A young woman stood in front of a mirror framed in brass and took a deep breath.
“You can do this. You’re the best. You’ve waited for this your whole life,” she tried to convince herself.
Today was the day she would stop being a student and become a full-fledged witch. Her mentor, Eliseya, had taken her in twelve years ago. She remembered that day for two reasons: it was the day she lost her family—but also the day she gained someone just as important: a mentor and a friend. Thanks to Eliseya, she no longer feared loneliness. She had been raised to be a wise and ambitious witch. Today would show what that upbringing had produced.
The ballroom resembled a throne room on the day of the Old King’s coronation. Each of the young candidates hoped she would be the one chosen as the Royal Nightingale. One of the King’s advisors stepped forward and stood before the row of almost-witches. After this announcement, one of them would become the second most important person in all of Central Europe—right after the King.
“By the decree of our beloved King Sigbert, I hereby declare that the title of Princely, and then Royal Nightingale, is awarded to…” As the advisor unrolled the scroll, Kiara subconsciously held her breath. She forced herself to breathe normally. The official barely managed to say “Alicia” when the girl standing next to Kiara let out a high-pitched squeal, mingling with gasps of surprise.
An overwhelming sense of disappointment washed over Kiara. All her ambitions burst like a soap bubble. With the last remnants of willpower, she kept her expression neutral. But the royal advisor hadn’t finished speaking yet.
“…and Celine… and Danielle…” he trailed off, visibly confused. Everyone looked at one another, puzzled. The official stepped away, returning a moment later with a smaller scroll sealed with the royal emblem.
“My apologies, there has been a mistake. The title of Princely Nightingale is awarded to Kiara.”
That day had not gone exactly as she had dreamed, but only one thing mattered:
She had been chosen as the Nightingale.
Kiara often looked back on the day of the selection. Whenever she faced a difficult moment, she reminded herself that even though things don’t always go as planned, what truly matters is the goal we achieve. And her most recent goal was about to come true. The Old King had been in declining health for several years. Choosing the Nightingale had been one of his last fully lucid decisions. For that reason, Kiara had patiently remained at the side of the ailing monarch and Prince Samuel for the past five years—both of them needed to learn how to work together and rule the kingdom. One might say they had succeeded all too well. Eliseya had once warned her: power is a great responsibility, and even the brightest mind can falter and fall prey to greed. That had been her final piece of advice before they parted ways. At the time, Kiara hadn’t understood those words.
The inevitable happened. The young prince became king. Kiara stood by his side and advised him as best she could. Together, they established the Union of Magical Beings to protect equality, organized archives of essential texts to serve as the foundation of education—because knowledge is power—and founded a court to ensure that justice would be served fairly. Every reform was meant to improve the kingdom. The New King agreed to all the suggestions because he trusted Kiara. She was his Nightingale—the one who wanted what was best for him and the realm. He trusted her completely. And because he did, so did the people.
Years passed, and the kingdom continued to change. Over time, Kiara’s advice and ideas grew sharper, more rigid, and increasingly oppressive. Books across the kingdom were censored to eliminate all traces of heresy, and the original versions were burned at the stake. Taverns were no longer seen as shelters for travelers or places to eat and drink, but as dens of debauchery and sin. They were closed under penalty of death. The court that was meant to deliver justice had become its very opposite—judges could be bribed, and verdicts depended on one’s connections. Those who violated the rules of the Union of Magical Beings no longer answered to local authorities—they were brought directly before the King. Through these oppressive reforms, magical beings gradually came to be seen as a threat. The Union, once created to ensure equality and justice, had become something entirely different.
Kiara had done it all with the intent of improving the kingdom. But the truth of her actions struck her when she saw what was happening in the audience room.
King Samuel sat on his throne, and before him, kneeling on the floor surrounded by guards, was a group of robed mages. Kiara instantly recognized Eliseya. She suppressed the shock that must have shown on her face and stepped toward the throne.
“What does this mean?” she asked.
“They’re all a threat to us and the kingdom,” the King replied. “They spread heresy and encourage people to ‘think for themselves and resist royal propaganda.’ They’re using magical tricks!”
Kiara looked at her mentor, who shook her head with sorrow and disappointment in her eyes. It felt as though she had let her down.
“These weren’t tricks,” Eliseya said quietly. “We merely let people see the truth. What the two of you have done to this kingdom would break your father’s heart. You’ve taken the most precious thing from your people: freedom.”
The mention of the Old King made Samuel roar with anger. He ordered the guards to bring the mages before the Court. His rage was plain to see. Kiara, however, felt something entirely different.
The sorrow and disappointment in her mentor’s face made her realize she had failed. Despite her honest intentions, she had lost herself in the power granted by her role as Royal Nightingale. She hadn’t changed the world for the better—but for the worse. The truth pierced her like a dagger to the heart.
Kiara waited for Samuel in his office. The King would soon finish his audiences. As she paced the room, her eyes landed on a half-open drawer. A magical pull drew her toward it. She opened it fully and found a stack of letters tied with a lavender ribbon—the same color as the one Eliseya always wore around her neck. Without hesitation, she read them all. Her mentor had tried to reach her, to reason with her. The King had intercepted the letters, leading Kiara to believe Eliseya had abandoned her. In the final letter, Eliseya wrote that the people must be given back what had been taken from them, and that she would do it even at the cost of her own life—because that was the true purpose of witches: to serve the people.
Kiara realized then that she had made everything worse. It was her fault Eliseya now faced such a terrible fate. Tears welled in her eyes as the painful truth dawned on her.
The King appeared in the doorway. When he saw the letter in her hand, he fell to his knees.
“Forgive me,” he whispered. “I just wanted you to keep changing the kingdom for the better… with me.”
“You don’t understand what we’ve done,” she said. “There was nothing good in our reforms. Nothing that truly served the people. We have failed.”
She gathered the bundle of letters and walked out of the chamber. That night, she packed only what was necessary and left the castle. She was afraid of what she had become—and of the failure she now had to live with. She mounted her horse and looked one last time at the walls of the castle that had once symbolized her great opportunity. She had never imagined life would turn out this way. Digging her heels into the horse’s sides, she galloped forward. She would fix what she had broken. She only hoped the chance for redemption still remained.
***
written by Dominka Kulbica
