The wind whispered through the towering pines that bordered the village of Veywyn, carrying with it the scent of wild jasmine and damp earth. The night was calm, yet something unseen stirred in the air, an invisible thread pulling Belinda toward the river's edge.
She stepped out of her cottage, the wooden door creaking softly as it shut behind her. Wrapping her woolen cloak tighter around her shoulders, she inhaled the crisp night air. The full moon hung high above, a luminous sentinel in the dark sky, casting long shadows across the cobbled paths and thatched rooftops of the sleeping village.
Her heart thrummed an uneasy rhythm. The pull in her chest was stronger than ever, a strange, aching sensation that neither her healing knowledge nor her rational mind could explain. It was as if something someone, was calling to her.
The village square lay silent, save for the occasional rustling of dry leaves skittering across the ground. A stray cat slinked through the shadows, pausing briefly to watch her before disappearing into the darkness. She ignored it, her feet carrying her forward, past the marketplace stalls and down the winding dirt path that led to the river.
The air grew colder the closer she came to the water. The trees that lined the banks swayed gently, their skeletal branches reaching toward the moon as if in silent reverence. Belinda's breath curled in soft plumes before her as she knelt beside the river, her reflection rippling in the silver-lit water.
And then she saw him.
A figure stood in the reflection, tall, ethereal, and impossibly real, though no one stood beside her.
Belinda's breath hitched. Her hands trembled as she leaned closer, fingers hovering just above the surface. The stranger's face was sharp yet hauntingly beautiful, with silver-streaked hair that caught the moonlight like woven stardust. His eyes, mercurial and endless, bore into hers with an intensity that sent a shiver racing down her spine.
Her pulse pounded in her ears.
"Belinda," a voice whispered, low and reverent, as if speaking a name long forgotten.
The sound did not come from the trees, nor from the rustling leaves, nor from the quiet hush of the river. It came from him. From the reflection.
Belinda's breath faltered. A thousand unspoken emotions flickered through her chest, fear, wonder, recognition. It made no sense. And yet, as she stared into those silver eyes, she knew with a bone-deep certainty that she had seen them before.
Somewhere.
She gasped, stumbling back onto the dewy grass, her heart slamming against her ribs. The reflection wavered, but the figure remained, watching, waiting.
Belinda pressed a trembling hand to her chest, her mind racing.
Who was he? And why did it feel as if she had known him for a thousand lifetimes?