Across Eternities

Solenara's world was a palace of ivory stone and quiet gardens. Born under the faintest blush of dawn, the young princess grew up with whispers following her like shadows. "Starborne," the courtiers called her. Others, less poetic, claimed her gift was unnatural.

The first signs of that gift showed themselves when she was just five years old. After a cold, harsh winter, the palace grounds were barren, the gardens little more than an empty patch of dirt. Yet wherever Solenara walked, buds seemed to spring to life, soft green creeping after her footsteps.

By twelve, she had transformed the lifeless grounds into a sanctuary of color and fragrance. Travelers from distant kingdoms came to marvel at the palace gardens—rows of blooms so vibrant they seemed pulled from an artist's dream, with trellises that held vines heavy with fruit and flowers. It was said that even trees dead to the core would return to life with a single touch from the princess.

But if she felt pride in her work, it was nothing compared to the longing that filled her every night. As the sun sank and her gardens quieted, Solenara would climb the highest tower of the palace and sit beneath the open sky. There, she gazed at the stars with wonder and sadness, searching for something she could not name.

The stars comforted her. But they also taunted her, whispering promises of something forgotten and unreachable.

It was a quiet night like any other when she stood on her tower balcony, wrapped in the stillness of twilight. Above, the stars seemed to pulse faintly, as though their light were alive. Solenara's heart ached for reasons she didn't understand.

Her fingers tightened around the railing as a voice whispered through her mind.

Come…

Solenara gasped and spun around, her skirts brushing the cool stone. There was no one there, but the voice lingered—a soft, wordless plea that tugged at something buried deep within her.

All she could see in her mind's eye was a golden glow, shimmering faintly like the light of a distant sun.

She clutched her chest, confusion warring with the familiar longing. It wasn't the first time she'd dreamt of golden light, but this felt different.

This felt real.

"I'll find you," she murmured, though who—or what—she spoke to, she couldn't say.

The stars blinked down in answer.

---

Kaelen didn't have the luxury of stars or comfort. His world was fire and blood, sharp steel and restless shadows.

Unlike Solenara's first gentle breath, Kaelen's earliest memory in this form was violent. A harsh blow to the ribs, a scream splitting the air. Pain was his constant companion. In the rugged highlands, survival meant adapting to cruelty.

But amidst the violence, there were moments of strange reprieve. Beasts that others feared seemed to calm in his presence. Birds perched on his shoulder; even wolves followed at a safe distance as though he carried an unseen bond with the wild. When no battles called his blade, Kaelen spent his days coaxing life from the earth—his hands pressing into soil that, despite its barrenness, still offered him green shoots and stubborn roots.

It didn't make sense, but then again, nothing in Kaelen's life ever did.

At night, he often dreamt of golden light. Sometimes it was soft, gentle warmth. Other times, it was blinding, almost unbearable. The dreams left him restless, and the same voice that whispered through Solenara's heart called to him as well.

"...Why can't I see you?" he muttered into the night after waking from yet another dream. His voice cracked like the dry earth he so often wandered.

Kaelen didn't have an answer—only the feeling that someone, somewhere, was waiting for him.

But Kaelen wasn't a man who waited. He fought, he survived. Whatever truths the golden glow held, it would have to wait. His world required a sword, not a dream.

Yet, as much as he tried to bury himself in the dirt of his reality, the light refused to let him go.

---

The golden thread connecting them, unseen by their mortal eyes, grew taut.

Solenara couldn't stay away from her balcony. Her courtiers urged her to focus on matters of state—the impending treaties, the arranged marriage proposals that flooded the palace.

"I have no interest in marriage," she would answer coolly, brushing off their concerns as she returned to her tower.

When no one else was watching, however, her face softened. She wasn't cruel, just… lost. The gardens gave her peace, and yet, that same unnameable ache returned the moment she left their safety. The sky called her as it always had, but now, the pull felt stronger.

Her dreams grew stranger. It wasn't just golden light anymore—there were voices, too faint to make sense of, and flashes of unfamiliar images. A field of wildflowers. A barren plain. And… was that fire?

Solenara shivered, gripping her quilt closer as the visions refused to fade. Somewhere beyond the palace walls, her fate awaited her. That much, she was sure of.

---

Kaelen didn't know what peace looked like. Battles were his refuge, and wandering was his only constant. He was far too used to his blade slicing through chaos and carving order for himself.

But tonight, as he rested under a sky hidden by clouds, that familiar gold shimmer returned to his mind's eye.

He cursed under his breath.

"It's always you," he growled. Not at the light itself, but at the way it made him feel—restless, uncertain.

His days didn't allow him that kind of uncertainty. Between skirmishes, Kaelen barely had time to sleep or eat, let alone linger on dreams. But tonight, the faint echoes seemed different.

This time, when he closed his eyes, he saw not only light but also a faint silhouette. Faint golden strands of hair, a blurred figure walking in the distance. Kaelen didn't recognize her… and yet his heart swore it knew her.

She turned toward him, speaking words he couldn't make out. Her voice was like warm sun breaking through frozen soil, thawing something he'd buried long ago.

Kaelen bolted upright, his chest heaving. He clenched the earth beneath his fingers, grounding himself against the strange sensation threatening to overwhelm him.

But he couldn't shake it.

The feeling of someone calling to him, waiting for him, burned in his soul like a distant fire that refused to be extinguished.

"Where are you?" he whispered, though no one answered.

In her tower across the lands, Solenara stood beneath the stars and whispered the same words.