Twelve years earlier, in the Kingdom of Tropos
A subtle stream of smoke began to fill the Queen’s quarters. Hundreds of burning incense sticks lined the room, creating a comforting cloud of jasmine and sandalwood. The barrier was meant to banish any evil lurking around the sanctuary while the Oracle called upon Tehwa’s grace and protection on this fateful night.
The Oracle’s steady chanting blossomed in the room, soothing the crying newborn jao ying, Crown Princess Saengfaa, who lay inside her golden bamboo cradle. Her Grace’s silence and cooperation were vital to the plan.
The Oracle warmed the enchanted palm oil between his hands and began his incantation. His fingers danced across the jao ying’s skin, weaving an invisible armor to shield her from all who sought to harm her. The oil sparkled with Mehk magic. This sak yant tattoo would stifle Jao Ying Saengfaa’s magic and royal Mehk features, but the concealed branding would reveal itself when it was time for her to return home to Tropos.
Outside in the gardens, the King stood with his team of royal guards. His sword was drawn, and his eyes darted from one end of the greenery to the other. The instant the drums signaled the ritual’s completion, he rushed into the Queen’s room.
The King sheathed his weapon to kneel beside his weeping wife.
“Teerak, they’re waiting,” he whispered. “We don’t have much time before the next attack.” He embraced his wife with his wings, lending her his strength to send their daughter away. “She’ll be safer there.”
“I’m not ready to let her go.” The Queen gazed upon her daughter’s face, letting her tears fall freely in this moment of vulnerability.
Glancing at the Oracle standing by the door, the King replied, “We must trust the Oracle. He has never led us astray. Once the Veil is in place, no one here can touch her, and her sak yant will keep her hidden in Lok Klang until she is ready.”
“Muet will never stop until her revenge is complete.”
“Which is exactly why we must send Saengfaa away,” the King insisted gently. “She will be well-protected by her guardians there.” The closed doors shuddered from a distant explosion, followed by a coded knock from his royal guards. The King leaned in to share a hug with his small family before they would be separated. Their horns clinked softly as he faced his wife and only child. “She will survive this war, even if we do not.”
A hornless, wingless couple stepped out from the curtains that hid an escape route—a makeshift doorway against the southern wall, swirling with a rainbow of colors—the shadow of a maple tree beyond the glowing portal. The appearance of the two royal guards let the royals know that their time together was over.
“Your Majesties, the portal is ready,” the guardians announced.
The King turned away and drew his sword as the pounding on the doors intensified. Against her own will, the Queen relinquished her precious bundle to the pair. The war would not wait, and the enemy would not be merciful.
With Jao Ying Saengfaa tucked safely in one of their arms, the guardians walked through the shimmering light, disappearing into the nebulous blue cloud to leave their home in the sky to protect the future of their kingdom. The portal vanished when they took their final step.
The Veil that shielded this realm from the middle world fell, allowing the trio to pass worlds, but sent a shattering sky quake through Tropos. The noise drowned out the clanging of swords and shields just beyond the palace walls. It was followed by an ear-piercing boom that rang through the realm as the Veil clicked back into place, locking all of Tropos within its boundaries.
The King stood tall beside his wife, hiding all signs of sadness. His wings gently nudged her to signal his understanding and shared pain, but as the defender of Tropos, he could not show any weakness before his enemies, emotional or otherwise.
The Queen finally arose from beside Jao Ying Saengfaa’s empty cradle. Muet and her Night Army could break past their forces at any moment. With a final look at the space where the portal once stood, she retrieved her krabong and summoned the strength to move forward. The Queen’s sacrifice would not be meaningless, and her daughter would return home one day.
Until then, the Queen would cast her pain aside to face Muet and her Night Army.
* * *
For one hundred days and one hundred nights, the battle raged on.
At the center of the Night Army’s stronghold, Muet gazed into a pocket mirror. News of Jao Ying Saengfaa’s loss had spread through the kingdom, yet deep in Muet’s soul, she believed the palace lied about the newborn princess’s death.
Muet anxiously watched as the image of a lone red maple tree shone in the mirror. The vision widened and twisted to pan around the foreign yard, its ground covered in grass instead of clouds. She focused on the single red leaf that fell from the tree, gliding down and dancing with the breeze.
It swirled away, pretending to escape in a well-choreographed routine before landing in the palm of a tiny, patient hand. Gently grasping at the stem, the baby’s hand shook the leaf and tossed it back in the air to begin its playful escape again. Muet tried to understand the scenes in her mirror, but frustration ran through her body.
Before she could slam the pocket mirror shut, a flash of shimmering light caught her attention. A single ray of sunlight reflecting off the baby’s hand brought the vindictive villainess to her knees. Her hope for victory was renewed, fixated on the future etched on the back of the unknowing toddler’s hands.
A devilish smile graced Muet’s face as she snapped the mirror shut. She tried to contain her giggle, but it grew into a chuckle and then blossomed into a soul-piercing cackle. Her laughter oozed with hate and vengeance that was heard across the Night Army’s stronghold, sending terror through the hearts of her soldiers.
Muet’s plan for domination was born, and no one would be safe from her wrath.