The path was blanketed in golden leaves that crunched under Verina's feet as she walked through the quiet field. The sun hung low, casting a warm glow over the landscape, making everything appear touched by fire and memories. She understood now why her mother had loved autumn—why she had always spoken of it as the season of beauty, of endings that brought new beginnings.
At the far end of the field, the oak tree stood tall, its branches spreading wide over her mother's grave, a gentle shelter for the one she had loved most. She knelt, brushing aside the fallen leaves, and placed a small bundle of freshly picked flowers at the base of the stone, her fingers traced the edges of the headstone, the familiar inscription almost like her mother's voice: *Elara, Beloved Mother, Dreamer of the Stars.*
"Hello, Mother," she whispered, her voice breaking the stillness. "I finally understand why you loved this time of year. This place… it's beautiful, just like you said. And… It feels like you're here."
A slight breeze lifted the leaves around her, and for a moment, Verina closed her eyes, imagining her mother's presence beside her, gentle and comforting. The words she'd kept buried began to spill out, raw and quiet.
"I remember those evenings we spent here," she began, her heart aching with nostalgia. "You'd tell me stories about the stars, how each one held a memory of someone you loved. You'd point up at the sky and say that every twinkle was a reminder that they were never really gone. I wish I could see them with you again."
She paused, taking a deep breath, allowing the memories to wash over her like the crisp autumn air. "Or do you remember how we used to gather acorns beneath this tree? You'd show me how to find the best ones, the ones that would make the most beautiful crafts. I always thought you were a magician, turning simple things into treasures."
Verina wiped a tear from her cheek, laughing softly at the memory. "And then there was that one time I got my dress caught in the branches while trying to reach the highest acorn. You laughed so hard, and I was so embarrassed! But you just pulled me down and hugged me, reminding me that it was okay to be a little silly sometimes."
As she spoke, Verina felt the weight of her mother's absence become a little lighter, as if her voice still echoed in the air. "But it's hard now, Mother. I want to be strong like you, but sometimes I feel so lost. If you knew the mess I have in my head right now, I don't even know if it's imagination or reality… I don't know if I can live up to what you hoped for me."
A gentle breeze rustled the leaves above her, and she imagined her mother's comforting presence, enveloping her like a warm embrace. "If only I could ask you what to do," Verina said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You always seemed to know. Did you ever feel lost, too? Or did you have it all figured out?"
For a moment, the air around her felt charged with energy, and Verina closed her eyes, longing for a response. "I wish I could hear your voice one more time. I want to know how you faced your fears. I want to know how you found happiness, even when things were hard."
Just then, a familiar voice broke through her thoughts.
"Verina?"
Startled, she turned to see Lora, her mother's oldest friend, standing nearby. Lora's silver hair caught the sunlight, and her expression softened as she approached, her gaze lingering on Verina with a mixture of pride and tenderness.
"I didn't mean to intrude," Lora said gently. "I was passing by and saw you here."
Verina wiped her cheek, giving Lora a small smile. "It's all right. I was… just talking to her. I think I understand her a little better now."
Lora nodded, her gaze moving to the oak tree and the grave beneath it. "Your mother loved this place. She used to tell me that the beauty of autumn reminded her that even in times of change, there's always something to hold onto."
Verina glanced down, a faint, wistful smile curving her lips. "She did. Even when things were falling apart, she saw the good… I wish I could be that way." Her voice softened, the vulnerability slipping out before she could stop it.
Lora laid a comforting hand on Verina's shoulder. "You have more of her strength than you think," she said quietly. "Elara worried about you growing up in this world, yet she believed you would find your way. She always said, 'Verina's heart is her own light.' And she was right."
Verina glanced up, surprised by the certainty in Lora's words. "Do you think she would be proud of me?"
"Oh, Verina, if she could see you now, she'd be more than proud—believe me. You're as strong as she was." Lora assured her, stepping closer.
A wave of warmth washed over Verina, and she felt a sense of hope swell within her. "Thank you, Lora. For being here… and for reminding me of her strength."
As Verina and Lora walked away from her mother's resting place, she cast a final glance back at the oak tree, her heart heavy yet somehow lighter. Her mother's words echoed softly in her mind—"Change brings beauty, even in endings." She felt a quiet resolve settling within her, but uncertainty still lingered like a shadow. Would her mother's strength be enough to guide her forward?
The quiet crunch of leaves underfoot anchored her in the present, and Verina let herself breathe in the crisp air, focusing on each step, grounding herself in the rhythm. But the faint sound of clashing metal broke her focus, tugging her attention toward the direction of the lake.
"What's that?" Verina asked, tilting her head towards the sound.
Lora followed her gaze. "Oh, the army. They're training by the lake. It's not far from here. Would you like to see them?"
Curiosity piqued, Verina nodded. The two walked towards the sound, the anticipation tinged with a hint of apprehension. The sun reflected off the surface of the lake, casting shimmering light that danced like fairies above the water.
As they neared the clearing, the clang of swords and soldiers' commands sliced through the quiet. Verina's steps slowed as she took in the rhythmic swing of blades and the relentless drive of men preparing for war. The air itself felt tense, charged with purpose, a contrast to the peaceful autumn fields.
Then she spotted him—a soldier among soldiers, yet somehow apart. His dark hair framed his face, and with each swing of his blade, he moved as though the weight of his family's name rested in every strike. She caught her breath, recognizing him, her pulse quickening against her will.
"Victor," she murmured, the name barely escaping her lips.
Lora noticed the shift in Verina's demeanour. "You know him?"
"I've only heard about him," Verina replied, her gaze glued to Victor as he trained with a fierce intensity.
Lora's expression turned serious. "It's rumoured that Lord Arenthis will be leading men into battle soon. His family is preparing for war."
Verina's heart sank as she processed Lora's words. "Leading men to war?"
"Yes," Lora continued, her voice heavy with concern. "The kingdom needs strong leaders, and Victor carries the name of Arenthis so it is only natural that he will be sent to war."
[What? No... So that was the reason he said that we shouldn't talk anymore.]
The determination on Victor's face was palpable, and the reality of what lay ahead began to weigh heavily on her heart. She couldn't help but wonder what it would be like for him—to be thrust into a world of conflict and danger, to lead others into the unknown.
Suddenly, Victor looked up, his gaze locking onto hers across the clearing. When their eyes met across the clearing, time seemed to freeze. The sounds of clashing metal faded, leaving only the rhythm of her heartbeat in her ears. In that brief moment, the weight of unspoken words hung heavy between them.
But just as quickly as it began, the moment shattered. Overwhelmed, Verina turned on her heel, instinctively pulling away from the weight of his gaze. "We should go," she said, her voice trembling slightly as she urged Lora to follow.
Lora hesitated, watching the exchange with keen interest. "Are you sure? He seemed to notice you."
Verina nodded, not daring to look back. "I just… I need to go home."
As they walked away, the sounds of the soldiers faded, but the weight of what lay ahead lingered in her heart—a reminder that her journey was just beginning, intertwined with the fates of others who sought their place in a world on the brink of change.
"Did you notice something, Lord Arenthis?" The soldier asked, raising a brow with a teasing smirk.
Victor blinked and snapped back to reality. "What do you mean?" He forced his voice into a casual tone, though the warmth creeping up his neck betrayed him.
The soldier's smirk widened as he nodded in the direction Verina had gone. "You were staring pretty hard at that girl."
Victor felt a flush of irritation, clenching his hand tighter around the hilt of his sword, his grip taut. "No, it's nothing. Just—" He hesitated, his gaze flicking momentarily back toward Verina's path. He caught himself, forcing his jaw to set as he searched for the right words. "I was just… surprised, that's all."
The soldier chuckled, unconvinced. "If you say so, but you looked like you were in another world. Careful, or you'll end up distracted in practice."
Victor's jaw tightened as he fought to shake the image of Verina from his mind, but the pull was stronger than he wanted to admit. He forced his focus back to his training, his knuckles white on the sword's handle, but the sensation lingered—her eyes, the weight of her gaze across the clearing, seared into his memory.
"Enough," he muttered under his breath, returning to his stance. The soldier chuckled and moved back into formation, leaving Victor to grapple with his thoughts. He gritted his teeth, focusing on his training, hoping the weight of the sword in his hand would drown out the haunting image of her eyes. Yet even as he steadied himself, he knew that brief exchange was not something he could easily ignore. Her presence unsettled him, a feeling he both resented and… couldn't quite ignore. [Why does she haunt me like this?] he thought, knowing he already feared the answer.
Should he meet her?