A Spark Between Worlds
The morning sun spilled across Aurora's cottage, painting the wooden walls in gold. Birds sang outside, their melody soft, as though the world itself did not wish to disturb the man who lay asleep in her bed.
Aurora had spent most of the night tending to him, her hands glowing faintly each time she touched his wounds. She felt drained, but she could not bring herself to leave his side. The stranger was mysterious—dangerous, perhaps—but something about him stirred a pull deep inside her heart, a recognition she could not explain.
As the light grew brighter, the man stirred. His eyes opened slowly, revealing irises as dark as midnight, flecked with silver as though stars had taken root within them. He blinked, confused, his gaze settling on her.
"Where am I?" His voice was rough, quiet, but steady.
"You're in Elaria," Aurora answered gently. "A village beyond the mountains. You collapsed near the forest's edge. I… brought you here."
He sat up too quickly, grimacing in pain as his hand went to his bandaged shoulder. Aurora reached to steady him, but he brushed her hand away with a sharp movement. His pride, she realized, weighed heavier than his wound.
"You should rest," she said firmly. "The fever nearly consumed you. If I hadn't found you—"
"You shouldn't have," he interrupted, his tone guarded. "You don't know what danger you've brought to your door."
Aurora frowned. "Danger? From what? The shadows that haunt the forest?"
His eyes narrowed. "You've seen them?"
She hesitated. "No. Only in whispers. But… last night, I thought I saw something moving in the mist. Dark shapes. They weren't human."
He looked away, jaw tightening. "They're hunting me. They won't stop until…" His voice trailed off, as though the rest was a secret too heavy to share.
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Aurora studied him—his sharp features, his noble bearing, the way he carried himself even while weakened. He was no ordinary traveler.
"What is your name?" she asked quietly.
His eyes flicked back to hers, uncertain. After a pause, he said, "Kael."
Aurora let the name linger on her tongue. Strong, unfamiliar, yet it fit him like a sword fits its sheath. "Kael," she repeated softly. "Well, Kael, whether you like it or not, you need healing. And I'm not about to let someone die on my doorstep."
For the first time, something flickered across his face—not suspicion, but surprise. As if kindness was rarer than gold in the world he came from.
Aurora rose to prepare herbs, crushing them into a paste and placing them over his wound. Her hands glowed faintly again, the silver light weaving into his skin. Kael hissed at the sting but said nothing, watching her with eyes that seemed to search for answers.
"How… are you doing that?" he asked finally.
Aurora glanced at her hands. "I don't know. I've always been able to heal. The villagers think it's a gift from the stars."
Kael's gaze deepened, as though her words confirmed something he already suspected. He did not speak further, but the tension in his shoulders eased.
As the day passed, Kael's strength returned little by little. Aurora offered him food—fresh bread, berries, and broth. At first, he refused, but hunger soon defeated pride. She smiled faintly as she watched him eat, the hardened edge in his expression softening for just a breath.
That evening, Aurora took him outside for air. The village was quiet now, children chasing fireflies while elders lit small lanterns. Kael's eyes widened as he looked around.
"This place," he murmured. "It's hidden. Untouched."
Aurora tilted her head. "You say that as though it's strange."
"It is," Kael replied. "There are no villages like this in the outside world anymore. Not since the war."
"The war?" Aurora echoed, but he did not answer. His gaze was distant, shadowed by memories.
They sat in silence, the night settling softly around them. A firefly drifted close, glowing like a tiny star. Without thinking, Aurora cupped her hands and let it land gently in her palm. Kael watched, something unreadable in his eyes.
"You're not like others," he said at last.
Aurora laughed lightly, though there was a tremor in it. "Everyone says that. I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse."
Kael's eyes lingered on her glowing hands, then on her face. "It may be both."
Their gazes locked, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. The sounds of the village faded, the night grew quiet, and only the flicker of light between them remained. Aurora's heart raced, and she felt it again—the strange pull, as though destiny itself had tied a thread between them.
Neither spoke. But both knew, even without words, that something had begun that could not be undone.
Far beyond the mist, shadows stirred once more. The beasts who hunted Kael gathered in silence, their hollow eyes fixed toward Elaria. A voice whispered through the darkness, cold and cruel.
"Find him. Bring me the prince. And destroy the one who heals."
A Spark Between Worlds
The morning sun spilled across Aurora's cottage, painting the wooden walls in gold. Birds sang outside, their melody soft, as though the world itself did not wish to disturb the man who lay asleep in her bed.
Aurora had spent most of the night tending to him, her hands glowing faintly each time she touched his wounds. She felt drained, but she could not bring herself to leave his side. The stranger was mysterious—dangerous, perhaps—but something about him stirred a pull deep inside her heart, a recognition she could not explain.
As the light grew brighter, the man stirred. His eyes opened slowly, revealing irises as dark as midnight, flecked with silver as though stars had taken root within them. He blinked, confused, his gaze settling on her.
"Where am I?" His voice was rough, quiet, but steady.
"You're in Elaria," Aurora answered gently. "A village beyond the mountains. You collapsed near the forest's edge. I… brought you here."
He sat up too quickly, grimacing in pain as his hand went to his bandaged shoulder. Aurora reached to steady him, but he brushed her hand away with a sharp movement. His pride, she realized, weighed heavier than his wound.
"You should rest," she said firmly. "The fever nearly consumed you. If I hadn't found you—"
"You shouldn't have," he interrupted, his tone guarded. "You don't know what danger you've brought to your door."
Aurora frowned. "Danger? From what? The shadows that haunt the forest?"
His eyes narrowed. "You've seen them?"
She hesitated. "No. Only in whispers. But… last night, I thought I saw something moving in the mist. Dark shapes. They weren't human."
He looked away, jaw tightening. "They're hunting me. They won't stop until…" His voice trailed off, as though the rest was a secret too heavy to share.
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Aurora studied him—his sharp features, his noble bearing, the way he carried himself even while weakened. He was no ordinary traveler.
"What is your name?" she asked quietly.
His eyes flicked back to hers, uncertain. After a pause, he said, "Kael."
Aurora let the name linger on her tongue. Strong, unfamiliar, yet it fit him like a sword fits its sheath. "Kael," she repeated softly. "Well, Kael, whether you like it or not, you need healing. And I'm not about to let someone die on my doorstep."
For the first time, something flickered across his face—not suspicion, but surprise. As if kindness was rarer than gold in the world he came from.
Aurora rose to prepare herbs, crushing them into a paste and placing them over his wound. Her hands glowed faintly again, the silver light weaving into his skin. Kael hissed at the sting but said nothing, watching her with eyes that seemed to search for answers.
"How… are you doing that?" he asked finally.
Aurora glanced at her hands. "I don't know. I've always been able to heal. The villagers think it's a gift from the stars."
Kael's gaze deepened, as though her words confirmed something he already suspected. He did not speak further, but the tension in his shoulders eased.
As the day passed, Kael's strength returned little by little. Aurora offered him food—fresh bread, berries, and broth. At first, he refused, but hunger soon defeated pride. She smiled faintly as she watched him eat, the hardened edge in his expression softening for just a breath.
That evening, Aurora took him outside for air. The village was quiet now, children chasing fireflies while elders lit small lanterns. Kael's eyes widened as he looked around.
"This place," he murmured. "It's hidden. Untouched."
Aurora tilted her head. "You say that as though it's strange."
"It is," Kael replied. "There are no villages like this in the outside world anymore. Not since the war."
"The war?" Aurora echoed, but he did not answer. His gaze was distant, shadowed by memories.
They sat in silence, the night settling softly around them. A firefly drifted close, glowing like a tiny star. Without thinking, Aurora cupped her hands and let it land gently in her palm. Kael watched, something unreadable in his eyes.
"You're not like others," he said at last.
Aurora laughed lightly, though there was a tremor in it. "Everyone says that. I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse."
Kael's eyes lingered on her glowing hands, then on her face. "It may be both."
Their gazes locked, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. The sounds of the village faded, the night grew quiet, and only the flicker of light between them remained. Aurora's heart raced, and she felt it again—the strange pull, as though destiny itself had tied a thread between them.
Neither spoke. But both knew, even without words, that something had begun that could not be undone.
Far beyond the mist, shadows stirred once more. The beasts who hunted Kael gathered in silence, their hollow eyes fixed toward Elaria. A voice whispered through the darkness, cold and cruel.
"Find him. Bring me the prince. And destroy the one who heals."
A Spark Between Worlds
The morning sun spilled across Aurora's cottage, painting the wooden walls in gold. Birds sang outside, their melody soft, as though the world itself did not wish to disturb the man who lay asleep in her bed.
Aurora had spent most of the night tending to him, her hands glowing faintly each time she touched his wounds. She felt drained, but she could not bring herself to leave his side. The stranger was mysterious—dangerous, perhaps—but something about him stirred a pull deep inside her heart, a recognition she could not explain.
As the light grew brighter, the man stirred. His eyes opened slowly, revealing irises as dark as midnight, flecked with silver as though stars had taken root within them. He blinked, confused, his gaze settling on her.
"Where am I?" His voice was rough, quiet, but steady.
"You're in Elaria," Aurora answered gently. "A village beyond the mountains. You collapsed near the forest's edge. I… brought you here."
He sat up too quickly, grimacing in pain as his hand went to his bandaged shoulder. Aurora reached to steady him, but he brushed her hand away with a sharp movement. His pride, she realized, weighed heavier than his wound.
"You should rest," she said firmly. "The fever nearly consumed you. If I hadn't found you—"
"You shouldn't have," he interrupted, his tone guarded. "You don't know what danger you've brought to your door."
Aurora frowned. "Danger? From what? The shadows that haunt the forest?"
His eyes narrowed. "You've seen them?"
She hesitated. "No. Only in whispers. But… last night, I thought I saw something moving in the mist. Dark shapes. They weren't human."
He looked away, jaw tightening. "They're hunting me. They won't stop until…" His voice trailed off, as though the rest was a secret too heavy to share.
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Aurora studied him—his sharp features, his noble bearing, the way he carried himself even while weakened. He was no ordinary traveler.
"What is your name?" she asked quietly.
His eyes flicked back to hers, uncertain. After a pause, he said, "Kael."
Aurora let the name linger on her tongue. Strong, unfamiliar, yet it fit him like a sword fits its sheath. "Kael," she repeated softly. "Well, Kael, whether you like it or not, you need healing. And I'm not about to let someone die on my doorstep."
For the first time, something flickered across his face—not suspicion, but surprise. As if kindness was rarer than gold in the world he came from.
Aurora rose to prepare herbs, crushing them into a paste and placing them over his wound. Her hands glowed faintly again, the silver light weaving into his skin. Kael hissed at the sting but said nothing, watching her with eyes that seemed to search for answers.
"How… are you doing that?" he asked finally.
Aurora glanced at her hands. "I don't know. I've always been able to heal. The villagers think it's a gift from the stars."
Kael's gaze deepened, as though her words confirmed something he already suspected. He did not speak further, but the tension in his shoulders eased.
As the day passed, Kael's strength returned little by little. Aurora offered him food—fresh bread, berries, and broth. At first, he refused, but hunger soon defeated pride. She smiled faintly as she watched him eat, the hardened edge in his expression softening for just a breath.
That evening, Aurora took him outside for air. The village was quiet now, children chasing fireflies while elders lit small lanterns. Kael's eyes widened as he looked around.
"This place," he murmured. "It's hidden. Untouched."
Aurora tilted her head. "You say that as though it's strange."
"It is," Kael replied. "There are no villages like this in the outside world anymore. Not since the war."
"The war?" Aurora echoed, but he did not answer. His gaze was distant, shadowed by memories.
They sat in silence, the night settling softly around them. A firefly drifted close, glowing like a tiny star. Without thinking, Aurora cupped her hands and let it land gently in her palm. Kael watched, something unreadable in his eyes.
"You're not like others," he said at last.
Aurora laughed lightly, though there was a tremor in it. "Everyone says that. I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse."
Kael's eyes lingered on her glowing hands, then on her face. "It may be both."
Their gazes locked, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. The sounds of the village faded, the night grew quiet, and only the flicker of light between them remained. Aurora's heart raced, and she felt it again—the strange pull, as though destiny itself had tied a thread between them.
Neither spoke. But both knew, even without words, that something had begun that could not be undone.
Far beyond the mist, shadows stirred once more. The beasts who hunted Kael gathered in silence, their hollow eyes fixed toward Elaria. A voice whispered through the darkness, cold and cruel.
"Find him. Bring me the prince. And destroy the one who heals."
A Spark Between Worlds
The morning sun spilled across Aurora's cottage, painting the wooden walls in gold. Birds sang outside, their melody soft, as though the world itself did not wish to disturb the man who lay asleep in her bed.
Aurora had spent most of the night tending to him, her hands glowing faintly each time she touched his wounds. She felt drained, but she could not bring herself to leave his side. The stranger was mysterious—dangerous, perhaps—but something about him stirred a pull deep inside her heart, a recognition she could not explain.
As the light grew brighter, the man stirred. His eyes opened slowly, revealing irises as dark as midnight, flecked with silver as though stars had taken root within them. He blinked, confused, his gaze settling on her.
"Where am I?" His voice was rough, quiet, but steady.
"You're in Elaria," Aurora answered gently. "A village beyond the mountains. You collapsed near the forest's edge. I… brought you here."
He sat up too quickly, grimacing in pain as his hand went to his bandaged shoulder. Aurora reached to steady him, but he brushed her hand away with a sharp movement. His pride, she realized, weighed heavier than his wound.
"You should rest," she said firmly. "The fever nearly consumed you. If I hadn't found you—"
"You shouldn't have," he interrupted, his tone guarded. "You don't know what danger you've brought to your door."
Aurora frowned. "Danger? From what? The shadows that haunt the forest?"
His eyes narrowed. "You've seen them?"
She hesitated. "No. Only in whispers. But… last night, I thought I saw something moving in the mist. Dark shapes. They weren't human."
He looked away, jaw tightening. "They're hunting me. They won't stop until…" His voice trailed off, as though the rest was a secret too heavy to share.
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Aurora studied him—his sharp features, his noble bearing, the way he carried himself even while weakened. He was no ordinary traveler.
"What is your name?" she asked quietly.
His eyes flicked back to hers, uncertain. After a pause, he said, "Kael."
Aurora let the name linger on her tongue. Strong, unfamiliar, yet it fit him like a sword fits its sheath. "Kael," she repeated softly. "Well, Kael, whether you like it or not, you need healing. And I'm not about to let someone die on my doorstep."
For the first time, something flickered across his face—not suspicion, but surprise. As if kindness was rarer than gold in the world he came from.
Aurora rose to prepare herbs, crushing them into a paste and placing them over his wound. Her hands glowed faintly again, the silver light weaving into his skin. Kael hissed at the sting but said nothing, watching her with eyes that seemed to search for answers.
"How… are you doing that?" he asked finally.
Aurora glanced at her hands. "I don't know. I've always been able to heal. The villagers think it's a gift from the stars."
Kael's gaze deepened, as though her words confirmed something he already suspected. He did not speak further, but the tension in his shoulders eased.
As the day passed, Kael's strength returned little by little. Aurora offered him food—fresh bread, berries, and broth. At first, he refused, but hunger soon defeated pride. She smiled faintly as she watched him eat, the hardened edge in his expression softening for just a breath.
That evening, Aurora took him outside for air. The village was quiet now, children chasing fireflies while elders lit small lanterns. Kael's eyes widened as he looked around.
"This place," he murmured. "It's hidden. Untouched."
Aurora tilted her head. "You say that as though it's strange."
"It is," Kael replied. "There are no villages like this in the outside world anymore. Not since the war."
"The war?" Aurora echoed, but he did not answer. His gaze was distant, shadowed by memories.
They sat in silence, the night settling softly around them. A firefly drifted close, glowing like a tiny star. Without thinking, Aurora cupped her hands and let it land gently in her palm. Kael watched, something unreadable in his eyes.
"You're not like others," he said at last.
Aurora laughed lightly, though there was a tremor in it. "Everyone says that. I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse."
Kael's eyes lingered on her glowing hands, then on her face. "It may be both."
Their gazes locked, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. The sounds of the village faded, the night grew quiet, and only the flicker of light between them remained. Aurora's heart raced, and she felt it again—the strange pull, as though destiny itself had tied a thread between them.
Neither spoke. But both knew, even without words, that something had begun that could not be undone.
Far beyond the mist, shadows stirred once more. The beasts who hunted Kael gathered in silence, their hollow eyes fixed toward Elaria. A voice whispered through the darkness, cold and cruel.
"Find him. Bring me the prince. And destroy the one who heals."
A Spark Between Worlds
The morning sun spilled across Aurora's cottage, painting the wooden walls in gold. Birds sang outside, their melody soft, as though the world itself did not wish to disturb the man who lay asleep in her bed.
Aurora had spent most of the night tending to him, her hands glowing faintly each time she touched his wounds. She felt drained, but she could not bring herself to leave his side. The stranger was mysterious—dangerous, perhaps—but something about him stirred a pull deep inside her heart, a recognition she could not explain.
As the light grew brighter, the man stirred. His eyes opened slowly, revealing irises as dark as midnight, flecked with silver as though stars had taken root within them. He blinked, confused, his gaze settling on her.
"Where am I?" His voice was rough, quiet, but steady.
"You're in Elaria," Aurora answered gently. "A village beyond the mountains. You collapsed near the forest's edge. I… brought you here."
He sat up too quickly, grimacing in pain as his hand went to his bandaged shoulder. Aurora reached to steady him, but he brushed her hand away with a sharp movement. His pride, she realized, weighed heavier than his wound.
"You should rest," she said firmly. "The fever nearly consumed you. If I hadn't found you—"
"You shouldn't have," he interrupted, his tone guarded. "You don't know what danger you've brought to your door."
Aurora frowned. "Danger? From what? The shadows that haunt the forest?"
His eyes narrowed. "You've seen them?"
She hesitated. "No. Only in whispers. But… last night, I thought I saw something moving in the mist. Dark shapes. They weren't human."
He looked away, jaw tightening. "They're hunting me. They won't stop until…" His voice trailed off, as though the rest was a secret too heavy to share.
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Aurora studied him—his sharp features, his noble bearing, the way he carried himself even while weakened. He was no ordinary traveler.
"What is your name?" she asked quietly.
His eyes flicked back to hers, uncertain. After a pause, he said, "Kael."
Aurora let the name linger on her tongue. Strong, unfamiliar, yet it fit him like a sword fits its sheath. "Kael," she repeated softly. "Well, Kael, whether you like it or not, you need healing. And I'm not about to let someone die on my doorstep."
For the first time, something flickered across his face—not suspicion, but surprise. As if kindness was rarer than gold in the world he came from.
Aurora rose to prepare herbs, crushing them into a paste and placing them over his wound. Her hands glowed faintly again, the silver light weaving into his skin. Kael hissed at the sting but said nothing, watching her with eyes that seemed to search for answers.
"How… are you doing that?" he asked finally.
Aurora glanced at her hands. "I don't know. I've always been able to heal. The villagers think it's a gift from the stars."
Kael's gaze deepened, as though her words confirmed something he already suspected. He did not speak further, but the tension in his shoulders eased.
As the day passed, Kael's strength returned little by little. Aurora offered him food—fresh bread, berries, and broth. At first, he refused, but hunger soon defeated pride. She smiled faintly as she watched him eat, the hardened edge in his expression softening for just a breath.
That evening, Aurora took him outside for air. The village was quiet now, children chasing fireflies while elders lit small lanterns. Kael's eyes widened as he looked around.
"This place," he murmured. "It's hidden. Untouched."
Aurora tilted her head. "You say that as though it's strange."
"It is," Kael replied. "There are no villages like this in the outside world anymore. Not since the war."
"The war?" Aurora echoed, but he did not answer. His gaze was distant, shadowed by memories.
They sat in silence, the night settling softly around them. A firefly drifted close, glowing like a tiny star. Without thinking, Aurora cupped her hands and let it land gently in her palm. Kael watched, something unreadable in his eyes.
"You're not like others," he said at last.
Aurora laughed lightly, though there was a tremor in it. "Everyone says that. I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse."
Kael's eyes lingered on her glowing hands, then on her face. "It may be both."
Their gazes locked, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. The sounds of the village faded, the night grew quiet, and only the flicker of light between them remained. Aurora's heart raced, and she felt it again—the strange pull, as though destiny itself had tied a thread between them.
Neither spoke. But both knew, even without words, that something had begun that could not be undone.
Far beyond the mist, shadows stirred once more. The beasts who hunted Kael gathered in silence, their hollow eyes fixed toward Elaria. A voice whispered through the darkness, cold and cruel.
"Find him. Bring me the prince. And destroy the one who heals."
A Spark Between Worlds
The morning sun spilled across Aurora's cottage, painting the wooden walls in gold. Birds sang outside, their melody soft, as though the world itself did not wish to disturb the man who lay asleep in her bed.
Aurora had spent most of the night tending to him, her hands glowing faintly each time she touched his wounds. She felt drained, but she could not bring herself to leave his side. The stranger was mysterious—dangerous, perhaps—but something about him stirred a pull deep inside her heart, a recognition she could not explain.
As the light grew brighter, the man stirred. His eyes opened slowly, revealing irises as dark as midnight, flecked with silver as though stars had taken root within them. He blinked, confused, his gaze settling on her.
"Where am I?" His voice was rough, quiet, but steady.
"You're in Elaria," Aurora answered gently. "A village beyond the mountains. You collapsed near the forest's edge. I… brought you here."
He sat up too quickly, grimacing in pain as his hand went to his bandaged shoulder. Aurora reached to steady him, but he brushed her hand away with a sharp movement. His pride, she realized, weighed heavier than his wound.
"You should rest," she said firmly. "The fever nearly consumed you. If I hadn't found you—"
"You shouldn't have," he interrupted, his tone guarded. "You don't know what danger you've brought to your door."
Aurora frowned. "Danger? From what? The shadows that haunt the forest?"
His eyes narrowed. "You've seen them?"
She hesitated. "No. Only in whispers. But… last night, I thought I saw something moving in the mist. Dark shapes. They weren't human."
He looked away, jaw tightening. "They're hunting me. They won't stop until…" His voice trailed off, as though the rest was a secret too heavy to share.
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Aurora studied him—his sharp features, his noble bearing, the way he carried himself even while weakened. He was no ordinary traveler.
"What is your name?" she asked quietly.
His eyes flicked back to hers, uncertain. After a pause, he said, "Kael."
Aurora let the name linger on her tongue. Strong, unfamiliar, yet it fit him like a sword fits its sheath. "Kael," she repeated softly. "Well, Kael, whether you like it or not, you need healing. And I'm not about to let someone die on my doorstep."
For the first time, something flickered across his face—not suspicion, but surprise. As if kindness was rarer than gold in the world he came from.
Aurora rose to prepare herbs, crushing them into a paste and placing them over his wound. Her hands glowed faintly again, the silver light weaving into his skin. Kael hissed at the sting but said nothing, watching her with eyes that seemed to search for answers.
"How… are you doing that?" he asked finally.
Aurora glanced at her hands. "I don't know. I've always been able to heal. The villagers think it's a gift from the stars."
Kael's gaze deepened, as though her words confirmed something he already suspected. He did not speak further, but the tension in his shoulders eased.
As the day passed, Kael's strength returned little by little. Aurora offered him food—fresh bread, berries, and broth. At first, he refused, but hunger soon defeated pride. She smiled faintly as she watched him eat, the hardened edge in his expression softening for just a breath.
That evening, Aurora took him outside for air. The village was quiet now, children chasing fireflies while elders lit small lanterns. Kael's eyes widened as he looked around.
"This place," he murmured. "It's hidden. Untouched."
Aurora tilted her head. "You say that as though it's strange."
"It is," Kael replied. "There are no villages like this in the outside world anymore. Not since the war."
"The war?" Aurora echoed, but he did not answer. His gaze was distant, shadowed by memories.
They sat in silence, the night settling softly around them. A firefly drifted close, glowing like a tiny star. Without thinking, Aurora cupped her hands and let it land gently in her palm. Kael watched, something unreadable in his eyes.
"You're not like others," he said at last.
Aurora laughed lightly, though there was a tremor in it. "Everyone says that. I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse."
Kael's eyes lingered on her glowing hands, then on her face. "It may be both."
Their gazes locked, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. The sounds of the village faded, the night grew quiet, and only the flicker of light between them remained. Aurora's heart raced, and she felt it again—the strange pull, as though destiny itself had tied a thread between them.
Neither spoke. But both knew, even without words, that something had begun that could not be undone.
Far beyond the mist, shadows stirred once more. The beasts who hunted Kael gathered in silence, their hollow eyes fixed toward Elaria. A voice whispered through the darkness, cold and cruel.
"Find him. Bring me the prince. And destroy the one who heals."
A Spark Between Worlds
The morning sun spilled across Aurora's cottage, painting the wooden walls in gold. Birds sang outside, their melody soft, as though the world itself did not wish to disturb the man who lay asleep in her bed.
Aurora had spent most of the night tending to him, her hands glowing faintly each time she touched his wounds. She felt drained, but she could not bring herself to leave his side. The stranger was mysterious—dangerous, perhaps—but something about him stirred a pull deep inside her heart, a recognition she could not explain.
As the light grew brighter, the man stirred. His eyes opened slowly, revealing irises as dark as midnight, flecked with silver as though stars had taken root within them. He blinked, confused, his gaze settling on her.
"Where am I?" His voice was rough, quiet, but steady.
"You're in Elaria," Aurora answered gently. "A village beyond the mountains. You collapsed near the forest's edge. I… brought you here."
He sat up too quickly, grimacing in pain as his hand went to his bandaged shoulder. Aurora reached to steady him, but he brushed her hand away with a sharp movement. His pride, she realized, weighed heavier than his wound.
"You should rest," she said firmly. "The fever nearly consumed you. If I hadn't found you—"
"You shouldn't have," he interrupted, his tone guarded. "You don't know what danger you've brought to your door."
Aurora frowned. "Danger? From what? The shadows that haunt the forest?"
His eyes narrowed. "You've seen them?"
She hesitated. "No. Only in whispers. But… last night, I thought I saw something moving in the mist. Dark shapes. They weren't human."
He looked away, jaw tightening. "They're hunting me. They won't stop until…" His voice trailed off, as though the rest was a secret too heavy to share.
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Aurora studied him—his sharp features, his noble bearing, the way he carried himself even while weakened. He was no ordinary traveler.
"What is your name?" she asked quietly.
His eyes flicked back to hers, uncertain. After a pause, he said, "Kael."
Aurora let the name linger on her tongue. Strong, unfamiliar, yet it fit him like a sword fits its sheath. "Kael," she repeated softly. "Well, Kael, whether you like it or not, you need healing. And I'm not about to let someone die on my doorstep."
For the first time, something flickered across his face—not suspicion, but surprise. As if kindness was rarer than gold in the world he came from.
Aurora rose to prepare herbs, crushing them into a paste and placing them over his wound. Her hands glowed faintly again, the silver light weaving into his skin. Kael hissed at the sting but said nothing, watching her with eyes that seemed to search for answers.
"How… are you doing that?" he asked finally.
Aurora glanced at her hands. "I don't know. I've always been able to heal. The villagers think it's a gift from the stars."
Kael's gaze deepened, as though her words confirmed something he already suspected. He did not speak further, but the tension in his shoulders eased.
As the day passed, Kael's strength returned little by little. Aurora offered him food—fresh bread, berries, and broth. At first, he refused, but hunger soon defeated pride. She smiled faintly as she watched him eat, the hardened edge in his expression softening for just a breath.
That evening, Aurora took him outside for air. The village was quiet now, children chasing fireflies while elders lit small lanterns. Kael's eyes widened as he looked around.
"This place," he murmured. "It's hidden. Untouched."
Aurora tilted her head. "You say that as though it's strange."
"It is," Kael replied. "There are no villages like this in the outside world anymore. Not since the war."
"The war?" Aurora echoed, but he did not answer. His gaze was distant, shadowed by memories.
They sat in silence, the night settling softly around them. A firefly drifted close, glowing like a tiny star. Without thinking, Aurora cupped her hands and let it land gently in her palm. Kael watched, something unreadable in his eyes.
"You're not like others," he said at last.
Aurora laughed lightly, though there was a tremor in it. "Everyone says that. I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse."
Kael's eyes lingered on her glowing hands, then on her face. "It may be both."
Their gazes locked, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. The sounds of the village faded, the night grew quiet, and only the flicker of light between them remained. Aurora's heart raced, and she felt it again—the strange pull, as though destiny itself had tied a thread between them.
Neither spoke. But both knew, even without words, that something had begun that could not be undone.
Far beyond the mist, shadows stirred once more. The beasts who hunted Kael gathered in silence, their hollow eyes fixed toward Elaria. A voice whispered through the darkness, cold and cruel.
"Find him. Bring me the prince. And destroy the one who heals."
A Spark Between Worlds
The morning sun spilled across Aurora's cottage, painting the wooden walls in gold. Birds sang outside, their melody soft, as though the world itself did not wish to disturb the man who lay asleep in her bed.
Aurora had spent most of the night tending to him, her hands glowing faintly each time she touched his wounds. She felt drained, but she could not bring herself to leave his side. The stranger was mysterious—dangerous, perhaps—but something about him stirred a pull deep inside her heart, a recognition she could not explain.
As the light grew brighter, the man stirred. His eyes opened slowly, revealing irises as dark as midnight, flecked with silver as though stars had taken root within them. He blinked, confused, his gaze settling on her.
"Where am I?" His voice was rough, quiet, but steady.
"You're in Elaria," Aurora answered gently. "A village beyond the mountains. You collapsed near the forest's edge. I… brought you here."
He sat up too quickly, grimacing in pain as his hand went to his bandaged shoulder. Aurora reached to steady him, but he brushed her hand away with a sharp movement. His pride, she realized, weighed heavier than his wound.
"You should rest," she said firmly. "The fever nearly consumed you. If I hadn't found you—"
"You shouldn't have," he interrupted, his tone guarded. "You don't know what danger you've brought to your door."
Aurora frowned. "Danger? From what? The shadows that haunt the forest?"
His eyes narrowed. "You've seen them?"
She hesitated. "No. Only in whispers. But… last night, I thought I saw something moving in the mist. Dark shapes. They weren't human."
He looked away, jaw tightening. "They're hunting me. They won't stop until…" His voice trailed off, as though the rest was a secret too heavy to share.
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Aurora studied him—his sharp features, his noble bearing, the way he carried himself even while weakened. He was no ordinary traveler.
"What is your name?" she asked quietly.
His eyes flicked back to hers, uncertain. After a pause, he said, "Kael."
Aurora let the name linger on her tongue. Strong, unfamiliar, yet it fit him like a sword fits its sheath. "Kael," she repeated softly. "Well, Kael, whether you like it or not, you need healing. And I'm not about to let someone die on my doorstep."
For the first time, something flickered across his face—not suspicion, but surprise. As if kindness was rarer than gold in the world he came from.
Aurora rose to prepare herbs, crushing them into a paste and placing them over his wound. Her hands glowed faintly again, the silver light weaving into his skin. Kael hissed at the sting but said nothing, watching her with eyes that seemed to search for answers.
"How… are you doing that?" he asked finally.
Aurora glanced at her hands. "I don't know. I've always been able to heal. The villagers think it's a gift from the stars."
Kael's gaze deepened, as though her words confirmed something he already suspected. He did not speak further, but the tension in his shoulders eased.
As the day passed, Kael's strength returned little by little. Aurora offered him food—fresh bread, berries, and broth. At first, he refused, but hunger soon defeated pride. She smiled faintly as she watched him eat, the hardened edge in his expression softening for just a breath.
That evening, Aurora took him outside for air. The village was quiet now, children chasing fireflies while elders lit small lanterns. Kael's eyes widened as he looked around.
"This place," he murmured. "It's hidden. Untouched."
Aurora tilted her head. "You say that as though it's strange."
"It is," Kael replied. "There are no villages like this in the outside world anymore. Not since the war."
"The war?" Aurora echoed, but he did not answer. His gaze was distant, shadowed by memories.
They sat in silence, the night settling softly around them. A firefly drifted close, glowing like a tiny star. Without thinking, Aurora cupped her hands and let it land gently in her palm. Kael watched, something unreadable in his eyes.
"You're not like others," he said at last.
Aurora laughed lightly, though there was a tremor in it. "Everyone says that. I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse."
Kael's eyes lingered on her glowing hands, then on her face. "It may be both."
Their gazes locked, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. The sounds of the village faded, the night grew quiet, and only the flicker of light between them remained. Aurora's heart raced, and she felt it again—the strange pull, as though destiny itself had tied a thread between them.
Neither spoke. But both knew, even without words, that something had begun that could not be undone.
Far beyond the mist, shadows stirred once more. The beasts who hunted Kael gathered in silence, their hollow eyes fixed toward Elaria. A voice whispered through the darkness, cold and cruel.
"Find him. Bring me the prince. And destroy the one who heals."
A Spark Between Worlds
The morning sun spilled across Aurora's cottage, painting the wooden walls in gold. Birds sang outside, their melody soft, as though the world itself did not wish to disturb the man who lay asleep in her bed.
Aurora had spent most of the night tending to him, her hands glowing faintly each time she touched his wounds. She felt drained, but she could not bring herself to leave his side. The stranger was mysterious—dangerous, perhaps—but something about him stirred a pull deep inside her heart, a recognition she could not explain.
As the light grew brighter, the man stirred. His eyes opened slowly, revealing irises as dark as midnight, flecked with silver as though stars had taken root within them. He blinked, confused, his gaze settling on her.
"Where am I?" His voice was rough, quiet, but steady.
"You're in Elaria," Aurora answered gently. "A village beyond the mountains. You collapsed near the forest's edge. I… brought you here."
He sat up too quickly, grimacing in pain as his hand went to his bandaged shoulder. Aurora reached to steady him, but he brushed her hand away with a sharp movement. His pride, she realized, weighed heavier than his wound.
"You should rest," she said firmly. "The fever nearly consumed you. If I hadn't found you—"
"You shouldn't have," he interrupted, his tone guarded. "You don't know what danger you've brought to your door."
Aurora frowned. "Danger? From what? The shadows that haunt the forest?"
His eyes narrowed. "You've seen them?"
She hesitated. "No. Only in whispers. But… last night, I thought I saw something moving in the mist. Dark shapes. They weren't human."
He looked away, jaw tightening. "They're hunting me. They won't stop until…" His voice trailed off, as though the rest was a secret too heavy to share.
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Aurora studied him—his sharp features, his noble bearing, the way he carried himself even while weakened. He was no ordinary traveler.
"What is your name?" she asked quietly.
His eyes flicked back to hers, uncertain. After a pause, he said, "Kael."
Aurora let the name linger on her tongue. Strong, unfamiliar, yet it fit him like a sword fits its sheath. "Kael," she repeated softly. "Well, Kael, whether you like it or not, you need healing. And I'm not about to let someone die on my doorstep."
For the first time, something flickered across his face—not suspicion, but surprise. As if kindness was rarer than gold in the world he came from.
Aurora rose to prepare herbs, crushing them into a paste and placing them over his wound. Her hands glowed faintly again, the silver light weaving into his skin. Kael hissed at the sting but said nothing, watching her with eyes that seemed to search for answers.
"How… are you doing that?" he asked finally.
Aurora glanced at her hands. "I don't know. I've always been able to heal. The villagers think it's a gift from the stars."
Kael's gaze deepened, as though her words confirmed something he already suspected. He did not speak further, but the tension in his shoulders eased.
As the day passed, Kael's strength returned little by little. Aurora offered him food—fresh bread, berries, and broth. At first, he refused, but hunger soon defeated pride. She smiled faintly as she watched him eat, the hardened edge in his expression softening for just a breath.
That evening, Aurora took him outside for air. The village was quiet now, children chasing fireflies while elders lit small lanterns. Kael's eyes widened as he looked around.
"This place," he murmured. "It's hidden. Untouched."
Aurora tilted her head. "You say that as though it's strange."
"It is," Kael replied. "There are no villages like this in the outside world anymore. Not since the war."
"The war?" Aurora echoed, but he did not answer. His gaze was distant, shadowed by memories.
They sat in silence, the night settling softly around them. A firefly drifted close, glowing like a tiny star. Without thinking, Aurora cupped her hands and let it land gently in her palm. Kael watched, something unreadable in his eyes.
"You're not like others," he said at last.
Aurora laughed lightly, though there was a tremor in it. "Everyone says that. I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse."
Kael's eyes lingered on her glowing hands, then on her face. "It may be both."
Their gazes locked, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. The sounds of the village faded, the night grew quiet, and only the flicker of light between them remained. Aurora's heart raced, and she felt it again—the strange pull, as though destiny itself had tied a thread between them.
Neither spoke. But both knew, even without words, that something had begun that could not be undone.
Far beyond the mist, shadows stirred once more. The beasts who hunted Kael gathered in silence, their hollow eyes fixed toward Elaria. A voice whispered through the darkness, cold and cruel.
"Find him. Bring me the prince. And destroy the one who heals."
A Spark Between Worlds
The morning sun spilled across Aurora's cottage, painting the wooden walls in gold. Birds sang outside, their melody soft, as though the world itself did not wish to disturb the man who lay asleep in her bed.
Aurora had spent most of the night tending to him, her hands glowing faintly each time she touched his wounds. She felt drained, but she could not bring herself to leave his side. The stranger was mysterious—dangerous, perhaps—but something about him stirred a pull deep inside her heart, a recognition she could not explain.
As the light grew brighter, the man stirred. His eyes opened slowly, revealing irises as dark as midnight, flecked with silver as though stars had taken root within them. He blinked, confused, his gaze settling on her.
"Where am I?" His voice was rough, quiet, but steady.
"You're in Elaria," Aurora answered gently. "A village beyond the mountains. You collapsed near the forest's edge. I… brought you here."
He sat up too quickly, grimacing in pain as his hand went to his bandaged shoulder. Aurora reached to steady him, but he brushed her hand away with a sharp movement. His pride, she realized, weighed heavier than his wound.
"You should rest," she said firmly. "The fever nearly consumed you. If I hadn't found you—"
"You shouldn't have," he interrupted, his tone guarded. "You don't know what danger you've brought to your door."
Aurora frowned. "Danger? From what? The shadows that haunt the forest?"
His eyes narrowed. "You've seen them?"
She hesitated. "No. Only in whispers. But… last night, I thought I saw something moving in the mist. Dark shapes. They weren't human."
He looked away, jaw tightening. "They're hunting me. They won't stop until…" His voice trailed off, as though the rest was a secret too heavy to share.
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Aurora studied him—his sharp features, his noble bearing, the way he carried himself even while weakened. He was no ordinary traveler.
"What is your name?" she asked quietly.
His eyes flicked back to hers, uncertain. After a pause, he said, "Kael."
Aurora let the name linger on her tongue. Strong, unfamiliar, yet it fit him like a sword fits its sheath. "Kael," she repeated softly. "Well, Kael, whether you like it or not, you need healing. And I'm not about to let someone die on my doorstep."
For the first time, something flickered across his face—not suspicion, but surprise. As if kindness was rarer than gold in the world he came from.
Aurora rose to prepare herbs, crushing them into a paste and placing them over his wound. Her hands glowed faintly again, the silver light weaving into his skin. Kael hissed at the sting but said nothing, watching her with eyes that seemed to search for answers.
"How… are you doing that?" he asked finally.
Aurora glanced at her hands. "I don't know. I've always been able to heal. The villagers think it's a gift from the stars."
Kael's gaze deepened, as though her words confirmed something he already suspected. He did not speak further, but the tension in his shoulders eased.
As the day passed, Kael's strength returned little by little. Aurora offered him food—fresh bread, berries, and broth. At first, he refused, but hunger soon defeated pride. She smiled faintly as she watched him eat, the hardened edge in his expression softening for just a breath.
That evening, Aurora took him outside for air. The village was quiet now, children chasing fireflies while elders lit small lanterns. Kael's eyes widened as he looked around.
"This place," he murmured. "It's hidden. Untouched."
Aurora tilted her head. "You say that as though it's strange."
"It is," Kael replied. "There are no villages like this in the outside world anymore. Not since the war."
"The war?" Aurora echoed, but he did not answer. His gaze was distant, shadowed by memories.
They sat in silence, the night settling softly around them. A firefly drifted close, glowing like a tiny star. Without thinking, Aurora cupped her hands and let it land gently in her palm. Kael watched, something unreadable in his eyes.
"You're not like others," he said at last.
Aurora laughed lightly, though there was a tremor in it. "Everyone says that. I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse."
Kael's eyes lingered on her glowing hands, then on her face. "It may be both."
Their gazes locked, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. The sounds of the village faded, the night grew quiet, and only the flicker of light between them remained. Aurora's heart raced, and she felt it again—the strange pull, as though destiny itself had tied a thread between them.
Neither spoke. But both knew, even without words, that something had begun that could not be undone.
Far beyond the mist, shadows stirred once more. The beasts who hunted Kael gathered in silence, their hollow eyes fixed toward Elaria. A voice whispered through the darkness, cold and cruel.
"Find him. Bring me the prince. And destroy the one who heals."
A Spark Between Worlds
The morning sun spilled across Aurora's cottage, painting the wooden walls in gold. Birds sang outside, their melody soft, as though the world itself did not wish to disturb the man who lay asleep in her bed.
Aurora had spent most of the night tending to him, her hands glowing faintly each time she touched his wounds. She felt drained, but she could not bring herself to leave his side. The stranger was mysterious—dangerous, perhaps—but something about him stirred a pull deep inside her heart, a recognition she could not explain.
As the light grew brighter, the man stirred. His eyes opened slowly, revealing irises as dark as midnight, flecked with silver as though stars had taken root within them. He blinked, confused, his gaze settling on her.
"Where am I?" His voice was rough, quiet, but steady.
"You're in Elaria," Aurora answered gently. "A village beyond the mountains. You collapsed near the forest's edge. I… brought you here."
He sat up too quickly, grimacing in pain as his hand went to his bandaged shoulder. Aurora reached to steady him, but he brushed her hand away with a sharp movement. His pride, she realized, weighed heavier than his wound.
"You should rest," she said firmly. "The fever nearly consumed you. If I hadn't found you—"
"You shouldn't have," he interrupted, his tone guarded. "You don't know what danger you've brought to your door."
Aurora frowned. "Danger? From what? The shadows that haunt the forest?"
His eyes narrowed. "You've seen them?"
She hesitated. "No. Only in whispers. But… last night, I thought I saw something moving in the mist. Dark shapes. They weren't human."
He looked away, jaw tightening. "They're hunting me. They won't stop until…" His voice trailed off, as though the rest was a secret too heavy to share.
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Aurora studied him—his sharp features, his noble bearing, the way he carried himself even while weakened. He was no ordinary traveler.
"What is your name?" she asked quietly.
His eyes flicked back to hers, uncertain. After a pause, he said, "Kael."
Aurora let the name linger on her tongue. Strong, unfamiliar, yet it fit him like a sword fits its sheath. "Kael," she repeated softly. "Well, Kael, whether you like it or not, you need healing. And I'm not about to let someone die on my doorstep."
For the first time, something flickered across his face—not suspicion, but surprise. As if kindness was rarer than gold in the world he came from.
Aurora rose to prepare herbs, crushing them into a paste and placing them over his wound. Her hands glowed faintly again, the silver light weaving into his skin. Kael hissed at the sting but said nothing, watching her with eyes that seemed to search for answers.
"How… are you doing that?" he asked finally.
Aurora glanced at her hands. "I don't know. I've always been able to heal. The villagers think it's a gift from the stars."
Kael's gaze deepened, as though her words confirmed something he already suspected. He did not speak further, but the tension in his shoulders eased.
As the day passed, Kael's strength returned little by little. Aurora offered him food—fresh bread, berries, and broth. At first, he refused, but hunger soon defeated pride. She smiled faintly as she watched him eat, the hardened edge in his expression softening for just a breath.
That evening, Aurora took him outside for air. The village was quiet now, children chasing fireflies while elders lit small lanterns. Kael's eyes widened as he looked around.
"This place," he murmured. "It's hidden. Untouched."
Aurora tilted her head. "You say that as though it's strange."
"It is," Kael replied. "There are no villages like this in the outside world anymore. Not since the war."
"The war?" Aurora echoed, but he did not answer. His gaze was distant, shadowed by memories.
They sat in silence, the night settling softly around them. A firefly drifted close, glowing like a tiny star. Without thinking, Aurora cupped her hands and let it land gently in her palm. Kael watched, something unreadable in his eyes.
"You're not like others," he said at last.
Aurora laughed lightly, though there was a tremor in it. "Everyone says that. I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse."
Kael's eyes lingered on her glowing hands, then on her face. "It may be both."
Their gazes locked, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. The sounds of the village faded, the night grew quiet, and only the flicker of light between them remained. Aurora's heart raced, and she felt it again—the strange pull, as though destiny itself had tied a thread between them.
Neither spoke. But both knew, even without words, that something had begun that could not be undone.
Far beyond the mist, shadows stirred once more. The beasts who hunted Kael gathered in silence, their hollow eyes fixed toward Elaria. A voice whispered through the darkness, cold and cruel.
"Find him. Bring me the prince. And destroy the one who heals."
A Spark Between Worlds
The morning sun spilled across Aurora's cottage, painting the wooden walls in gold. Birds sang outside, their melody soft, as though the world itself did not wish to disturb the man who lay asleep in her bed.
Aurora had spent most of the night tending to him, her hands glowing faintly each time she touched his wounds. She felt drained, but she could not bring herself to leave his side. The stranger was mysterious—dangerous, perhaps—but something about him stirred a pull deep inside her heart, a recognition she could not explain.
As the light grew brighter, the man stirred. His eyes opened slowly, revealing irises as dark as midnight, flecked with silver as though stars had taken root within them. He blinked, confused, his gaze settling on her.
"Where am I?" His voice was rough, quiet, but steady.
"You're in Elaria," Aurora answered gently. "A village beyond the mountains. You collapsed near the forest's edge. I… brought you here."
He sat up too quickly, grimacing in pain as his hand went to his bandaged shoulder. Aurora reached to steady him, but he brushed her hand away with a sharp movement. His pride, she realized, weighed heavier than his wound.
"You should rest," she said firmly. "The fever nearly consumed you. If I hadn't found you—"
"You shouldn't have," he interrupted, his tone guarded. "You don't know what danger you've brought to your door."
Aurora frowned. "Danger? From what? The shadows that haunt the forest?"
His eyes narrowed. "You've seen them?"
She hesitated. "No. Only in whispers. But… last night, I thought I saw something moving in the mist. Dark shapes. They weren't human."
He looked away, jaw tightening. "They're hunting me. They won't stop until…" His voice trailed off, as though the rest was a secret too heavy to share.
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Aurora studied him—his sharp features, his noble bearing, the way he carried himself even while weakened. He was no ordinary traveler.
"What is your name?" she asked quietly.
His eyes flicked back to hers, uncertain. After a pause, he said, "Kael."
Aurora let the name linger on her tongue. Strong, unfamiliar, yet it fit him like a sword fits its sheath. "Kael," she repeated softly. "Well, Kael, whether you like it or not, you need healing. And I'm not about to let someone die on my doorstep."
For the first time, something flickered across his face—not suspicion, but surprise. As if kindness was rarer than gold in the world he came from.
Aurora rose to prepare herbs, crushing them into a paste and placing them over his wound. Her hands glowed faintly again, the silver light weaving into his skin. Kael hissed at the sting but said nothing, watching her with eyes that seemed to search for answers.
"How… are you doing that?" he asked finally.
Aurora glanced at her hands. "I don't know. I've always been able to heal. The villagers think it's a gift from the stars."
Kael's gaze deepened, as though her words confirmed something he already suspected. He did not speak further, but the tension in his shoulders eased.
As the day passed, Kael's strength returned little by little. Aurora offered him food—fresh bread, berries, and broth. At first, he refused, but hunger soon defeated pride. She smiled faintly as she watched him eat, the hardened edge in his expression softening for just a breath.
That evening, Aurora took him outside for air. The village was quiet now, children chasing fireflies while elders lit small lanterns. Kael's eyes widened as he looked around.
"This place," he murmured. "It's hidden. Untouched."
Aurora tilted her head. "You say that as though it's strange."
"It is," Kael replied. "There are no villages like this in the outside world anymore. Not since the war."
"The war?" Aurora echoed, but he did not answer. His gaze was distant, shadowed by memories.
They sat in silence, the night settling softly around them. A firefly drifted close, glowing like a tiny star. Without thinking, Aurora cupped her hands and let it land gently in her palm. Kael watched, something unreadable in his eyes.
"You're not like others," he said at last.
Aurora laughed lightly, though there was a tremor in it. "Everyone says that. I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse."
Kael's eyes lingered on her glowing hands, then on her face. "It may be both."
Their gazes locked, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. The sounds of the village faded, the night grew quiet, and only the flicker of light between them remained. Aurora's heart raced, and she felt it again—the strange pull, as though destiny itself had tied a thread between them.
Neither spoke. But both knew, even without words, that something had begun that could not be undone.
Far beyond the mist, shadows stirred once more. The beasts who hunted Kael gathered in silence, their hollow eyes fixed toward Elaria. A voice whispered through the darkness, cold and cruel.
"Find him. Bring me the prince. And destroy the one who heals."