Isolde
My name is Isolde Faelyn, and I've walked the halls of Regent Crest Academy for centuries.
Time has softened me but left its imprint in ways unseen. My appearance shifts every decade or so—new hair colors, different heights, changing speech patterns—all to mask my lingering presence. The Academy considers me an enigmatic but long-serving librarian, a relic from its earliest years. None of that matters. My duty is not to teach history but to safeguard destiny.
And yet, destiny is often cruel
Even now, as the cold evening light filters through the library's grand stained-glass windows, my heart aches. Two students sit in stark opposition in my line of sight: Venecia Eryndor and Romeo Draekhaven. Of course, these are not the first names they have carried through the centuries. In previous lives, they were, Draven and Elora, Leonhart and Evanna, Aurelia and Kael, Torin and Mira bound together by a love fierce enough to defy their warring families—and cursed because of it.
I watch them in the present. Venecia fiddles with the gilded edge of her notebook, stealing hesitant glances toward Romeo from across the library. Romeo, for his part, doesn't even pretend to focus on the textbook in front of him. His fingers tap out an uneven rhythm on the wooden table, his attention wholly fixed on the girl pretending not to notice him.
Fate is cruel indeed.
Eighteen years ago, I felt it—the universe's cruel alignment, the spark of two souls being reborn once more. The air grew heavier with every passing year as the curse gained strength. I had hoped they would avoid each other in this life, that their parents' iron-fisted feuds and strict warnings would succeed. But mortals never truly understand the inevitability of fate.
A flick of my wrist sends a quill dancing across a scroll beside me. Even now, I continue my records. The cycle must be preserved.
But today feels different. The threads of destiny hum louder, the vibrations shaking the very foundation of Regent Crest. My eyes flit toward Venecia, whose trembling fingers brush the delicate strands of hair behind her ear. Romeo watches this subtle act with laser focus, as if her very existence demands his attention.
How foolish they both look. How helpless.
The curse has activated now, I muse bitterly.
It began with the faint prickling of their shoulder marks on their eighteenth birthdays. Then, during the night of the event, when emotions ran high and their eyes locked across the chaos, it solidified. And now—just minutes ago, by the fountain—it reached its crescendo. I wasn't there, but I felt the unbearable heat surge through the world. Their curse.
This lifetime is different. Perhaps it is my fault for believing it can ever truly be undone. For every time they succumb to their love and suffer the inevitable tragedy, I am tasked with guiding them once more. The weight of their failure becomes mine as well.
They have no idea the force working against them. It is not just the rivalry of their bloodlines but something more ancient, more eternal.
This is their fifth cycle. The first ended with betrayal. The second? It ended with blood staining the castle. The third cycle also ended with betrayal from a close person. The fourth cycle ended with heartbreak.
Now, we are here. A new lifetime, a new opportunity... or the same, bitter ending.
"Librarian Faelyn?" A soft voice interrupts my thoughts. I glance up to find Venecia standing at the edge of my desk. Her voice is even, but there's a crack in her composure—a tremor in her voice that only I would detect.
"Yes, my dear?" I ask gently, leaning back in my chair as though I have all the time in the world.
"Could you recommend something?" She hesitates before clarifying, "A book about history or—perhaps mythology?"
Ah. A subconscious whisper from the curse. How appropriate.
"There's a fascinating section on interconnected souls throughout history," I reply, standing to guide her. "Though most mortals would consider them little more than tales..."
She follows me, unaware of how closely I study her every movement—the soft grip she maintains on her notebook, the way her lips quiver before words could form. The curse is suffocating her, pulling at her very essence.
I stop by a shelf and retrieve a thin volume titled Fated Ties. It's an unassuming book bound in green leather, but it contains stories that mirror their plight.
"Here," I say, handing it to her.
As Venecia accepts the book, the doors creak open. I don't have to turn to know it's Romeo. His presence fills the space almost tangibly, a combination of stormy energy and barely contained tension.
"Ah, Romeo," I greet warmly, my voice low to hide my amusement. "How fortunate. Perhaps you can help Miss Eryndor with her selection."
Venecia stiffens, the book clutched tightly to her chest. Her mark burns again, and I sense hers isn't the only one. Romeo hesitates near the entrance but moves forward slowly, his expression torn between relief and frustration.
"I'm sure she doesn't need my help," he replies, though his tone lacks conviction.
I watch the interaction silently, leaving them to navigate the weight of their connection.
Finally, as Romeo brushes past her toward the aisle of mythology, the tension reaches a fever pitch. Venecia exhales shakily, her hands trembling.
"Librarian Faelyn," she whispers after a long silence, "do you... believe that some things are meant to happen? No matter what?"
I pause, holding back a thousand truths I cannot speak aloud. Instead, I smile softly, my voice heavy with meaning.
"Fate works in mysterious ways, Miss Eryndor. Sometimes, what feels inevitable is merely the beginning of something more."
Her brows furrow, her lips parting to question me further, but I turn, disappearing between the shelves before she can. They have their part to play. And I have mine.
Soon enough, they will learn that their cursed destinies are not obstacles to overcome but keys to unlock something far greater. But for now, I leave them with the gentle push of fate and the shadow of my watchful gaze.
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