KAELEN
“Kaelen… Kaelen…”
The voice was close. Too close to ignore.
“Wake up… Open your eyes…”
It was barely a whisper, yet it carried something that left no room for resistance. He obeyed. The world shattered, and instead of her, Kaelen found himself staring at the ceiling of his chamber. He drew a sharp breath and pushed himself up on his elbows. He glanced around. Nothing had changed since the day before.
“Was it a dream?” he thought, but the word felt wrong — it had been too real.
Only moments ago he had felt the soft forest moss and tangled roots beneath his back. His body had been heavy, as though someone had pressed it into the earth and stolen his ability to move. And then she had appeared. She leaned over him, and every discomfort ceased to matter. All that remained was warmth, slowly spreading through his body, as if breathing life back into him. He watched her. She was familiar and strange at once. Her face — an almost perfect reflection of elven beauty, yet unlike anything he encountered in his daily life. Her lips were full and soft, the colour of wild bilberries. His gaze drifted between them and her eyes. They were pale, barely blue, rimmed with a darker edge that gave them depth — unsettling and irresistible in equal measure. In all his three hundred years of life, he had never seen their like. They pierced him like icicles, cutting through his most secret thoughts straight to his heart. Then she leaned closer, and her dark, gleaming hair fell across his chest. She parted her lips slightly, drew a breath, and spoke his name: “Kaelen!” He watched every movement of her lips. He drank in every word that passed them.
“Open your eyes,” she pleaded, and Kaelen had no choice.
And then — a knock at the door. Reality caught up with him, though he longed desperately to go on dreaming. Without waiting for his answer, the door swung open, and a tall man entered whose presence always changed the atmosphere of a room. He was impeccably dressed. On his head gleamed a crown — golden ivy wound around a massive ruby the size of a fist — the symbol of their bloodline and their kingdom.
“You should be up by now,” said his father calmly — Vornion, King of Luvorn, known as the Radiant Granary. “Duties do not fulfil themselves.”
“I had the impression it was you who needed rest today, Father.” Kaelen leaned back against the headboard.
“Which is precisely why I cannot.”
“Are you telling me that you, a great elf, king of a powerful realm, are nervous about your own wedding?” Kaelen laughed softly.
“Perhaps I should be resting, but as it stands, those with duties are still asleep. Get up and make yourself presentable. You will eat with me. We have details to discuss.”
It was not a suggestion. Vornion left, pulling the door shut with more force than necessary. The message was clear — there was no room for jest today. The king was to be wed, and Kaelen, as his firstborn and heir, was expected to keep everything in order and remain at his father’s beck and call.
Kaelen rose and began to ready himself. He reached for water, splashed his face, and tried to clear his thoughts. It was useless. His mind kept returning to the woman from his dream.
“Pull yourself together,” he muttered.
Minutes later he was in the king’s chambers. General Thaerdir — the king’s commander and closest friend — was already present. Kaelen always felt unnaturally stiff in their company. Though he and his father spoke openly to one another, Thaerdir was his mentor and commanding officer. Their relationship had never been simple, for the man saw in him not the king’s son, but the future ruler. Kaelen stood second only to the king, his future clearly mapped out before him. One day he would take the general’s place, and when the time came, he would ascend to the throne of Luvorn. He understood the weight of expectation others placed upon him, and he refused to let anyone down — above all his father.
“My lord Vornion, everything is in readiness,” Thaerdir announced. “Guests are beginning to gather around the Silver Tree… The Grand Mage is prepared as well. Kaelen and I have all security measures under control. The guards are positioned — some remain visible, the rest are stationed among the guests.” Though the general’s voice was stern, his tone was measured. Had Kaelen looked more closely, he might have caught the faintest trace of a smile on the man’s face.
“Good. Enough of that topic. If my future bride is ready, I can begin at any moment.”
The king rose and dismissed the subject with a brief wave of his hand.
On his way back to his chamber, Kaelen found Lariel waiting at his door, visibly impatient.
“Finally! How long can you keep talking about the same things?” she called out with a smile.
“For as long as the king deems necessary,” he replied with a grin, then kissed her on the forehead. “Welcome, sister… What brings you here? Should you not be attending the future queen?”
Kaelen opened the door and let Lariel pass first.
“I think…” she hesitated, “…that something is troubling you, brother. Would you like to talk about it? Even now I can feel a quiet restlessness in you, though you are trying to hide it.”
Lariel watched him carefully. Kaelen knew she would not be easily brushed aside. His sister possessed abilities inherited from their mother. She perceived the emotions of others as physical sensations, and she could influence them through her voice. It was called the Soul Whisper and the Song of Solace.
“Nothing is wrong. I simply slept poorly,” he tried. “You know… today and tomorrow we will have many humans, mages, and elves here. Keeping such a gathering safe is no small matter…”
Lariel sighed.
“Perhaps… Remember that you can always tell me. I will try to help, to advise…” She studied him intently.
Kaelen laughed quietly, then raised his hands in surrender.
“All right, you have me. I had a dream, and I dreamed of… well… a woman,” he cleared his throat. “She said my name — nothing more. It is truly of no importance,” he tried to end it there, though he knew the conversation was far from over.
“Where do you know her from?”
Lariel settled into an armchair and fixed Kaelen with a penetrating gaze.
“That is just it — I do not know her.”
Lariel’s surprise was genuine.
“That is not possible… Only known faces appear in ordinary dreams…” She leaned toward him. “Could you be discovering new powers, brother? You are still relatively young, but even so, this would be rare at your age…” She paused in thought, then added, “Did she say anything to you? Did she behave strangely?”
Kaelen could see something stir in his sister.
“She told me to open my eyes. She was waking me, even though I could see her clearly. That is all — truly.”
Lariel promised to think it over and return to the subject after the ceremony. When she left, Kaelen sank onto his bed. He covered his face with his hands and lay still for a moment, trying to bring her image back.
“Open your eyes…” he heard suddenly — the voice so clear and real it might have come from someone standing right beside him.
He opened his eyes, sprang to his feet, and looked around the chamber. Nothing had changed. Resigned, he dressed mechanically. He pulled on his ceremonial coat and reached for his crown — a simpler version of his father’s, adorned with two sprigs of golden ivy and a ruby cut in the shape of a teardrop.
When he stepped out into the courtyard, he paused for a moment. Luvorn was beautiful, yet today it looked more majestic than ever — perhaps even slightly overwhelming. The Silver Tree gleamed brighter than usual. White and lilac ribbons drifted gently in the breeze, and at the centre of the square, a ring of ivy had been laid. That was where King Vornion and his heart’s companion, Elowen, would stand. They would swear eternal devotion to one another, and the Grand Mage would nick their index fingers, press them together, and speak a succession of spells — protective, sustaining, and comforting — to seal their bond. After that, two days of celebration would remain. Kaelen enjoyed dancing and music, and he was no stranger to wine and fine food, but this time he knew he must keep his guard — for the sake of his father’s honour and the duty entrusted to him.
Kaelen had never given serious thought to his own marriage. He knew many beautiful elf women. They interested him as he interested them, yet nothing deeper lay beneath it. He had never experienced the feeling of falling in love. He understood that one day he too would need to stand in a ring of ivy — whether for love or for duty. At the present moment, however, he could not bring himself to offer even a dance to any of the lovely ladies invited to the wedding, though no doubt their fathers were counting heavily on it. Not today… not after those eyes…
“Ready?” Lariel drew him from his thoughts. Her gentle touch sent calm spreading through his body. He disliked it when she interfered with his emotions, but this time he did not protest. He answered her with a smile and offered his arm. Together they walked toward the Grand Mage, who had begun his preparations.
A horn sounded, and all conversation fell silent. Music filled the air. It was time for the ceremony to begin.
