Echoes of a Forgotten Past

The night was silent, veiled in a gentle mist that coiled between the ancient forest trees. Stars shimmered faintly above, their light filtered through the thick canopy. Inside a makeshift shelter formed by roots and branches, Liora slept curled beneath a blanket woven from enchanted leaves. Her wings, hidden by a light spell, gave off a faint magical whisper every time she shifted.

Kael remained awake—or tried to. Leaning against a stone, his golden eyes were closed, his expression rigid. Sleep, when it came, was never kind to him.

And in the darkness of his mind, the past returned—just as it always did.

He was only a child. A golden-eyed elf, a bastard rejected by royalty, ignored by his legitimate siblings, hated by the queen. His only solace was the nearby forest, where a soft-voiced fairy with silver hair awaited him each day.

She taught him songs, told him stories, healed his scrapes.

She was his only memory of what love felt like.

In the dream, Kael was seven again. He was bound to a tree, cold chains wrapped around his thin arms. A spell sealed his mouth—he couldn’t scream, couldn’t plead, couldn’t warn her.

The fairy—he had called her Maelie, though he never knew her real name—looked at him with an eerily calm expression. As if she had known this would happen one day. As if she had already accepted her end.

She walked forward slowly, resigned. Her hair shimmered like moonlight, even in the daylight. Her wings were broken—someone had already pierced them with cursed thorns to prevent her from flying.

The commander—one of Kael’s brothers—stepped forth. Tall. Arrogant. The same brother who once pushed him down a staircase for “walking above a true prince.” He held an enchanted blade, its edge glowing purple—a spell-forged weapon designed to kill magical beings.

“A rare fairy,” the brother said, sneering. “Ancient bloodline. Father will be pleased. Maybe he’ll even thank you, Kael.”

He laughed.

Kael tried to scream, to thrash, but the magic only tightened.

Maelie did not resist. She simply looked at Kael one last time.

And smiled.

A sorrowful smile. The kind a mother gives her child before the end.

“Don’t close your eyes, little one…” she whispered. “You must remember who you are.”

The blade fell.

It wasn’t a clean cut.

Fairies, bound to magic, do not die easily. The sword had to tear through spells woven into her very soul. Her death was not silent.

Kael heard everything.

Every second.

The sound of her enchantments cracking like shattered glass.
Her scream—half song, half agony—cut short.
Her wings fluttered once more, then vanished.

Her blood spilled to his feet. Silver. Glowing. The earth drank it greedily, as though consuming a fallen star.

When it was over, his brother wiped the blade clean and cast Kael a mocking glance.

“One day, they’ll do the same to you. Half-elf, half-trash.”

And then he left.

The memory crumbled like ash in the wind.
But the pain... remained.

In the dream, Kael was no longer a child. He stood over his brother’s body, his hands wrapped around the bastard’s throat. His golden eyes burned with rage and tears.

“You… killed her… AND LAUGHED!”

He squeezed.

The neck gave way beneath his fingers. A strangled noise. A struggling body. But Kael didn’t stop.

“She was all I had…”

The world bled red.
Pain. Shadows. Hate.

Until—

Reality pulled him back.

But his body couldn’t tell the difference.

His eyes snapped open—
—and his hands reached forward.

And found Liora’s throat.

“Kael!?” she gasped, eyes wide with shock.

He gripped.

One second.
Two.

Then—he realized.

His eyes widened. His hand jerked back as if scalded.

Liora fell back, coughing softly. Not from pain, but from the shock of it all.

Kael stumbled away, breath ragged. His hands trembled violently. Horror etched across his face.

“Liora…?” His voice barely came out. “It wasn’t… I didn’t mean—”

She looked up slowly, still shaken, but calming.

“Kael…” she said softly.

He collapsed to his knees, fingers digging into the damp earth. His hair hung messily over his face, hiding his pale expression.

“I thought… I thought I saw someone else… just another nightmare…”

“You dreamed of your past?”

He didn’t answer. Just breathed, slow and deep.

Then Liora moved closer—cautiously, like approaching a wounded beast.

“It was just a reflex,” she said. “I’m okay. And you will be too…”

He looked at her. His golden eyes glistened, dull from pain and guilt.

“I never wanted—”

“I know,” she whispered.

She sat beside him, saying nothing more. The silence was kinder than any word could be.

Minutes passed.

Then he murmured:

“I saw someone I hated for a long time. And in the end, I realized… hate didn’t bring her back.”

She lifted her gaze. Reached for the worn sleeve of his coat, fingers brushing it gently.

“Want me to stay… until you fall asleep again?”

Kael hesitated. Then gave a small nod.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep. But… you can stay.”

She smiled—a soft, sincere smile.

“Then we’ll stay awake together.”

And so they did.
Under the shroud of night, two broken souls, stitching one another back together.