Written by Syltharos.
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In a realm where time followed its own rhythm, the lakes shimmered as clear as glass, and even at night the flowers glowed with such brilliance they appeared to have captured starlight. Elves and fairies reigned as sovereigns of the forest, and the wind served as the keeper of secrets. Here, the line between reality and fairy tale was faint; destiny was written in the whispers of the breeze and the murmur of the stars, and every being danced along the threads of time with its own melody.
At the very heart of that melody, in the center of an ancient wood, rose a solitary tower reaching toward the sky. Its roots delved deep into the earth, while its shaft seemed intent on touching the loftiest heights of heaven. When the wind brushed its stone walls, it sometimes sang a song other times a lament. This tower served as both lookout and prison. In its highest chamber lived a girl severed from the world below.
Elaria.
Her hair, golden as spun sunlight, gleamed silver under the moonlight. Her eyes, at first glance serene, revealed to any careful observer a tumult of unspoken questions, the tremor of memories long suppressed, and an inexplicable sorrow. Those eyes held a secret even she could not fully unravel.
She spent most of her days at the window, her head gently resting against the glass as she gazed into the forest's endless shadows. She watched shafts of light filtering through the branches, the quivering dance of leaves, and the ghostly silhouettes of distant birds in flight. Often, she let her thoughts wander imagining winding forest paths she could never tread, flowers she might never touch, and her hair billowing free in the wind. Sometimes those daydreams brought a smile; other times they brought tears to her eyes.
She was not truly alone in the tower, yet she might as well have been. The Witch… the woman who had raised her, tended to her, yet terrified her with warnings of the world's dangers. She was neither mother nor foe, but something unfathomable in Elaria's eyes. Her voice could be soft as silk one moment, sharp as ice the next. Her touch might be warm, then suddenly as cold as winter's breath. She told Elaria tales of the cruelty that lurked beyond these walls: the heartlessness of humankind, the perils of the forest…
But as the years passed, those stories bred suspicion rather than comfort. As Elaria herself grew, the emptiness inside her grew too. She often found herself before the mirror, staring deeply into her own eyes, asking the question that echoed louder with each sunrise: "Who… am I?"
One morning, as she awoke in the tower's hush, she started at a vision that had visited her sleep. A small child… running through a dark wood, her bare feet pounding the earth, tears streaking her cheeks. Behind her rang an angry, ominous voice: "You cannot escape!"
Screams, crashing branches, the sting of leaves whipping her face… and then that face: pale as bone, eyes as black as night. She awoke in a gasp, her heart pounding frantically. She lay still in her bed, the stones of the ceiling melting and merging with her dream. Was it merely a nightmare… or a memory?
The Witch had always warned her that the outside world was fraught with peril. But what if the greatest danger lay here, in this tower? What if those repressed memories whispered a truth opposite to what she'd been told?
That day she sat for hours before the window. Deep in the forest, something glimmered. At first glance, it was easily overlooked but to eyes trained by daily vigilance it became unmistakable: Yggdrasil. A colossal, ancient tree whose trunk glowed with starlight and whose branches spread across the entire woodland. That tree… seemed to stir a song within Elaria's soul. She remembered asking the Witch about it when she was but a child. The answer had been simple:
"Yggdrasil is the guardian of this forest and this tower. It protects you. Under its shadow, you are safe."
But now even those words felt hollow. Protection… or a shadow that kept her confined? Elaria clasped her hands over her heart, feeling it tighten. A thousand questions swirled in her mind, yet none offered an answer. Perhaps the answers lay somewhere beyond the tower walls.
One day… without a word of explanation, the Witch left the tower. Her footsteps faded up the spiral stairs and, when the door closed, its echo trembled through the halls. In that moment, Elaria realized she was alone truly, utterly alone. Her thoughts carried her into the night. When the stars emerged, she returned to the window.
She approached the stone sill with quiet steps and pressed her palm to the cold glass. Her fingertips tingled with a lonely sharpness, as cold as the night itself. She looked upward.
That night, the sky was extraordinary in its clarity. Stars glittered against the black expanse as if poised to speak to her. They gazed down from an infinite void… Had they ever seemed so close? Perhaps this was the first time she truly noticed their silent majesty.
And then a streak cleaved the heavens. A shooting star.
In that instant, a voice within her whispered, "Make a wish…"
Her heart raced. She recalled from childhood books that shooting stars carried wishes. A childish hope… yet one that now burned bright within her. She drew in a trembling breath and closed her eyes.
For the first time with such force, Elaria formed a wish in the depths of her being:
"Freedom."
"Please," she murmured into her own heart, "I want to be free."
The words sank unsaid into her soul. This wish was not merely desire, but the cry of years' worth of burdens. Freedom… she no longer remembered what it looked like, yet she yearned for it still.
Her lips twitched into something resembling a smile or was it bitter irony? She could not tell. "How foolish," she whispered. "What can I expect from a star?"
Before she could cast the thought aside, something happened.
In the forest's far edge, a light appeared slender but unwavering. It did not flicker; it did not waver. Elaria squinted. Yggdrasil.
The great tree's trunk glowed as if slicing through the night. This was no ordinary light; it was the very call itself. She felt as though the forest were whispering to her:
"Perhaps the time has come to change your fate."
A shiver ran through her. Deep in her chest, something stirred. The urge she had stifled, denied, and forgotten flared back to life like a living ember.
For years she had been bound by the same walls, the same steps, the same hush. The Witch's warnings echoed in her mind:
"The outside brings only fear. This tower is your refuge."
But now those words felt like chains rather than walls of safety. Escape was no longer a childish fantasy it had become the scream she needed to survive.
Her heart pounding, she turned back to the window. Outside was darkness. The moon hid behind clouds; the wind cooed through the branches. Yet none of that darkness felt as fearsome as her own.
She gripped the edge of the curtain. The fabric felt foreign in her hands. With trembling fingers, she began to untie it. With every knot undone, a memory surfaced a year in the tower, a season of solitude.
At last, she bound the curtains together in a sturdy rope. She fastened it securely to the window frame. It seemed the only solid thing in her life.
She drew in a deep breath and began to climb out.
Her feet found purchase on the stone sill. The wind struck her face. Her hair whipped around her as though the night itself sought to pull her back. She looked down. Below lay darkness, a bottomless void. And yet it was not more terrifying than the tower she'd escaped.
"What if I fall?"
The thought echoed through her mind but immediately another came:
"What if I stay?"
And in that moment, she decided.
She started her descent.
Each step found the curtain rope in her hands, each foot balanced on the rough stone. Her heart beat like a bird trapped in her chest. One step… then another…
Ghosts of the past whispered in her ear—the Witch's voice, the tower's silence, the echo of solitary days. Yet with every downward pull, her hope grew stronger.
Halfway down, pain began to burn in her arms. The rope cut into her skin; exhaustion claimed her muscles. Yet she pressed on. She was almost at the ground.
And then…
A slip.
The fabric gave way.
Her hands lost their grip.
A scream tore from her lips and then… darkness.
A cool touch met her skin. Rain. Soft, tentative drops kissed her face. When she opened her eyes, she saw a gray sky overhead. Clouds hung heavy but silent; no thunder rumbled.
Beneath her, the earth was damp. The scent of fresh rain struck her senses as never before. The ground… was real. Cold, wet, and alive.
Her body ached. She tested her arm—something was bruised. But she was alive.
She rose slowly. Shoulders drenched, hair matted to her skin. In that moment, nothing else mattered. She lifted her head and looked back toward the tower.
Its shadow still loomed over her, but she had stepped beyond its edge. For the first time, she was truly free.
She faced the forest's dark trees, now forming an impenetrable wall. The wind sang through the branches, amplifying her lingering fear.
Yet… something called to her. A summons she could neither name nor explain.
She stood and, though her legs trembled, took a step. Then another. Rain soaked her clothes, but she did not care. She pressed onto the sodden grass.
From this point, there was no turning back.
She was afraid. A thousand shadows stirred within her. And yet another force pulsed through her veins hope. Fragile but unyielding.
As she penetrated the forest, leaves rustled around her steps. The silence no longer suffocated her; it embraced her. Everything was wrapped in an unfamiliar peace.
She caught on a thorny vine. Her skin cut; pain lanced through her. But that pain felt more meaningful than the tower's silence.
Then, in a moment's lapse…
Her footing slipped. The ground was slick. Her ankle gave way, and she fell. She struck a stone with her ribs; breath left her.
She tried to rise, dizziness spinning her vision. Then… movement.
A figure emerged from the darkness. Shifting shadows revealed someone approaching. Elaria held her breath. Her heart surged into her throat.
Fear… but something else, too.
The figure drew near; dim light still obscured its face. Then the hush broke.
"Are you all right?" came a voice calm, gentle, yet cautious.
Elaria lifted her head. Wounded, frightened, but still upright. Her gaze met the stranger's. Not only fear stirred in her eyes, but something soft, flickering in the depths. In that instant, she knew that her first step beyond the tower walls had not just carried her into the unknown…
It had become the beginning of a destiny forever altered.
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