Elowen Aris Vale walked along the narrow cobblestone streets of Veyndra, her hands tucked into the pockets of her coat, shoulders hunched against the chill that clung to the early morning.
The town was small, the kind of place where everyone knew everyone—or at least thought they did—but it carried secrets beneath its quiet surface.
Windows glimmered with frost, chimneys puffed thin smoke into the gray sky, and the faint scent of wet earth lingered after last night's rain.
Elowen's life had always been quiet.
Too quiet, some might say.
She worked at the town's small library, a building that smelled of old paper and varnish, where she found solace among the shelves.
She loved the rustle of pages and the soft hum of a world untouched by gossip or cruelty.
And yet, every time she stepped outside, she felt the weight of unspoken stories pressing down on her—stories that intertwined her life with others in ways she had yet to fully understand.
Kaelen Thorne, the boy she had grown up beside, watched her from across the street. He leaned against the wooden rail of the bakery porch, hands in his pockets, jaw tense.
He had not spoken to her in days, not since that argument that had reopened old wounds.
His chest tightened whenever he saw her. The memory of her teary eyes and whispered words haunted him.
Why did I let it go this far? he thought.
I should have said something.
I should have fixed it.
Kaelen had always been protective of Elowen, though it often came across as stubbornness.
There had been mistakes, years ago, that neither of them had truly addressed.
Small lies that festered into silence, and now that silence had grown heavy.
Meanwhile, Mirelle Cade burst into the street, laughter spilling around her like sunlight.
She wore her usual confident smile, a mask for the storms brewing within her own heart. No one would suspect the anxiety that gripped her when she was alone, the fear that something she had hidden too long might one day be discovered.
"Elowen!" Mirelle called, waving her hands dramatically.
"Don't tell me you're going to hide in that library all day. The world is awake!"
Elowen allowed a small smile, though it never reached her eyes.
"Mirelle… it's cold. And rainy," she replied, glancing up at the clouds beginning to gather again.
Mirelle shrugged, unbothered.
"Then let's grab coffee before the storm hits. I have a story to tell you—one you won't believe."
The first drop of rain fell then, heavy and deliberate, as though it had been waiting for this precise moment.
It tapped against the cobblestones, pattered on rooftops, and streaked the windows with hurried rivulets.
The rain always reminded Elowen of home, of memories she barely allowed herself to touch.
A soft melancholy settled over her, the kind that made her lungs ache as though carrying grief she had yet to name.
And then he appeared.
Selaris Veyra, a stranger in Veyndra, stepped from the mist at the edge of the square.
He was tall, with eyes that seemed to carry both fire and shadow, and hair dark as storm clouds.
His presence drew attention without effort; townsfolk paused mid-step to glance, whispered softly, and yet none dared approach.
Selaris looked directly at Elowen, and for a moment, the rain seemed to slow.
The connection was immediate, unspoken, and unsettling.
Elowen blinked, unsure what to feel. Curiosity? Fear? Something deeper?
Kaelen stiffened, sensing the shift before Elowen did.
Something about this stranger pricked at the corners of his awareness—a disruption of the delicate, unsteady balance he had been guarding.
Who is he? Kaelen thought. And why do I feel… jealous already?
Mirelle noticed Kaelen's tension and raised an eyebrow.
"Careful, Thorne. Don't look like that. You'll scare her."
He ignored her.
His attention remained fixed on Selaris, who now moved closer, umbrella held loosely in one hand, a faint smile on his lips.
It was not a smile meant for everyone, only for her.
Elowen's heart skipped—a rhythm unfamiliar, foreign, and dangerous.
She shook her head, trying to dismiss the feeling, but the rain and the stranger's gaze had already begun to pull her forward.
The storm was only beginning, both outside and inside.
Elowen:
Something is coming. I can feel it.
It's not the rain.
It's not the cold.
It's him.
Or maybe it's everything he brings with him.
And I am terrified… yet I cannot turn away.