The first rays of dawn painted the sky in hues of rose and gold as Calithar carried Elena through the shimmering sky that shone a soft light on them. Her weight was light in his arms and he felt her dark hair spilling over his arm like a cascade of water. Her breaths were shallow, and her face, even in unconsciousness, held a quiet beauty that stirred something deep within him. He tightened his hold on her as he stepped into the grand courtyard of his palace.
The palace loomed before them in the early morning sun, bathed in it's warm hues and soft light. Its walls gleamed with gold and cream, unlike the stark, shadowed stone of Zerethane's fortress. Towers spiraled toward the sky catching the light, giving it the image of heaven. The air was thick with the scent of blooming jasmine and the distant hum of honeybees.
At once, a cluster of maids rushed forward as though they had been waiting for his command. They were dressed in cream and pale gold with white aprons covering the front. Calithar's voice carried both authority and gentleness as he handed Elena into their care.
"Prepare her chambers. She will need rest, and she is not to be disturbed until she wakes on her own."
"Yes, my lord," the women said in unison, bowing slightly before proceeding to take Elena carefully from his hands.
"Take her upstairs," Calithar instructed, his tone softer now as he glanced down at Elena. "Bathe her, dress her in something comfortable, and ensure she rests. She's been through much."
"What room shall we put her in, your highness?" asked the head maid with her head bowed.
"The one where the view of the Katharian greenery comes to sight." The other maids behind her stiffened up. The room was always left unavailable although it was cleaned daily. That very room came in the same quarters as the king's chambers. No one else was ever allowed to stay there.
"Yes, my lord," the eldest maid, the woman with grey-streaked hair, replied. She gestured for the others to follow, and they gently took Elena from his arms. Calithar lingered for a moment, watching as they carried her up the sweeping staircase and her form disappeared into the upper corridors of the palace. A strange tightness gripped his chest, but he pushed it aside, turning to attend to matters of his kingdom.
..........
Elena awoke to the soft caress of sunlight filtering through the velvet curtains. Her body ached faintly, reminding her of the sudden pain she had felt before she passed out. The bed beneath her was a lush of silk and warmth and she found herself snuggling closer to it.
Then she blinked, disoriented as her eyes scanned around the unfamiliar room. The ceiling was arched high above, painted with delicate frescoes of the sun shining among clouds. The walls shimmered faintly, as if infused with starlight, and the air carried a faint sweetness, like honey and wildflowers.
Where was she?
Her mind scrambled to piece together the fragments of memory. She remembered feeling a massive amount of pain but that was it. She sat up slowly, trying to remember what had actually happened. A faint memory of rushing wind filled her memory and she jerked.
Did...did he carry her here?!
Elena felt a blush creep up her face. Wait, did he undress me?!
Her fingers brushed against the soft linen gown she now wore. It was a pale shade of lavender that complemented her skin tone perfectly. Had he really...
"Calithar," she murmured, falling face down into her pillow. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, feeling the cool marble floor with her feet. The room was silent except for the distant chirping of the birds in front of the window.
'Where am I ?' The thought that he had actually undressed her sent a flutter through her chest and a soft ache.
Driven by curiosity and a need to calm herself, Elena slipped out of the room. The corridor stretched endlessly, lined with ornate tapestries and vases overflowing with vibrant blooms. She wandered off with her bare feet tapping lightly on the floor. Her eyes widened as she took in the grandeur of the place. It was nothing like Zerethane's cold, prison like halls.
This place felt alive, warm, as if it thriving with the heartbeat of heaven itself. The air was laced with an ethereal glow that made her feel as though she'd stepped into a dream.
She descended a spiral staircase, trailing her hand smoothly along the smooth golden banister, and emerged into a courtyard bursting with color. Lush gardens sprawled before her with roses and lilies that shimmered as if dusted with dew lining their paths. Beyond the gardens, she turned around and faced the grand building.
This wasn't the cabin, this was a freaking palace!
He had taken her to his palace!
White stone buildings with domed roofs carved themselves into what made up the palace. From where she stood, she could see other grand buildings spiraling into the distance. It was a paradise, a stark contrast to the shadowed world she'd left behind.
Lost in her thoughts, Elena didn't notice the figure approaching until a huge shadow fell across her path. She turned around startled, and found herself face-to-face with Calithar. His presence carried that same commanding air and his silver blue hair caught the morning light, glistening marvelously on his head.
He had a traditional attire of a bright yellow, long sleeved jacket that tightened firmly around his waist paired with black pants.
His eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her breath catch before slowly trailing down her body.
Calithar's brows furrowed slightly, drawing themselves into a frown.
"Elena," he said with his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "You're awake."
Instinctively, she dropped into a curtsy, bowing her head low. "My lord," she said, her cheeks flushing red as she realized how formal she sounded.
Calithar looked at her for a second more before bursting into a soft laughter. It echoed beautifully from his throat almost musical, and it sent a shiver through her. "There's no need for that, Elena. You are a royal yourself." He stepped closer and extended his hand to help her rise. "Come, walk with me."
He waved his hand at a maid who was carrying a tray of linen. She immediately raced towards him, dropping to her knees.
"Go get the lady some shoes from the dressing parlor." He then looked down at her feet. "...size thirty-two."
"Yes, your highness." the maid answers curtly before dashing from his presence. Under a few minutes, she arrived with a pair of black, laced shoes and helped her put it on.
Calithar stretched out his arm but she hesitated before linking her arms in his. His touch was warm and for a moment, she forgot the world beyond this kingdom. "I... I didn't know where I was," she admitted as they crossed the courtyard into the gardens.
"This place...your palace...it's beautiful."
"I'm glad you like it," he said simply, leading her down a path lined with blooming cherry trees. "A sanctuary of peace and serenity...who wouldn't love it?."
Elena chuckled lightly at his joke. They walked in companionable silence, taking in the morning air filled with the rustle of leaves and the distant murmur of a lake. Elena stole glances at Calithar, noting the way his expression softened as he spoke of his kingdom. There was a warmth to him, a kindness that felt at odds with the kind of power he wielded.
"You must be hungry," he said suddenly, stopping beneath a canopy of vines heavy with grapes. "The maids should have prepared something for you."
"I'm fine," she said, though her stomach betrayed her with a faint rumble. She laughed, embarrassedly covering her face with her palms.
"Come," he said with a grin, gesturing toward a small pavilion nestled a few metres from the greenery. A table awaited them, laden with light snacks of freshly baked bread, honey-drizzled fruits, and delicate pastries that melted on her tongue. They sat, and Elena found herself relaxing in his presence. He spoke of his kingdom's history, of the magic that sustained it, and she listened, captivated by everything. It didn't even occur to her that she was talking to a king about such mundane matters.
But as the afternoon wore on, a subtle tension crept into their interactions. His gaze never left her face, smiling warmly that made her heart stutter whenever she caught him looking at her. He reached to brush a stray lock of hair from her face, before lightly cupping her cheeks. She felt a spark both thrilling and yet unsettling her.
"You're different, Elena," he said quietly after watching her eat for some time. "... you're just as beautiful and radiant as before."
She looked away shyly and her thoughts drifted back to Damien. The memory of tugged at her heart. Even though he hadn't been the exact definition of an average husband, he still risked his life to protect her more than twice. Yet here, in Calithar's kingdom, surrounded by beauty and his quiet kindness, she felt more at ease than with him.
Was it right being happy here in this paradise when he could be somewhere suffering?
Could she let go of the shadows that tied her to Damien?
..........
Far from the golden halls of Calithar's kingdom, Damien sat in the dim light of the cavern with his chest fully bare. His breathing had stabilized and the pain had reduced to a bearable amount.
Morrigan stood over him with her hands crossed over her chest as she looked down at him. A black branch like pattern that seemed to erupt from beneath his stomach, spread throughout his chest.
"It's worse," Morrigan said with a slight frown in her face. "Your blood is already impure, your highness. The corruption will only feed on it, and it will only grow stronger unless you act fast."
Damien's jaw tightened, his fists clenching against the stone floor. " So what do you suggest?"
She sighed, wiping her hands on a cloth. "You need a source of pure blood to cleanse yours. Without it, the corruption will consume you. You'll lose yourself your mind, your soul and become nothing better than those rogues that corrupted you."
He laughed bitterly, the sound echoing in the cavern. "Pure blood. You're saying that's the only thing that can save me, aren't you?"
The healer's silence was answer enough. He had known about his corrupted blood ever since the curse took effect on him as a child. Ever since then, he had waited for centuries on end for the one with blood pure enough to cleanse his.
Now...she was nowhere to be found...
Her name burned in his chest, a mixture of longing and frustration erupting within him. He'd spent three days with Severin, only to return to the palace with nothing but this grim diagnosis.
As he stumbled back to his chambers, the palace felt emptier than ever. The halls, once filled with Elena's presence now echoed with her absence. He paused by her room which had the door ajar, and had a fleeting glimpse in his mind's eye. It was of Elena, standing in a the midst of flowers with a bright smile on her face.
The vision struck him like a blade, sharp and cold. A sudden pang of longing struck him next and he gripped the doorframe as his heart pounded with a mix of anger and fear. Was she slipping away, drawn into a world he could never touch?
"Elena," he whispered, his voice breaking. He had to find her. He had to bring her back not just for his own survival, but because the thought of losing her was a wound deeper than any corruption could inflict.
...........
Back in Calithar's kingdom, the sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the gardens. Elena and Calithar sat by the lake watching the water reflect the fiery hues of the sunset. The air had grown cooler, and she shivered, pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders.
"You're cold," Calithar said, his voice gentle. He shrugged off his cloak and draped it over her, grabbing her shoulders lightly for a moment. "Better?"
She nodded, her cheeks warming up in pink. "Thank you. You've been... kinder than I expected."
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Did you think of me a monster?"
"No," she said quickly, then laughed. "Well, maybe a little at first when I first saw you in that river. You're... intimidating."
"Intimidating?" He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "That's new. I'm known as the most righteous king that ever ruled." he said with a prideful smirk."
His expression softened and he shifted closer to her. For a moment, she thought he might lean closer but he pulled back, his smile tinged with something unreadable. "That's still left for you to decide, Elena."
She thought of Damien again and then of Calithar. They were two very opposite beings that she had never anticipated to encounter in her life.
As night fell, Calithar escorted her back to the palace, walking slowly beside each other as if neither wanted the day to end. At her door, he paused before turning to face her. "Rest well, Elena," he said. "Tomorrow, I'll show you more of the kingdom. If you wish."
She nodded and forced a smile. "I'd like that."
As she lay in bed, staring at the starlit ceiling, her thoughts drifted back to were Damien. She didn't know why she kept thinking of him so much lately
Was he alright? Her mind then flashed back to Seraphine.
She hadn't seen her since the fight at Veylar. Were they still in Veylar with that demonic king? Did he capture them?
She shuddered at the thought. No, Seraphine should have saved him...right?
Elena rolled over to the other side of the bed with that thought in mind.
If that were true, then there was no way out of this place.
Not like she wanted to leave in the first place...