Elena fell deeper into sleep…
and the dream that followed was not misty or blurred.
It was clear. Sharp. Real.
As if she was seeing a memory from another life—
her own life.
The world around her formed into a large ceremonial hall glowing with silver light.
Hundreds of floating screens displayed the scene outward to the Valley.
People stood in every street watching breathlessly.
And Elena—
or the past version of her—
stood in the center of it all.
---
THE PREPARATION
Women surrounded her, whispering excitedly, nervously.
"She's the chosen one…"
"She matched the Commander…"
"A human—how is this possible?"
"She must be careful… the ceremony will decide everything."
Clara from the past was there too, younger, hair braided, eyes shining.
She carried folded clothing and bowed.
"These are the marriage garments, my lady."
Elena looked down at herself.
She was dressed in white—
but not a gown.
White slit pants, soft and flowing, slits running high up both sides, revealing long, smooth legs.
A white tube top, fitted snugly around her chest.
Pure. Clean. Simple.
The attire of an ancient bonding ritual.
The women adorned her hair with silver threads and soft light crystals that glowed like stars.
She felt nervous.
Barefoot. Bare skin. Bare soul.
Clara smiled softly. "Don't be afraid. The Commander chose you."
Elena wasn't sure if she meant to comfort—or remind.
She was then guided toward the enormous ceremonial platform.
---
THE CROWD & THE COMMANDER
Elena stepped into blinding light.
The Valley erupted.
On giant screens outside the hall, she saw herself walking—
seen by thousands
in 20,000 towns
people filling plazas, rooftops, halls
all watching her marriage.
The murmur of the crowd echoed like thunder.
"It's her…"
"She's the chosen mate…"
"A human?"
"Isn't that impossible?"
"The Commander must have gone mad…"
"No, his Core chose—there was a spark!"
"She will be our Queen."
Then she saw him.
Aren.
Standing at the altar.
Wearing only ceremonial black pants—
his chest bare, glowing with markings of fire, lightning, and light.
His body radiant with elemental power.
His eyes locked onto her immediately.
The entire world seemed to exhale.
He walked toward her with slow, deliberate steps—
the way storms move across mountains.
His hand reached out.
Elena's dream-self trembled but placed her hand in his.
Warm.
Strong.
Possessive.
Aren exhaled softly, as if steadying himself.
"Come," he murmured.
He guided her to stand beside him at the altar.
---
THE CEREMONY BEGINS
The Elder Priest stepped forward—
robes glowing with ancient runes.
He lifted a ceremonial blade forged of energy.
"In the Valley of Light," he intoned,
"a bond is formed by Core and soul.
By blood and energy.
By destiny."
The crowd fell silent.
The Priest took Aren's wrist first.
He made a small cut—
a line of pure elemental energy spilled out, glowing blue-white, bright enough to hurt Elena's eyes.
People gasped.
"So powerful…"
"His Core is overwhelming!"
"No one ever matched him!"
Then the Priest turned to Elena.
She did not flinch.
He sliced a small line on her wrist.
A drop of green-white energy leaked out—
weaker
gentler
but alive.
The Priest pressed their wrists together.
Aren held her firmly, gently, correcting her angle, steadying her hand with his larger one.
"Elena," he murmured, "breathe."
She did.
The Priest spoke:
"Let the energies merge."
Aren's Core glowed.
Elena's Core trembled.
Then—
BOOM.
A blue-white light burst upward—
so bright the entire hall gasped.
People screamed.
"WHAT—"
"Impossible—!"
"It's matching!"
"Commander's energy—she's resonating with it!"
"Look—the light!"
"A perfect bond!"
"A TRUE mate!"
Elena's hand shook as the energy swirled around them, binding, merging.
Aren's eyes never left her.
His expression was unreadable—
shock, awe, fear, relief, possession
all tangled.
The light wrapped around their wrists
around their bodies
around their hearts.
The Priest stumbled back, overwhelmed.
"The cores… they MATCH…" he whispered.
His voice echoed—
amplified through every screen in the Valley.
"THEY ARE TRUE MATES!"
The Valley erupted into roars of disbelief and celebration.
Aren stepped close, lowering his forehead to hers.
"Elena," he whispered softly, fiercely,
"It's done."
The Elder Priest raised his staff.
"By the ancient laws," he proclaimed,
"by Core, soul, and fate—
I declare Aren Voss and Elena of the Ancients—
Bonded.
Joined.
Married for life."
Aren exhaled slowly.
His thumb brushed her wrist where the cuts healed instantly into identical glowing marks.
"You're mine now," he murmured, so quietly only she could hear.
"And I am yours."
Elena's dream-self's heart raced.
The world around them faded—
light dissolving
voices melting
memories unraveling.
As Elena drifted deeper into sleep,
she heard Aren's voice echo one last time from the memory—
"I chose you long before I knew your name."