Third Night
The Secret Garden, Old Willcraft Stone Circle
The night breeze carried the scent of aged roses, signaling the passage of time and evoking memories of lost moments. The full moon hung overhead like an all-seeing eye watching from the sky, silently witnessing every event unfolding beneath its soft, luminous glow.
Fitran stood at the edge of the stone circle he had seen two days ago. This time, candles were placed on each stone, their flames shimmering in shades of blue-green—a color of ancient magic.
Beside him, Sheena wore a silver gown adorned with black lace. The Caereth family emblem dangled from her necklace, yet her expression was resolute, no longer hiding any doubt.
Tonight... they were calling upon the will that writes their fate.
Sheena stepped into the circle. The carvings on the stones began to glow.
As her foot crossed the threshold, an unusual cold enveloped them—not just any cold, but a time-frozen chill, as if the circle separated them from the outside world. Within this boundary, time, meaning, and will became fluid concepts, blurring the lines between reality and dreams as they stood on the precipice of transformation.
Fitran stared at Sheena, his eyes filled with hope buried deep within his soul. "Sheena," he said softly, "are you truly ready for this? This call cannot be undone. Once summoned, Veyrundis will come." Memories of their first discussion about this ritual flooded back, showcasing the clash between fear and desire, as if the two potent emotions were locked in a battle for control over their very souls.
Sheena raised her hands. Her fingers trembled, not out of fear, but because she was finally making a choice that could alter the course of their lives. Because in the end... she chose. "I know this decision is heavy, but this is my path. We can no longer avoid our fate." Her voice quivered, reflecting the tension and opposing convictions brewing within her heart.
"I am starting the Rite of Binding." Her voice was clear, even as the wind tried to snatch her words away.
"I, Sheena Valtheris Elyndra Caereth, call upon Veyrundis, the Wielder of Will." She tilted her head towards the moon, as if seeking approval from the heavens.
Fitran gripped the hilt of his sword, feeling the weight of the emotional pressure. "Sheena, if the goal is to change our destinies, are you prepared for the consequences? When Veyrundis arrives, there is no turning back." Doubt flickered in his eyes, further intensified by his deep love for Sheena, adding gravity to his words, as if reminding her that love cannot be separated from risk.
"There is no journey without risk," Sheena replied firmly. "We fight through obstacles, and I wouldn't choose any other way. We will find freedom, together." A single tear rolled down her cheek, yet she smiled, her determination shining brighter than a burning candle.
Sheena began to recite an ancient incantation. Her words crackled, echoing from an era before modern language. Proto-Speech.
"Veyrundis, Veyrun...
Fitran gripped the hilt of his sword. Excalibur did not shine tonight. This was not a battlefield for steel; it was a battlefield for meaning.
Sheena continued her incantation, again channeling the ancient language. Her voice echoed like a reminiscence from a time long lost. Proto-Speech.
"Veyrundis, Veyrundis, qui donum voluntatis et pretium pacis," she continued, her voice resonating with ancient power.
(Veyrundis, Veyrundis, who grants the gift of will and the price of peace, the ruler of the bridge between our worlds and the ancient will.)
The wind grew still.
The candlelight extinguished one by one.
From the darkness, a black mist rose. This was no ordinary fog. The mist was filled with whispers. Voices without language, without faces, yet brimming with meanings that pierced the heart.
"Who calls upon the ancient will?"
The voice echoed without sound. Not in the air, but in their minds.
"Who dares to challenge the price that has been written?"
Sheena stood tall. "I do."
Fitran stepped forward. "And I. I am the bearer of its will."
In an instant, Fitran's gaze shifted to Sheena, his eyes reflecting deep concern. "Sheena," he said softly, "I know how much this means to you. But are you ready to face the consequences? This curse is no trivial matter." A silence filled the space between them, awaiting the unspoken answer.
The fog swirled, taking shape. Tall. Indistinct. Like a floating black cloth, yet sometimes forming faces from the past. The faces of kings, servants, children, even a golden bird—everyone who had ever been touched by Sheena's curse.
Veyrundis.
"Why do you summon me again, descendant of Caereth?"
Sheena took a breath. "I want to end this curse. I want to choose the meaning of my own life."
Fitran felt his heart tighten, a palpable fear washing over him. "Sheena, you are the hope for my kingdom. If you fail, it won't just be you who suffers; all of Elysvarre will plunge into darkness, a darkness I dread. I don't want to lose you," he said, his tone imbued with tension, as if conveying the ominous threat of impending doom that loomed over them.
Sheena looked at Fitran, her eyes reflecting a mix of pride and sorrow. "Understand this, Fitran, two bodies cannot pay for one soul if we do not unite. We must face this together. This curse is not solely my burden; it belongs to both of us. We confront this not just as individuals, but as one." She extended her hand, waiting for Fitran to take it.
Finally, Fitran grasped Sheena's hand, feeling the pulse of strength within it. "Alright," he said. "If we must endure this, then we will do it together. Two bodies, one soul."
The wind howled more fiercely. A sigh created ripples in the air, signaling that their decision had reached Veyrundis, and the fog thickened, making the moment increasingly urgent.
"Choices have a cost. Your curse is the price your ancestors agreed upon. The price for the prosperity of a thousand years of Elysvarre. If you decline... who will pay?"
Sheena trembled. "I will. If necessary, I will pay with my life."
"But your kingdom will fall."
"Better to fall in honesty... than to stand upon death."
Veyrundis turned towards Fitran.
"And you, human who is not of Caereth blood. Why do you interfere?"
Fitran did not back down.
"Because I care for her."
Silence.
The wind stopped.
Even the fog froze.
"If that's the case," Veyrundis's voice deepened, "I offer this. I will transfer Sheena's curse to you. She will be free. But you will become the new bearer of the golden will."
"If you refuse, then the old contract remains in effect."
Fitran gazed at Sheena, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "Are you willing to see me bear this curse? Are you truly sure I can take on such a monumental burden?" His voice carried both love and concern.
Tears streamed down Sheena's cheeks, her heart shattered. "Don't. Don't do this. You don't deserve to bear this weight," she said, sobbing, feeling the injustice of a world that forced her beloved to take such a great risk.
Fitran shook his head. "This isn't about whether I deserve it. This is about choice." He stepped closer, his eyes filled with determination. "You are a part of my soul, Sheena. This curse isn't just yours; it's also mine now. We can face everything together."
He turned towards Veyrundis.
"But I want to negotiate."
"Negotiate?"
"Yes. If I become the new bearer of the will, I want to redefine the meaning of this curse."
"No one can rewrite the old will."
Sheena held Fitran's hand tightly. "Whatever the consequences, I don't want you trapped in this darkness alone." Her voice trembled, expressing deep concern.
Fitran smiled gently. "Don't worry, Sheena. In every sacrifice, there is strength. I will not let the darkness consume us. Together, we will rewrite this destiny." His voice was filled with conviction, as if drawing in all the fear that lingered in the air.
"If your will is so strong," Veyrundis replied, his tone sharp, "then be prepared to face the consequences."
Fitran resolutely prepared himself, speaking in the ancient language imbued with magical nuances, "By the forgotten names and the dormant power, I bind myself to bear this burden. If the curse is the price for it, then I am willing to pay in full."
"And what do you offer in return?" Veyrundis challenged, his eyes shining with the reflection of the full moon's power.
Fitran cleared his throat amid the tense silence, feeling the weight of the decision pressing heavily upon him. "I will fight for a better world, to shatter the chains that bind us. We will recreate Elysvarre, free from the curse that has shackled our land for centuries," he declared, his spirit rising as he reached for Sheena's trembling essence, reigniting the nearly extinguished hope with renewed courage that surged within them.
Veyrundis fell silent, caught between the choices laid before him.
Fitran smiled. "Maybe. But my will is also the will of the past. I was not born from emptiness. I inherit a will that does not submit to price."
He drew Excalibur.
His sword did not shine. But the engravings on the blade—symbols of free will—glimmered.
"I do not atone. I do not replace. I choose."
For a moment, the atmosphere grew tense. Fitran felt the tension between them, as if an invisible thread connected his soul to Sheena's. He gazed deeply into her eyes and said, "Sheena, even in darkness, I want you to know I will always stand by your side."
Veyrundis trembled. His mist formed a whirlpool.
"If you want to rewrite the meaning of the curse, prove your will. I will test you."
Sheena felt the flow of energy between them, caught in the tension of hope and uncertainty as she bit her lip. "Fitran, this world cannot be separated from what has happened. We are all cursed by our choices."
The circle of stones shattered. The ground beneath them turned liquid—an obsidian mirror.
From that mirror emerged golden creatures: all those who had been cursed by Sheena. Golden birds. Golden children. Faces that once had turned into death.
A wave of sorrow washed over Fitran as he recognized those unfamiliar yet familiar faces. "Sheena, we cannot let them become mere shadows of what they once were," he said gently, filled with hope. "We can free them."
They moved, like puppets.
Fitran closed his eyes and took a deep breath, envisioning the power flowing through his hands. In his mind, he recalled their promises, all the plans they had made before the curse took everything away. "Listen, Sheena," he said amidst the chilling atmosphere. "Every one of these beings has a story that needs to be told."
Sheena nodded, her heart racing. "We need to find a way, Fitran. We cannot let the old will take control of us."
In the distance, Veyrundis's voice echoed like thunder. "Remember! The choice is yours. Free them or destroy them!"
He gripped his sword tightly; the power within them dimmed, but the determination between them shone brightly.
"To kill them means to free their meaning. Or let them be, and the curse remains."
Sheena screamed, "No! They are victims, not enemies!"
Fitran stood between Sheena and the creatures. Within his soul, he felt the heavy burden of the choice he had to make.
Fitran's voice rang clear and resolute, "I will not kill them. They deserve a chance at redemption, not death."
Sheena shook her head, her eyes filled with hope. "But what do you want, Fitran?"
"Then you fail."
"No. I will reach out to them. I will prove that will can change without violence."
With a firm tone, Fitran continued, "Courage is not just about fighting, but about understanding. They are not merely cursed beings; they are a part of us." He looked at Sheena, "I need you to believe in me."
Sheena held her breath, feeling hope battling against her fear. "I believe in you, Fitran. Follow your heart."
Fitran stepped forward, a gentle light radiating from his sincere heart.
He touched one of the creatures—an entity of gold.
Fitran's hand shimmered.
And... the gold did not change. But the creature closed its eyes. A smile appeared on its face. Then it dissolved into light.
The meaning transformed, without violence, without cost, shifting from the shackles of a curse to the light of liberation that awaits ahead.
Sheena could feel the change in the air, a warmth flowing as the creatures began to vibrate.
"Look! They are responding!" Sheena cried, her voice igniting Fitran's spirit.
Fitran turned to her, his smile offering hope. "This is the first step. We must dare to hope."
One by one, Fitran touched the golden creatures. Each transformation turned them into light, symbolizing the strength and sincerity of newfound hope. With every touch, he felt the flowing energy, a bond connecting him with these beings, affirming that the weaknesses of the past were now strengths. As the mists of Veyrundis trembled, ancient voices whispered:
"Those who do not choose power. Those who choose meaning over price. Those who write with action, not blood."
Fitran gazed at the emerging light, as if taking on a new form from a forgotten vision. "Sheena, look! This is not just about us. It's about giving them hope to return."
The mists of Veyrundis shrank, preparing to welcome back the imprisoned souls. "You are not alone on this journey, Fitran. Together, many can be saved," Sheena said with conviction.
Again, one by one, Fitran touched the golden creatures, each one turning into light once more. The mists of Veyrundis trembled again as ancient voices whispered:
"Those who do not choose power. Those who choose meaning over price. Those who write with action, not blood."
Veyrundis shrank, becoming merely a shadow.
"The curse of Sheena does not end tonight. However, its meaning has changed. It is no longer a burden that kills; it has become a reminder that free will can always be chosen anew."
Fitran held Sheena's hand this time, without fear.
"Sheena," he said softly, his voice trembling, "listen to me. Every decision we make reflects who we truly are."
He gazed into her hopeful eyes, the essence of their bond palpable. "We have the power to change our destiny. Together, are you willing to step forward with me into the unknown?"
And her skin did not turn to gold.
Miracle? No. Choice.
Veyrundis vanished, leaving only the last whisper:
"Choice is the highest will."
Under the moonlight, Sheena wept.
Not out of despair.
But for the first time since childhood, she could touch someone without fear... and without causing death, alongside the memories of the past.
Fitran embraced her.
"I didn't save you," he whispered. "I simply chose to stand by your side."
Sheena nodded, tears streaming down her face. "And I choose to no longer remain silent."
In that embrace, they felt a pulse of new life. It was as if the world around them resonated in harmony never known to them before. As the flow of light dimmed, they both inhaled the profound silence.
"Fitran," Sheena's voice was soft, "I don't want to be a burden. I want to be part of something greater."
Fitran took a deep breath, his heart racing. "We can be together. If you agree, we will write a new story—one filled with hope, no longer bound by our past."
He gazed at her with resolute eyes. "I want to embrace the meaning you bring. Together, we can create light."
It was as if his response was a spell, a bond connecting their souls. The light around them shimmered brighter with the promise that had been spoken.
"This book may have been penned in the blood of many unfortunate souls," he said, "but we can write new pages filled with hope and courage. Will you join me on this transformative adventure that will create new meaning in our lives?"
"Yes, Fitran. As long as there's light, I will join you on this journey."
Welcome to new horizons, where Sheena's love and meaning intertwine inseparably.