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Kael Thorne
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2025-05-25 01:55:23Elara didn’t sleep that night.
Not because she couldn't, but because something within her had been broken and remade at once. The burn on her shoulder had ceased to throb, but its echo pulsed with a second heart that beat in time with something deep within her chest.
He stood on the cabin's porch, his figure silhouetted by moonlight. The cold night air produced a subtle billowing of his coat, and he gripped in his hand something small and metallic, glinting.
A ring.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, not looking back.
She stepped out beside him, arms crossed against the chill. Didn’t want to close my eyes. Not after what I saw.”
“The visions?”
She nodded. “A woman was screaming. Fire. A throne made of bone. And me. But not me.”
Kael turned, his silver eyes softer than she expected. “You saw echoes of who you might become. The mark is your bloodline stirring awake. You’re not just remembering. You’re being remembered.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means you’re being called home.”
She didn’t answer. The wind rustled the trees like whispers from ghosts she didn’t yet know.
Kael extended the ring to her. “This belonged to your mother. She asked me to keep it hidden until we were ready.”
Elara hesitated, then took it. The moment it touched her skin, warmth pulsed through her palm, up her wrist, and straight into her chest. The crescent lines on the band shimmered briefly before settling into stillness.
“It recognizes you,” Kael said. “It’s bonded to your blood.”
“She’s really dead?” Elara asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes.” Kael’s jaw tensed. “But her oath still binds me.”
“To what?”
“To protect you. Even if it kills me.”
That startled her. “Why would she trust you with that?”
“Because I failed her once,” he said, voice tight. “I won’t fail her again.”
They stood in silence for a long time, the only sound the creaking of the trees and the distant cry of a creature that didn’t belong to the mortal world.
“I saw myself on a throne,” Elara whispered. “Wearing a crown of fire.”
Kael’s expression didn’t change. “You were born for more than exile. More than fear. You come from two lines—Moonshade and Moonstone. Your blood carries prophecy.”
“And what does this prophecy say?” she asked.
“That you’ll either save this world… or destroy it.”
No pressure then, Elara thought bitterly.
Inside the cabin, the mark on her shoulder pulsed again. She winced, fingers instinctively brushing it.
“You need to move,” Kael said suddenly.
She looked at him, startled. “What?”
“It’s starting. They’ll have seen the mark. Felt the blood magic. We don’t have much time.”
“You said we were safe here.”
“No one’s safe when the veils thin. And tonight—they’ve torn.”
Kael turned back toward the trees, pulling a key from around his neck. “We’re leaving.” Now.”
Elara followed him in a daze, her thoughts scattered. Her life in the mortal world—school, the loneliness, the small humiliations- they all felt like someone else’s memories.
In the car, Kael threw open the trunk and pulled out a leather satchel. “Food. Water. Spells, in case the roads twist.”
“Twist?” she echoed.
“This world doesn’t like its secrets revealed,” he said. “The path to Eldoria won’t open unless it wants to.”
“El-doria?”
“A realm hidden between the folds of time and space. Where your people—our people—still live. Some hiding. Some ruling. Some… hunting.”
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