Elira stood at the edge of the river, her bare feet skimming the cold water, a woven basket of herbs forgotten beside her.
The late afternoon sun bathed the village in a soft golden hue, painting the wheat fields in waves of amber. Yet her thoughts were far from Aerwyn.
> "He was there again…" she whispered to no one.
Her fingers reached to brush a strand of hair from her cheek, but in her mind, they still tingled from where he had held her hand—in the dream.
Every night now.
Every single night, she met him.
Not always in the same place. Sometimes it was the white field, sometimes a marble bridge in the clouds, once even a library with no end. But he was always there. The boy with raven-dark hair and sorrowful silver eyes.
He never said much.
But his silence was never empty.
When he looked at her, she felt seen. When he smiled—rare and fleeting—it felt like the sunrise after a long, dark winter.
> "I know you…" she had whispered in the last dream.
He had nodded.
But then she had woken up.
---
The villagers noticed a change in Elira.
Her eyes seemed distant, her steps lighter. She laughed more, but there was always a lingering pause—as if part of her lingered elsewhere.
> "She's in love," the baker's wife said with a grin.
> "With who?" asked the shepherd boy, curious.
> "Probably some boy from her dreams."
They meant it as a joke.
But Elira only smiled.
> "You're not wrong," she said quietly.
---
Far away, beyond the mountains and forests, in the western wing of the royal palace, Prince Kael sat by his window, a charcoal pencil moving over parchment.
He drew without looking down.
He didn't need to.
He'd seen her face so many times now, he could render it from memory—the arch of her brows, the shape of her lips, the way her eyes shone like dawn.
Maren stood beside him, a tray of untouched food in his hands.
> "Is that her again?" he asked softly.
Kael nodded.
> "She has no name," he said, "but in my dreams, she calls me as if she's known me her entire life."
> "And what do you call her?"
Kael paused. Then smiled faintly.
> "Elira."
> "A lovely name."
> "It's not one I gave her," Kael added. "It came to me. As if… I remembered it."
---
Each dream drew them closer.
In one, she sat beside him on a swing made of vines and moonlight, her voice barely above a whisper.
> "What are you?" she had asked.
> "I don't know anymore," Kael replied. "A prince, perhaps. Or a prisoner."
> "But you walk here."
> "Only here."
She had reached out, brushing his arm as if to test his solidity.
> "Then maybe this place is more real than the waking world."
Kael had looked at her then, his heart thudding.
> "If it is… stay with me a little longer."
She had smiled.
And stayed.
---
In Aerwyn, Elira began writing letters she never sent.
She folded each one carefully and placed them in a small wooden box beneath her bed.
> To the boy in the dream,
I don't know who you are, but I miss you when I'm awake. I miss the way the world feels right when you're near. I think… I was meant to find you.
Someday. Somehow.
---
That same night, in his chamber, Kael stood on trembling arms, balancing against the wall with sheer force of will. His legs remained lifeless beneath him, but his heart was burning.
He stared at the stars.
> "I don't want this world without her."
He had spoken those words only once aloud.
But the wind carried them nonetheless.
---
In the celestial realm far above, the gods gathered once again.
The hall shimmered with golden light. Voices echoed like thunder and whispers all at once.
A young goddess in a silver veil leaned forward.
> "Their hearts grow closer."
An older god nodded slowly. "The thread strengthens. Their souls remember each other."
A third, with eyes like burning suns, frowned. "But they are still mortal. Still bound by the rules of flesh."
> "Perhaps," the goddess said, "but if they continue… the thread may awaken."
A hush fell.
For to awaken the thread was to rewrite fate.
---
Back in the village, Elira dreamed again.
She walked through a palace of clouds and gold, her feet silent on gleaming floors. She found him in a throne room, sitting not on the throne, but by the window, watching the skies.
> "You're sad again," she said gently.
> "I always am, when you leave."
She walked to him, knelt beside his chair, and took his hand.
> "Then I'll stay."
Kael looked at her.
> "Who are you, really?"
She leaned her forehead against his.
> "Maybe I'm yours."
His breath caught.
Then she vanished.
---
He woke up, a tear slipping down his cheek.
---
The dreams were growing stronger. More vivid.
One morning, Kael woke and reached for his walking cane, only to pause.
> "What if this is all meant for something?"
He didn't mean the dream. He meant her.
---
That same morning, Elira stood in the field of wildflowers outside Aerwyn. The petals swayed as if dancing around her.
She looked up at the sky, as if something—someone—was watching.
> "I will find you," she whispered. "I swear I will."