The Sanctuary was a place outside of time.
Days passed like dreams. Aelira woke to the scent of lavender tea and candlelight drifting through enchanted halls. She trained in spells of shielding and channeling, guided by Lysenne, the Oracle, whose eyes held storms and centuries. And at night, she dreamed.
Not ordinary dreams — but visions.
Flashes of battle. A blade of starlight. Whispers in the dark that called her name in voices both familiar and unknown.
Today, her lesson was with Kaelen.
They stood in a courtyard beneath an open dome, stars visible even in daylight. Crystal runes glowed around the perimeter, each pulsing to the rhythm of the Veil itself.
"Focus on your center," Kaelen said, circling her. "You don't command the power. You become it."
Aelira closed her eyes, steadying her breath. She felt the crescent stone around her neck pulse once—then warmth surged through her veins like golden fire.
Her hands rose. Light flared.
And then — a pulse of shadow cracked through the circle.
Kaelen moved fast, dispelling the surge before it exploded.
Aelira staggered back, panting. "What was that?"
"You're pulling too much," he said, brows furrowed. "The Veil answers to you, but it won't protect you if you lose control."
"I didn't lose control," she said sharply. "Something interrupted it."
Kaelen hesitated, then nodded. "Possibly. The Queen is watching."
Theron leaned against a pillar nearby, having arrived mid-session — casually late, as always.
"She's dreaming again, isn't she?" he said. "I can feel it."
Aelira's heart skipped. "You… feel my dreams?"
Theron nodded, serious now. "Bonded souls resonate. What touches you… touches us all."
Lysenne's voice echoed as she entered the chamber. "Then we must speak of the vision that came last night."
All eyes turned to her.
Aelira felt the cold return, settling in her spine like frost.
"I saw fire and snow," she said softly. "A man, shackled in ice. His eyes were silver — and he called my name."
Lysenne's lips thinned. "The Frostborne. The third of your bond."
Kaelen stiffened. "He was lost."
"No," Lysenne said. "Imprisoned in the north. The Queen feared him — his magic could shatter her illusions."
Theron stepped forward. "Then we go north."
"Wait," Kaelen snapped. "We're not ready. The path to the Icebound Citadel is suicide. If the Queen's forces are already there—"
"I won't leave him," Aelira interrupted. Her voice was quiet, but unwavering. "Not again. Not if he's part of me."
Kaelen looked at her with something unreadable.
Theron smiled, like he expected nothing less.
Lysenne gave a slow nod. "Then the choice is made. But beware — the ice holds more than memories. It holds truths."
That night, Aelira stood alone in the chamber of stars.
The lights danced above her — constellations older than language. She pressed her palm to the floating shard of violet light again.
A whisper answered.
Not a voice… but a feeling.
Cold lips on hers. A silent vow beneath the aurora. Silver eyes brimming with sorrow.
He was waiting.
And in her chest, something began to ache — not from fear, but from longing.
Tomorrow, they would ride north. Into ice and shadow. Into history.
And maybe… into love.