The wind howled outside the stone walls of the Tower of the Moon, but inside, the library was still. The dim light of a single candle flickered against the dust-covered shelves, casting strange shadows on the ancient tomes. She sat at the center of it all, eyes narrowed as she poured over the prophecy etched into the vellum scroll before her.
It had been a week since the dream—the one she couldn't forget.
You will be the light that binds the darkness. He, the key to your soul.
Her hands trembled as she turned the page. The words seemed familiar, though she had never read them before. And yet, they burned into her memory as if they were a part of her.
A part of something bigger. Something that she didn't want.
Her name was Elara, a scholar of the ancient arts, with a gift that had always set her apart from her peers. She was not like the other noblewomen of her house. While they reveled in court life, Elara found solace in the written word, in scrolls that carried secrets long buried in the past. But her mind had always been her weapon—never her heart.
That was, until the prophecy found her.
"Elara, do you have that scroll?" Her mentor, Master Nyx, appeared in the doorway. His graying beard and sharp eyes were familiar, but the unease in his voice was not.
Elara didn't look up, still captivated by the swirling symbols in front of her. "It's here. But what does it mean, Nyx? I don't understand."
The old man sighed and stepped forward, his boots scraping softly against the stone floor. "You know more than you think. The prophecy is clear, Elara. You are bound to him." He stopped, his voice lowering. "The man who will change everything."
Later that evening, Elara's world would change when she crossed paths with the one the prophecy spoke of. Prince Caelen, the heir to the Kingdom of Ascalon, a land ruled by bloodline magic and ancient oaths.
At first, he was no more than a shadow at the edge of the courtyard, his silhouette framed by the moonlight. Tall, brooding, with eyes that seemed to know more than they let on. His face was set in a hard mask, yet beneath that, she caught a flicker of something more—a deep sorrow, a hidden truth.
It was only when he spoke that the world felt real again.
"Elara," he said, his voice a low whisper that only she could hear. "You have questions. I have answers. But only if you're ready to listen."
Elara looked at him, her heart racing for reasons she couldn't quite explain. Her instinct told her to step back, to reject him and everything he represented. But another part of her—the part that she had long suppressed—urged her forward. She took a step, and the ground beneath her feet seemed to tremble.
Caelen's eyes softened as if he had expected this. "The prophecy isn't just about love, Elara. It's about what comes after. What we are meant to face together."
Elara swallowed hard. She knew she couldn't escape it anymore. The fate of two realms was tied to them both. And despite her fears, despite the confusion in her heart, she couldn't deny it—her path was now entwined with his.