Lyrisa stood in the grand hall of the Thranduil household, its high, arched ceilings adorned with intricate carvings of ancient elven legends and murals of spellwork woven into the walls themselves. The soft light of enchanted lamps cast an almost ethereal glow on everything, yet the beauty of her surroundings did little to soothe her unease. She had been left alone, unsure of where Aolis had disappeared to. The servants who had initially welcomed her now busied themselves with their own tasks, their movements precise and silent as they avoided her questioning eyes.
Taking a deep breath, Lyrisa approached a nearby servant, an older elf with a reserved expression. “Excuse me, do you know where Aolis has gone? He brought me here and then vanished.”
The servant’s gaze flickered with something she couldn’t quite place—sympathy, perhaps? He bowed his head respectfully but spoke with a note of finality. “I’m afraid young master Aolis often uses his illusion lingua to hide himself. Even we are unable to find him when he does this.”
Lyrisa’s lips pressed into a thin line. She wasn’t about to let herself be dismissed or ignored. “Thank you,” she said, turning on her heel. She reached out with her senses, allowing her connection with the surrounding plant life to guide her. The Thranduil household was steeped in magic, but it was still part of the natural world, intertwined with vines that had been encouraged to grow around pillars and ancient trees that were incorporated into the structure.
Where is he? she whispered to the plants, the gentle inquiry flowing from her mind into theirs. The whispers of leaves and the creaking of old roots answered her, a soft chorus that seemed to pulse with life. They guided her out of the hall, down a winding path that led deeper into the estate’s private gardens.
Following the trail of murmurs, she walked through a narrow corridor of towering hedges until she reached a secluded glade. The plants whispered that he was near, their leaves rustling as if pointing her onward. She finally saw Aolis, sitting on the ground, partially hidden beneath the sprawling branches of an ancient willow. His face was pale, his violet eyes wide with surprise when he noticed her.
As soon as their eyes met, Aolis’s body tensed. He sprang to his feet, only to stumble backward and trip over a root. He landed awkwardly, wincing as he scrambled to hide behind the willow’s curtain of drooping branches. His voice, shaking and hollow, drifted toward her. “It’s okay. You can laugh at me. Everyone does anyway.”
Lyrisa stepped forward, pushing aside the thin branches that concealed him. His eyes darted around as though seeking an escape, but there was nowhere to go. She could see the fear and embarrassment painted across his delicate features.
“I’m not going to laugh at you, Aolis,” she said softly, kneeling down so that they were eye level.
Aolis swallowed, his hands twisting the hem of his robe anxiously. “Why wouldn’t you? I’m a freak. I hide from everyone because I can’t bear to face them. Even my own parents look at me like I’m a disappointment. They despise me for being weak-willed, for not living up to the Thranduil name.”
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Lyrisa’s gaze softened as she began to piece together the puzzle of this elusive elf. The servants’ hushed voices, the subtle looks of pity—it all made sense now. Aolis must have spent most of his life using his illusion lingua to slip through the household unseen, and in doing so, he had probably overheard the scorn and disdain spoken behind his back. The walls of this beautiful home had trapped him in an invisible cage of whispers and judgment, feeding his self-loathing and stripping him of his self-worth.
“Aolis,” she began, her voice gentle yet unwavering, “I know what it’s like to want to disappear, to wish for the comfort of solitude. I don’t actually like spending time with people either. I feel most at peace when I’m deep in the forest, hidden beneath the leaves where no one can find me.”
His eyes met hers, wide with disbelief. “You’re lying. Why would someone as beautiful and wonderful as you need to avoid people? You don’t know what it’s like to be... me,” he said, his voice cracking as he looked away, his shoulders trembling.
Lyrisa couldn’t help the small smile that spread across her face at his words. He thinks I’m beautiful, she thought, the revelation warming her heart. “You think I’m beautiful?” she teased gently.
Aolis’s face flushed a deep crimson, and he stuttered out something incomprehensible before trying to push himself up to run. But he was too flustered, and his foot caught on the same root that had tripped him earlier. He fell back, wincing as he rubbed his ankle.
Lyrisa reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from making another futile attempt to flee. “It’s okay, Aolis,” she said, her tone soothing. “I’m not here to mock you. I’m here because I chose you.”
His violet eyes met hers, searching for any trace of insincerity, but he found none. “Why?” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the rustle of the leaves.
“Because I see you,” Lyrisa said simply. “Not the heir the council expects, not the illusion you try to hide behind, but you. The real you. And I think that’s someone worth knowing.”
Aolis’s eyes filled with tears he tried to blink away. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, seemingly at a loss for words. He dropped his gaze to the ground, his fingers curling in the grass as he tried to steady himself. “I’ve never... no one’s ever said that to me before,” he admitted, the confession leaving him vulnerable and exposed.
The silence between them was filled with the gentle rustling of the willow branches, a comforting lullaby that seemed to cradle them in a world apart from the rest of the estate. Lyrisa let the moment stretch, allowing him the space to process her words. Finally, she spoke, her voice lightening with a touch of playfulness.
“So, do you want to spend some time alone with me? I promise I’m not as scary as the others in your household,” she said, a smile breaking the tension.
Aolis’s blush deepened, but he managed a small, shy smile. It was the first genuine smile she’d seen from him, and it lit up his face in a way that made her heart ache. He nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing as he met her gaze with newfound trust. “I’d... I’d like that,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.
“Good,” Lyrisa said, leaning back and letting her hands rest on the cool grass. She glanced up at the sky, the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy above. “We don’t have to talk, you know. We can just sit here and listen to the wind, to the whispers of the trees. It’s enough.”
Aolis watched her, the anxiety in his eyes giving way to something softer, more hopeful. He settled back down beside her, mimicking her posture. For a while, they sat in silence, listening to the gentle sounds of the garden, the leaves rustling as if sharing their secrets with the breeze.
Lyrisa felt the weight of the moment, knowing that this was the first step in breaking down the barriers Aolis had built around himself. He was fragile, yes, but there was a spark within him—a spark she intended to nurture, not just for the sake of the mission alone, but because she saw the potential in him that he couldn’t yet see in himself. She was curious on what would happen if she turned that spark into a flame.
And as Aolis stole another glance at her, a tiny, tentative smile playing on his lips, Lyrisa knew soon she would become the boy's sanctuary.