Nefeli traversed through the magnificent castle grounds under the cloak of night, her steps echoing softly against the cobblestone paths.
Above, a celestial tapestry adorned the sky, a canvas painted with a myriad of stars that flickered like distant lanterns.
Tall towers of stone rose in silhouette against the indigo backdrop, their secrets veiled in the obscurity of darkness.
Her fingers glided over the velvety petals of nocturnal blooms in the palace garden, each blossom a delicate shade of silver and ivory, their fragrance heightened by the cool night air.
The beauty of the garden momentarily distracted her from the tumultuous thoughts within, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow over the scene.
Eventually, she found herself at the stables, where Roach and Fenrir languished in the tranquil embrace of the night.
Moonbeams danced on their sleek coats, transforming them into shadowy spectres in the quiet.
Side by side, they grazed on golden wheat, the rustle of hay beneath their hooves creating a gentle symphony.
"Oh, Fen," she murmured, her voice a soft whisper in the night, as she leaned her head against the horse's dark flank.
The night air carried a different kind of stillness, an intimacy that seemed to amplify the storm brewing in her.
Fenrir snorted, his breath a visible mist in the cool night, and turned his gaze toward her, his big brown eyes reflecting the moon's serene glow.
"I want to go home," she confessed, her words carried away by the nocturnal breeze, mingling with the rustling leaves and the distant hoots of an owl.
The horse, seemingly indifferent to her plea, continued to sift through the hay, each blade illuminated by the soft luminescence of the moon.
Then go. Whispered the voice within her mind, a nocturnal echo that resonated with the mysteries of the night.
The moonlight cast long dancing shadows around her, and as she stood between Roach and Fenrir, she felt the weight of choices unfolding around her.
Her pale pink eyes flared with determination as she took hold of Fenrir's reins, the cool touch of the leather grounding her in the present moment.
Carefully, she placed her leather saddle on the horse, fingers moving with a practised grace born of countless evenings spent with the horse.
As the saddle snugly settled into place, she felt a surge of nostalgia welling up within her, a cascade of memories that transported her to a simpler time.
The weight of her disappointment and the heaviness of her existence seemed momentarily lifted as she found solace in the melody of an old song, a tune that resonated with the echoes of her past.
It was a tune Vesemir used to sing to her when she was upset.
Back then, she had been a child, unburdened by the knowledge of her true nature as an abomination.
The haunting notes of the song had been a comforting lullaby, a refuge in the storm of emotions that once seemed insurmountable.
Her voice, soft and fragile yet filled with unyielding strength, now echoed through the stables.
The words spilled from her lips like a gentle stream, carrying the echoes of a forgotten time.
She didn't know the language, but each word calmed her down as she let the song slip around her.
YOU ARE READING
the angels hidden blade
أدب الهواةNefeli, or "Cupid", as the infuriating beast likes to call her, has never been wanted at anyone's side, and she sure as hell has never been loyal to a single soul. The stoic and fierce Vesemir bled the ability out of her, just as he tainted her blo...
