discipline forced him to remain composed.
With a sharp turn, he strode toward the guards stationed outside the chamber. "Alert the king at once. The princesses have disappeared," he commanded, his voice firm despite the storm of questions raging in his mind.
The king's glare bore Into him. "Have you found anything?"
Zechariah hesitated for only a breath. "There was a manuscript in their chamber. It was glowing moments before they vanished. I believe it holds the key to their disappearance."
A murmur swept through the court. Some faces filled with fear, others with suspicion. The weight of uncertainty pressed upon the room.
The king exhaled sharply, his expression unreadable. Then, his voice rang with unwavering authority. "Then find them, Royal Commander Zechariah. No matter what it takes."
Zechariah bowed again, determination settling deep in his bones. "I will not rest until they are found, Your Majesty."
The murmurs In the court had not yet settled when a tall, sharp-eyed minister stepped forward. Benjamin Carter, a man known for his cunning and deep distrust of the magical folk, fixed his gaze on Royal Commander Zechariah. His voice, though calm, carried an accusatory edge.
"Royal Commander," he began, folding his arms, "do you truly believe this is not the work of those magical creatures? Their kind has meddled in our affairs before. Who else would have the power to make the princesses vanish into thin air?"
A ripple of agreement spread through the court. The nobility, already tense, leaned in to hear Zechariah's response.
Zechariah met Benjamin's gaze without flinching. His expression was as unyielding as steel. "This is none of their doing," he said, his voice firm and unwavering. "I have already sent soldiers to secure every magical creature found near the palace. They have been captured and are under strict guard. If they had any hand in this, we would know." His sharp gaze swept over the gathered ministers. "This is something else—something far more powerful."
A hush fell over the court, uncertainty replacing anger. The room held its breath as the king, who had been silent in deep thought, finally spoke.
"Royal Commander Zechariah." His voice carried across the hall, heavy with both sorrow and authority. "I entrust the entire responsibility to you." His fingers gripped the edge of his throne, his pain barely masked by his regal bearing. "Please, find my daughters. No matter what it takes."
Zechariah stepped forward and placed his fist over his chest in a warrior's salute. His expression was one of absolute resolve. "I will bring them back, Your Majesty," he vowed, his voice echoing through the great hall. "No force—mortal or magical—will keep them from me."
The court watched as the Royal Commander turned on his heel, his cloak billowing behind him as he strode out of the chamber, ready to begin the hunt for the missing princesses.
The grand hall, though momentarily silenced by Royal Commander Zechariah's departure, quickly descended into chaos once more. Ministers and noblemen spoke over one another, their voices rising in heated debate.
"I tell you, this has to be the work of the magical creatures!" one minister declared, slamming his palm against the long council table. "Who else wields magic strong enough to make the princesses vanish?"
"They have always been a threat!" another chimed in. "And did you hear him? He refused to blame them! What if—" the man hesitated before lowering his voice, "—what if Zechariah himself is complicit?"
A murmur of agreement swept through the chamber.
Benjamin Carter, who had been watching the exchange with sharp eyes, leaned forward. "It is strange, is it not?" he mused. "The Royal Commander has always defended those creatures. Perhaps too much." His words dripped with suspicion. "What if he is hiding something?"
The accusations lingered in the air, thick with tension.