Chapter seven
The portal hissed shut behind them as Caelum stepped into the cool twilight of Elarion. His dark cloak trailed behind him like a lingering shadow, and the stone path beneath his boots pulsed faintly with starlight.
Thorne followed silently.
Though they had only spent a short time in the mortal realm, something about Caelum's demeanor was different. Subtle, but undeniable. Thorne had known him for centuries. He could feel the shift.
"You saw her," Thorne said after a long moment.
Caelum kept walking. "I don't know who she was."
"But you saw her," Thorne repeated, calmly.
"She felt familiar."
Thorne didn't press further. That was as much as Caelum ever allowed himself to admit.
They crossed into the Hall of Stars, its ceiling a dome of moving constellations and mirrored glass. No servants dared step too close. The ones who did move through the palace halls, fairyfolk without wings or enchantments visible, appearing as ordinary men and women kept their heads low and their hands clasped, as if afraid that merely brushing past the Warlord might summon his wrath.
They were right to be cautious.
Caelum inspired a quiet, terrible reverence. Not by cruelty, but by presence alone.
When they entered the Starforge Spire, a familiar voice sliced through the silence.
"You return early, Caelum."
He paused.
Vaelira.
She emerged from the shadows of a crystalline pillar, her figure cloaked in a cascade of silk as black as a starless sky. Her eyes, dark violet and ageless, shimmered with veiled curiosity.
"There were no official summons from the mortal realm," she said. "What called you there?"
Caelum's voice was cool. "An anomaly near the southern ridge of Aetherra. I checked it myself."
She tilted her head. "How diligent of you."
Caelum gave no reply.
Thorne, ever the shield, added, "It was nothing. A mortal distortion. Resolved."
Vaelira stepped closer, her voice smooth as honey and cold as night. "Still… it's not often you leave Elarion without orders."
"I don't take orders," Caelum replied, unblinking.
"No," she said with a small smile, "you don't."
She walked a slow circle around him, hands lightly brushing the hem of her gown. "And yet… you seem changed."
Thorne stiffened, but Vaelira raised a hand.
"Relax. I'm not foolish enough to mention the forbidden."
"Then don't," Caelum said sharply.
A pause.
She stopped just beside him, her face inches from his shoulder. "You know, Caelum… You don't hide your thoughts as well as you believe. Something is stirring. Even the sky smells different."
"I didn't come here to entertain your riddles."
"Pity." Her smile lingered, but her gaze darkened. "I wonder what it is you think you're searching for."
Without waiting for a response, she vanished into the wall of shadows from which she came.
Only once she was gone did Thorne exhale.
"She remembers," Caelum said.
"They all do," Thorne replied, voice quiet. "But none of them will speak."
"Good."
He walked toward the balcony, casting his eyes across the veiled horizon of Elarion. The city glittered like a dream,suspended towers, floating bridges, lanterns that pulsed like stars. Its beauty was eternal, yet Caelum felt none of it.
"I've dreamt of her before," he said. "Silver hair. Fire. A voice screaming."
"But never her face?"
Caelum shook his head. "Not until tonight. And even then… it was like remembering a dream I'd already forgotten."
Thorne leaned beside the carved archway. "She unsettled you."
"She made me curious."
Thorne smirked faintly. "You hate curiosity."
"I hate not knowing."
There was silence for a while. The only sound was the breeze slipping between the floating towers of Elarion.
"She spoke to me like I wasn't terrifying," Caelum muttered.
"She doesn't know who you are."
"Exactly."
Thorne gave a rare shrug. "Maybe that's why you didn't stop her."
Caelum turned to him, his face expressionless but eyes stormy.
"She was… real. That's the only word I have for it. Real in a way everything else here isn't."
Thorne said nothing. As always, he held the truths he would never speak. His oath bound him more tightly than steel.
Caelum turned back to the stars. His face, beautiful and sharp as carved marble, looked younger in that moment haunted, almost.
He didn't know why her eyes followed him into his sleep. He didn't know why her voice echoed when the world fell quiet.
But he did know this:
He would see her again.