Leonard trudged through the dense night, its cold breath cutting to his very bones. Each step crunched against the gravel, echoing like distant reverberations in his hollow soul. He felt like a shadow, a phantom who had lost himself. He had to keep reminding himself why he had left. Why he’d chosen a path of ruin, one that shattered his mind into a thousand fragile shards. His heart now felt heavy as stone; with each breath, it pricked him painfully, as if long, sharp needles were trying to silence its beat forever. And yet, at that moment, death seemed like the sweetest release! He climbed the steep rocky path to the peak, his eyes fixed on the dark horizon, a cruel reminder of the helpless void yawning inside him. The path across the crags was treacherous, and he stumbled hard more than once, feeling with each fall that he was fading away, like he would never again feel anything but this endless pain.
"How could it end so quickly? So bitterly?” he muttered to himself in an empty whisper, swallowed up by the wind. "Gods, I blame you! Why did you send her to me?! What justice is there in your ways, that the love that filled me with life has turned to deadly poison? Why did I have to taste true happiness, only to tear it out of myself so soon?”
He halted, sinking heavily onto a rock, his hands pressed to his scraped knees. Tears blurred his vision, yet he could still see her face—the smile, the soft gentleness in it, and the gaze that looked at him as though he were her whole world. “You were my first love, Yelena… my everything. How can I live now, knowing what I’ve lost? How can I exist in this world, having known the beauty your soul brought to me? Without you, I am nothing. The aura you called to life in me must surely be extinguished by now!”
He looked at his hands, weighted and bloodstained, as if they bore the weight of all the wrong choices he had ever made. “Maybe you’ll call me a coward. Maybe I fled because I couldn’t protect you in the way you deserved… But know this: I love you, and may your life be filled with happiness!” The words burned his throat, and his voice resisted saying them. “May you have many children and fill the world with the beauty of your magic flowers! A life at your side isn’t mine to claim… Abromer, that wretch, was right… With a throne on my back, I’d bring you only ruin. That accursed saddle is my curse, and now, condemned by its power, I writhe here on the ground like a serpent… I thought that by letting you go, I’d shield you from all the pain of this cruel world order. But what if, by doing so, I only betrayed you?”
The wind grew stronger, shaking him with cold, so he stood and continued on, his legs wobbling as if he’d been drinking wine, stumbling over the stones, driven only by a single thought. "Will you be happy again? Will you promise me that, my love? Can you forgive me for allowing all this to happen, foolish as I was? I hate myself for it! Gods, though I curse you, help me! Give me a sign! Hear me and reverse this fate, or if you can’t, shorten my life! For I can bear no more!”
Finally, he staggered to the summit. At the very edge of the star-lit cliff, he stopped and looked down into the dark depths below. Every breath tasted of life, his thoughts coming to a kind of peace, reaching the destination where nothing awaited him. He imagined his Evening Star dancing one last time, her pearls lighting up the night, and thought of waiting for her somewhere in the halls of eternity. There, they could be happy together. She would live on now! He imagined her working magic flames, maybe remembering him when she saw them. Just for a moment, like someone who had once passed through her life. He took one last breath of fresh air…
In that final moment, as he felt his feet leaving the solid ground, he met the resistance of the air, a fierce impact of wind pushing back. The wind around him transformed into a storm! What he had done was now irrevocable, the thought flashed through his mind. Out of nowhere, mighty wings swept over him, a beak struck his face, and something heavy pulling him even faster toward the earth fell on his neck. His back was pierced on both sides by something sharp—not the jagged stone he expected to break his neck but the claws of a massive creature! A great bird, whose piercing scream revived his spirit and also halted his deadly fall. Once the bird released him just above the ground, Leonard hit the earth hard, but he survived.
As he rose from the dust, battered and bruised, he looked down and saw the glowing stone hanging on the chain around his neck—it sparkled with a light that instantly reminded him of Yelena. “The gods surely heard me! It was true… The stone found me, just as she said…” he realized in astonishment, and his heart trembled with a new surge of excitement. As if, in that very moment, their souls had met once again, and everything became clear. They were meant for each other! How could he have doubted, even for an instant? She had believed in him from the very beginning! Where was she now? Could she have been the one to send this bird? He had to find her, to explain everything!
Images swirled in his mind, chaotic and disjointed, when suddenly, he saw her face in flames, her eyes filled with pain, the consuming fire engulfing her. Did they capture her?! What if they had burned her at the stake while he was lost in despair? “Yelena!” he shouted. From his young, wounded heart surged a new strength, a fierce urgency. He ran as if trapped in a dream from which there was no escape. “Yelena! Do you hear me!? I’ll explain everything!” he called, his voice almost breaking the mountains with its echoing sorrow. “I will never forgive myself! Come back to me!” he gasped, struggling for breath.
When he reached their camp, his eyes filled with horror. A burned circle, moss and tree roots scorched, still smoldering from the embers. No one was there, the tent was empty! “Oh no! My love, I never wanted this! Come back to me!” Leonard gritted his teeth, the pain in his heart returning sharper and more bitter than ever. With a desperate cry that shook the mountains, he screamed his pain into the night, his voice piercing up to the stars themselves.
And it was in that very moment that the old tree trunk nearby, which had hungrily consumed the heart of his beloved—the Evening Star, who had embodied herself with powerful magic in that tree and now, awakened by his anguished cry, came to life in her final moment. The bark cracked, and a sound like the ancient drums echoed, resonating deeply and raw from the inside of the tree.
Leonard staggered back, then, as a brilliant silver mist poured from the wooden hollow, he rushed to Yelena's aid. She emerged, perhaps even more beautiful than before.
Without a word, they fell into each other’s arms, their hands entwining, their hearts beating in perfect unison. They held each other as if they would never let go. He lifted her into his arms, holding her with a sense of immense peace, knowing their love was stronger than anything else. Silently, they understood that all was forgiven.
It was Leonard who finally broke the endless silent communion of two loving souls. His voice was soft, almost reverent: “You found me, just as you said you would, my love. So, it was the bird who brought it to me, as if the gods themselves called him to my aid in my darkest hour. Look, he shines with joy by your side, like a star in my embrace!” He nodded toward the stone at his chest, glowing softly.
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Yelena, illuminated by Leonard’s words, looked at the stone and took it gently in her hands, a tender smile lighting up her face. Her eyes sparkled, her voice a sweet melody: “I knew it! I knew your story from the very beginning! I don’t know how… but you were meant for me, and I am sure I will never leave you.”
“Nor will I leave you! Never, I swear on my life!” Leonard’s words were firm and filled with devotion, his gaze brimming with gratitude and love.
Yelena ran her fingers over the stone, which glowed warmly under her touch. “Then let this stone be the symbol of our love, of our promise! There is much you must learn, Leonard, and I will be with you, guiding you on your path. You have become a Geomancer, one of the chosen who wield the light. In your hands, you will soon shape power, the kind you glimpsed in me only a few times. But believe me, you need not fear if you use this magic wisely.”
Leonard gazed at her in awe and admiration. “I love you,” he whispered, and kissed her reverently.
“And I love you, Leonard, prince, chosen by the fall of a star!” she replied with warmth, holding him closer.
The rest of the night, their bodies entwined again and again, and the stone never stopped glowing. Lights from within the tent cast dancing shadows on its walls, as if the gods themselves bore witness to their vow and their union. As dawn approached and both fell into a deep sleep, they were enveloped in love and endless peace.
In that quiet stillness, as dawn broke, something unsettling stirred in the distance. Leonard suddenly sat up, tense, while Yelena, woken by his unease, opened her eyes and listened intently. Together, they heard it—clearer now than before, a sound cutting through the morning mist—the pounding of hooves, hard and unrelenting, echoed through the forest as military troops drew closer.
Leonard looked at Yelena, who understood in an instant. “Abromer…” she whispered, her face contorted with betrayal and sorrow. “Him! He was the only one who knew where we were! He betrayed our refuge, thinking he’d save the others by giving us up… that he could separate love from destiny.”
Leonard’s eyes burned with rage, but also with fierce resolve. “We don’t have time to waste, Yelena,” he said, rising quickly, ready to protect her. But Yelena stood as well, her eyes filled with defiance and magical energy. With a swift movement, she cleared the tent above them and listened, trying to pinpoint the direction of the approaching hooves. Then, with a wave of her hands, she summoned a spell of fire. Flames expanded into a mighty, blazing wall, blocking the path between them and the advancing soldiers.
In the distance, the clinking of armor and the terrified neighs of horses echoed as the soldiers approached the roaring flames. “It’s the witch, cursed one!” the soldiers cried. Then, one horse managed to leap through the flames, though likely suffering burns, followed by others. Leonard grabbed Yelena’s hand.
“Come on,” he commanded, pulling her into the dense forest. Both ran as they’d never run before, fear and determination pounding in their hearts. Just when they thought they might escape, they spotted another group of soldiers close behind. Relentlessly, they weaved through the trees, trying to confuse them, but the soldiers’ horses were swift, and their resolve unbreakable. Soon, they found themselves surrounded on both sides.
Leonard stood tense, his eyes narrowed, sword held firmly in his hands. He felt the magic stone around his neck begin to burn against his skin, its light pulsing in sync with his frantic heartbeat, filling him with energy. The soldiers advanced, their faces emotionless, like mere tools of his father.
The first soldier charged at him with a long spear aimed straight for Leonard’s chest. Leonard quickly sidestepped, deflecting the spear with a precise sweep of his sword, wedging the blade into the ground. The soldier hesitated for a split second, just enough. Leonard struck horizontally, his blade cutting through the man’s side, blood spraying as the soldier staggered, his hand slipping from the spear as he fell.
“Next!” Leonard growled, his voice hoarse, filled with determination.
Another soldier attacked him from behind. Leonard heard the creak of armor and Yelena’s shout, which was enough to make him spin around and raise his sword high to block the oncoming axe. Meanwhile, Yelena fired several light bolts at another rider. Her magical strikes knocked him from his horse, and the wind whipped sparks that bounced off his armor. The same sparks flew before Leonard’s face as blades clashed again in another strike. Leonard felt the impact reverberate through his arms but held his ground. Stepping over the soldier’s shield hanging low, he struck down with his blade. The edge bit into the enemy’s arm, cutting through to the bone, and the man cried out in pain, his weapon clattering to the ground.
“You’re no match for me!” Leonard shouted, his eyes blazing with battle fury. Each movement became increasingly resolute, his will to protect Yelena unwavering.
A third soldier hissed something menacingly, drawing a dagger aimed low at Leonard’s thighs to cripple his movements. Leonard retreated, narrowly dodging the swift jab. With a sidestep, he pressed the soldier’s wrist against his sword and drove the blade between the man’s ribs in a swift motion. The soldier exhaled and collapsed, his body slumping to the ground.
Just then, he heard quiet footsteps from behind. Turning, he caught sight of a tall, rough-looking man with a two-handed sword advancing, his face cold and emotionless. “This time, you won’t be so lucky,” the soldier growled, his voice booming like thunder through the valley. He swung with a powerful sweep.
Leonard barely managed to dodge, feeling the massive blade slice through the air inches from his face. The impact of the soldier’s steps shook the ground, his blows heavy yet sluggish, and Leonard, using all his combat skill, deftly sidestepped, watching for even the slightest opening in his opponent’s defense. Before him stood a soldier who wielded strength, while Leonard wielded speed and determination.
The soldier’s massive sword swung high over his head in a dangerously wide arc. In that brief moment, Leonard saw his chance. Exploiting the soldier’s loss of balance, Leonard struck low. His sword sliced in a blinding arc and cut deeply into the soldier’s thigh. The man staggered, shouting in pain as he searched for balance, but his leg betrayed him. Blood poured from the wound, deeper than it appeared at first glance.
Leonard remained focused, watching for any sign of the soldier’s next move. The man dropped to one knee, cursing under his breath, his eyes full of fury and humiliation. Slowly, he began to collapse, his face twisted in pain and shame.
“I will… never… surrender,” Leonard said through gritted teeth, his breath labored, but his gaze remained steely, unyielding as the blade he held.
Just as he thought he might have a moment to catch his breath, he felt a sudden, piercing pain—a soldier’s blade had plunged deep into his chest. The shock forced a gasp from his lungs, his body slackened, collapsing to his knees, and his sword slipped from his hand. The stone on his neck began to glow a deep red, its light pulsing with every frantic beat of Leonard’s heart, striving desperately to keep him alive. Blood spilled from the wound, his vision began to blur, and the outlines of the soldiers before him faded.
Then, in that darkest moment of despair, when Leonard’s gaze was losing focus, Yelena’s scream pierced the tension on the battlefield like a sharp blade. The wall of fire surrounding them blazed up to new, scorching heights as Yelena, her face twisted in anguish and fury, rose from where she had been watching Leonard fight for his life.
In an instant, her body dissolved into a dense, dark mist. She became a creature born of night terrors, an unstoppable force that surged across the battlefield like a raging wave. The soldiers, stunned by her transformation, recoiled in terror, but Yelena struck them with a power far beyond their understanding. With a chilling screech that cut to the bone, she tore the souls from their bodies, their cries swallowed by the cold, empty void. Her scream resonated like the echo of millennia-old injustices and thwarted hopes that had finally found their chance for vengeance.
The air fell silent. The soldiers' lifeless bodies lay scattered, silent witnesses to Yelena’s wrath. The mist reformed into her shape, and exhausted and pale, she sank down beside Leonard. Tears in her eyes, she placed her hands over his wound, her breath hitching, her lips moving in quiet pleas. With every fiber of her being, she focused on a single desire—to save the life of the man she loved above all else.