Silent Harmony

As they rode out of the forest, the last light of the setting sun broke through the trees, painting streaks of gold and amber across the clearing. Shadows stretched long and soft beneath the branches, and the air carried that fragile stillness that comes just before nightfall. Every rustle of leaves, every distant birdcall, seemed to echo the quiet tension that had followed them from the forest.

Liora sat in front of Arlen, nestled in his protective embrace, her fingers lightly brushing the edge of his cloak. She could feel the steady warmth of his body beneath her, the subtle rhythm of his heartbeat. It grounded her, yet also made her pulse quicken in ways she hadn’t expected.

Waiting at the edge were Saira and Kael. Liora stiffened, but Arlen spoke softly over her shoulder. “Don’t worry. They’re friends.”

Saira and Kael stared in stunned silence. It was the first time either of them had seen a vilinka — even though Arlen’s cloak draped around her, hiding most of her features.

Kael, naturally, couldn’t hold his tongue. “Now I see why the forest kept calling you back.”

“Kael, don’t start,” Arlen said, voice calm but firm. The faint flush creeping up his neck betrayed him, though Liora, still safe in his embrace, didn’t notice.

Saira and Kael exchanged a brief, knowing smile. They weren’t entirely sure what Liora felt for him, but there was no doubt in their minds about Arlen’s feelings toward her.

The forest thinned as they rode, the soft rustle of leaves giving way to rolling hills and the distant spires of Lyria’s kingdom. Liora leaned slightly into Arlen, her hand still brushing against his as they moved in silent rhythm. Every sway of the horse, every soft thump of hooves against the earth, seemed to echo the quiet pulse of her own heart.

“Almost there,” he murmured, his voice gentle, reassuring. She nodded, her heart quickening with anticipation.

They rode up to Arlen’s small cottage, a quaint, unfamiliar place that made Liora tense and alert. Every step, every sway of the horse, made her heart beat faster, the strangeness of the surroundings pressing on her. Yet, despite her unease, she felt a small measure of safety simply because Arlen was there, his presence steady and sure.

Saira was the first to jump down, hurrying toward the house. Inside, Elara rested peacefully, oblivious to the world outside.

Arlen and Kael dismounted, calming their horses. Arlen reached out his hand to Liora. She took it without hesitation, trusting him completely, and stepped down, her small weight pressed slightly against his arm.

Saira emerged from the cottage, speaking softly. “She’s asleep…”

Arlen nodded. “Good.” Liora stayed quiet, clinging silently to the reassurance his presence gave her. Neither Kael nor Saira pushed her to speak.

Arlen turned to Kael and Saira. “Thank you, both of you.”

Kael nodded, and Saira added with a warm smile, glancing at Liora, “Tomorrow we continue. I’m looking forward to getting to know you better.”

Liora gave a small, quiet nod, feeling the pull of Arlen’s hand as her anchor. He led her gently toward the cottage, and she let herself follow without a word.

“Quiet now,” Arlen whispered softly, glancing toward the dimly lit corner where Elara slept peacefully. “We mustn’t wake her.”

Liora’s gaze softened, and she nodded again, her voice no more than a breath. “Of course.”

Arlen guided Liora slowly toward the bed, his hand still holding hers. It was his bed, but he offered it to her without hesitation. Around it, the curtains were drawn just enough to give her privacy — a small space for her alone in the tiny cottage. He knelt and spread a blanket on the floor nearby, another over it so he could lie comfortably without disturbing her. The gesture was quiet and unassuming, but Liora felt it deeply — even if she couldn’t see him, she could sense his presence, the careful thought behind each movement.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, she whispered softly, “Thank you…”

“You don’t need to thank me. Somehow… it feels right,” Arlen replied, his voice low and steady, carrying through the thin curtain.

As she drew the blankets around herself, Liora felt a comforting weight in the room — not visible, but undeniably there. She sensed every small motion he made, every careful breath, and it grounded her, letting her tension slip away.

Behind the curtain, Arlen watched her settle. She’s finally letting herself relax… he thought, feeling a rare tug of relief mixed with something warmer he didn’t bother naming. I’ll keep her safe tonight. Whatever it takes.

Even separated by fabric, a silent understanding passed between them. Liora felt the presence of someone watching over her, patient and steady, and for the first time in days, she allowed herself to sink into sleep with trust, not fear.

Arlen sat on the floor beside the bed, his back against the wall. The curtain between them hid her from view, but he could hear the soft rustle of the blankets as she settled. The room was small, lit only by the faint glow of the dying fire.

Liora lay still for a while, staring into the dim light filtering through the fabric. She could sense him there — close, steady, real. For the first time in what felt like forever, she truly felt safe, even surrounded by four walls.

Her voice came so quietly it almost blended with the crackle of the embers. “Arlen…”

He lifted his head at once, his tone gentle. “I’m here, Liora. Do you need anything?”

There was a pause, soft as a breath. She hesitated, then answered, “Just checking.”

A faint smile touched his lips, though she couldn’t see it. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I’m here. Not going anywhere.”

Liora exhaled, the last trace of tension leaving her body. Behind the curtain, Arlen leaned his head back against the wall, listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing as the quiet night folded around them both.

Liora’s breathing soon grew slow and even, her presence a quiet rhythm behind the curtain. Arlen sat still on the floor, the firelight flickering softly across the room. Sleep should have come easily, yet his mind refused to rest.

He knew this peace wouldn’t last. He rubbed his face with one hand, trying to push the thought aside. The warmth of the room was comforting, but beneath it, something cold and uneasy stirred in his chest.

Then — faintly, like a breath against his ear — came a whisper.

Wake up.

His eyes snapped open, his pulse quickening. He looked around, but the room was still. The fire crackled softly, Liora murmured something in her sleep, and the night outside held its breath.

He exhaled slowly, telling himself he must have imagined it. Too little sleep, too much worry. But the whisper lingered, echoing somewhere deep in his mind.

Wake up.

He stared into the dying flames, unease creeping into his bones. Whatever it was, he didn’t understand it — not yet.

Dawn crept softly into the small cottage, brushing pale light across the wooden floor. The fire had long faded, leaving only a faint warmth in the air. Arlen stirred before the sun had fully risen. He glanced toward the curtained bed — quiet, still — then quietly stood, careful not to wake her.

He dressed in silence, tightening his belt and glancing once more toward the curtain. Liora needed clothes, something simple to blend in — and shoes. Definitely shoes. The thought made the corner of his mouth lift slightly as he reached for his cloak. Then he stepped outside, the early air crisp and bright, and headed toward the market.

Inside, Liora shifted in her half-sleep, caught between dreams and waking. The world felt lighter, as if something inside her was stirring — answering a call she couldn’t ignore.

I have to blend in… I have to become one of them.

Her voice, soft and almost dreamlike, filled the air around her. A faint shimmer appeared over the bed — gentle, golden light curling through the curtain like breath. It grew stronger, wrapping around her form until the glow filled the small space.

When it faded, the magic settled like dust in the morning light. On the bed lay not the ethereal figure from the forest, but a human girl — her hair still glinting faintly in the sun, her features softer, ordinary, and unmistakably mortal.

For the first time since she had crossed into this world, Liora looked like she truly belonged.