The castle shimmered in the moonlight, its crystalline walls reflecting the soft glow of the enchanted torches that lined the halls. Outside, the distant song of the wind seemed to hum in harmony with the magic coursing through the ancient stones. But within Elara's room, the stillness was thick, oppressive, and laced with an unseen presence.
Elara lay tangled in her sheets, her face glistening with sweat. Her breaths were uneven, shallow, her body trapped in the throes of a nightmare.
In her dream, the shadows swirled around her like living things, cold and suffocating. A deep, echoing voice whispered her name, drawing her further into the abyss. It wasn't the comforting voice of Ephrael or the commanding tone of Aerondrion. No, this voice was chillingly familiar yet utterly foreign, like a dark lullaby that sent shivers down her spine.
"You are mine to command" said, slow and deliberate
Her surroundings shifted. She was no longer in the castle but in a dark, endless void. A towering figure loomed above her, cloaked in darkness. Two piercing yellow eyes glared down at her, brimming with malice and power. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe.
"Find me," the voice hissed, its tone both a command and a plea.
The words wrapped around her like chains, pulling her deeper into the shadows. Then, suddenly, she screamed—
—and woke up with a gasp.
Elara sat up, clutching her chest as her heart thundered in her ears. Her room was quiet, the faint crackle of the fire the only sound breaking the silence. But the nightmare clung to her, its tendrils coiling around her mind. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Unable to stay still, she slipped out of bed, pulling a shawl around her shoulders. The cold air of the castle nipped at her skin as she stepped into the hallway. The glittering walls sparkled faintly under the moonlight, their beauty strangely haunting in the stillness of the night.
Her feet moved almost on their own, carrying her through the empty corridors. She didn't know where she was going, but something—some unseen force—was guiding her. The further she walked, the more distant her thoughts became, as though she were moving in a trance.
When she turned the corner, she froze. The massive lion statue loomed before her, its intricate design even more intimidating under the dim light. Its golden eyes glimmered faintly, as though alive, watching her every move.
Elara took a hesitant step closer, her bare feet brushing against the cold stone floor. The air around her grew heavy, charged with an unfamiliar energy.
Then, the lion's eyes began to glow.
A soft, golden light radiated from them, illuminating the hallway in an eerie brilliance. Elara's breath caught as a voice whispered from the depths of her mind, faint but insistent.
"Elara," it said, the same chilling voice from her dream. "You must find me."
Her head swam, the words digging into her thoughts like hooks. She tried to resist, to turn away, but her body wouldn't listen. It was as if an invisible thread was pulling her closer to the statue.
"You are mine." the voice repeated, softer this time, almost gentle.
The light in the lion's eyes flared one last time, then faded into darkness. Elara staggered back, her vision blurring. She turned and walked away, her steps slow and mechanical, like a puppet on strings.
When she returned to her room, she climbed into bed and fell asleep instantly, her mind void of any memory of what had just transpired.
---
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the tall windows of the castle, painting the glittering walls in hues of gold and silver. Elara stirred from her sleep, her body heavy and her thoughts muddled.
She dressed quickly, her movements unusually hurried, though she couldn't explain why. There was a nagging sensation in her chest, an itch in the back of her mind that wouldn't go away.
The library.
She didn't know why, but she felt an inexplicable pull toward the library. It was as if her very soul was urging her to go, to find something she couldn't name.
The grand doors of the library creaked open, revealing rows upon rows of towering shelves filled with ancient tomes. The scent of parchment and ink filled the air, mingling with the faint hum of magic that lingered in the space.
Elara walked among the shelves, her fingers brushing against the spines of the books. She wasn't looking for anything in particular, yet she felt a strange compulsion to keep searching. Her steps quickened as she moved deeper into the library, her frustration growing.
"What am I even looking for?" she muttered to herself, her voice barely audible.
"Clearly, not intelligence."
The voice was sharp, cold, and unmistakably mocking. Elara spun around, her eyes widening as they met the golden gaze of Luceran.
He stood a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest and his expression one of barely veiled contempt. His white hair fell in silky strands around his sharp, angelic features, contrasting with his tan skin. Dressed in a long, flowing coat that shimmered faintly in the light, he exuded an aura of power and disdain.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded, his tone laced with irritation. "You don't have any lessons today."
Elara bristled at his words, her initial surprise quickly giving way to defiance. "I didn't realize I needed a schedule to step into the library" she shot back, her voice steady despite the unease his presence stirred in her.
Luceran's lips curled into a sneer. "Such boldness for someone so insignificant. Tell me, what could a fragile creature like you possibly gain from these texts? Your kind can barely comprehend the simplest spells, let alone the knowledge contained here."
Her fists clenched at her sides, anger bubbling beneath the surface. "You don't know anything about me," she said, her voice sharp.
"Oh, I know enough," he said, taking a step closer. The air around him seemed to crackle with barely restrained energy. "You're nothing more than a foolish girl meddling in matters far beyond your understanding."
Elara's chest tightened, his words cutting deeper than she wanted to admit. But she refused to let him see her falter.
Luceran raised an eyebrow, his expression one of thinly veiled disdain. "You're wandering aimlessly," he said flatly, his voice dripping with condescension. "If you're here to waste time, do it elsewhere. This library is no place for idle humans."
Elara bristled, her fists clenching at her sides. "I don't need your approval to be here," she snapped, the words sharper than she intended.
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, as though her defiance amused him. "Approval? No. Guidance? Certainly. You're hopelessly out of place in a sanctuary of knowledge like this. Do you even know what you're looking for?"
Her heart skipped a beat, his words unnervingly close to the truth. But she refused to let him see her doubt. "I don't need to explain myself to you," she said firmly, meeting his piercing gaze with her own.
Luceran's smirk faded, replaced by a look of cold irritation. "Suit yourself," he said, turning away with a dismissive flick of his coat. "Just don't let your fumbling curiosity disrupt the order here. Or the next time, I won't be so patient."
As he disappeared into the shadows of the towering shelves, Elara let out a shaky breath. Though his presence left her shaken, the fire of determination within her burned stronger. Whatever had drawn her here, she would find it—no matter what.