The radiant glow that had once defined Morrathiel began to subtly dim, like a sun slowly being eclipsed. The vibrant colors of the flora seemed muted, the laughter of the people less frequent, replaced by a quiet unease that mirrored the lengthening shadows even at midday. The twin rivers, once shimmering with pure light, now seemed to reflect a deeper, almost melancholic hue.
Queen Selene, once the epitome of warmth and grace, underwent a transformation so gradual that many within her court initially dismissed it as the weight of leadership during troubled times. The news from the southern borders, the increasingly bold incursions of the shadow creatures, had undoubtedly cast a pall over all the kingdoms, and Morrathiel, with its fertile lands bordering the affected regions, felt the threat acutely.
However, the change in Selene went beyond mere concern. A subtle pallor began to creep into her radiant complexion, and the golden light that had once seemed to emanate from her now flickered intermittently, like a candle struggling against a draft. Her honeyed eyes, once filled with warmth and empathy, now held a distant, almost haunted quality, often gazing into the middle distance as if seeing something unseen by others.
Her decrees, once characterized by wisdom and compassion, began to take on a sharper edge. There was a growing impatience in her voice, a swiftness to judgment that was uncharacteristic of her previously measured approach. The elaborate festivals and celebrations that had defined Morrathiel became less frequent, replaced by somber pronouncements and an increasing focus on defense and preparedness. While necessary, this shift felt devoid of the joy and life that had once been the kingdom's hallmark.
Subtle signs of a darker influence began to manifest within Morrathiel. Whispers of strange rituals performed in the dead of night circulated among the common folk – gatherings in secluded groves, accompanied by chanting in an unknown tongue and the flickering of unnatural flames. The once vibrant wildlife of Morrathiel seemed to grow skittish and fearful, and patches of the fertile land began to wither and decay, an unnatural blight spreading in the shadows.
Lord Theron Vaelorin, during a tense diplomatic visit to discuss the escalating threat, couldn't help but notice the change in Queen Selene. The radiant queen he remembered from previous Conclaves was now a shadow of her former self. Her responses were often vague, her focus seemed elsewhere, and there was a guardedness in her demeanor that put him ill at ease. When he gently inquired about her well-being, her reply was a dismissive wave of her hand and a pronouncement that she was merely burdened by the weight of her responsibilities.
However, Theron observed more than just a weary queen. He noticed the subtle tremors in her hands, the fleeting moments when her eyes seemed to flicker with an unnatural light, and the almost imperceptible sigil – a twisting, thorny vine etched in dark silver – that adorned a new amulet she wore, hidden beneath her usually vibrant robes. He also noted the increasing presence of a new cadre of advisors, their faces gaunt and their eyes unsettlingly cold, who seemed to have an undue influence over the queen's decisions.
Even within Selene's own Lightbringer Clan, unease was growing. Elder members, steeped in the ancient lore of their lineage, spoke of a creeping shadow, a disharmony that was infecting the very heart of Morrathiel. They recalled prophecies of a time when the radiant light would be tested, when a darkness would rise from within, twisting beauty into corruption. Their warnings, however, were often dismissed by the queen's new advisors as the ramblings of old age.
The artistry that had once flourished in Morrathiel began to take on a darker, more unsettling tone. Sculptures depicted twisted figures and shadowed landscapes, and the vibrant colors in tapestries were replaced by muted grays and ominous blacks. The joyous melodies that once filled the air were now interspersed with discordant harmonies and haunting chants.
The connection between Selene and the land itself seemed to fray. The vibrant blooms that once followed her footsteps now withered at her touch, and the animals that had once flocked to her presence now shied away, their instincts sensing a change in the very essence of their queen.
Rumors began to circulate of Selene spending long hours in the ancient crypts beneath the Sunstone Citadel, poring over forbidden texts and engaging in solitary rituals. The light that emanated from the citadel at night took on an unnatural hue, a sickly green that pulsed with an unsettling energy.
The change in Morrathiel was not sudden or dramatic, but a slow, insidious decay, like a beautiful flower slowly being choked by unseen vines. The trade winds still blew, but they now carried whispers of fear and uncertainty. The radiant queen was fading, replaced by a figure shrouded in a growing darkness, and the once vibrant kingdom of Morrathiel was beginning to reflect the ominous shadow that had fallen upon its heart. The Concord, already strained by external threats and internal tensions, now faced the terrifying prospect of corruption rising from within one of its most cherished realms. The moon's shadow was indeed lengthening, casting a pall over the land and threatening to plunge the seven kingdoms into an even deeper darkness.