The Sun's Awakening

Chapter Fourteen

Legend writes that within the hollowed heart of Ki'Heil, anyone who enters is renewed. Weary souls are said to find solace; their spirits lifted and their burdens eased. For Ele, the legend resonated deep within her heart, its allure drawing her in like a moth to a flame. Her heart yearned to experience the transformative power that lay within its ancient embrace. 

Beneath the tree, she sensed the final remnants of her mating bond dissolve, cascading away like brittle chains shattered by a lightning strike. She felt the residual tendrils of the bond recoil, their desperate tendrils reaching out in a futile attempt to ensnare her heart once more.

When they arrived at the sacred tree, Anja insisted that she borrow one of her dresses. It draped around her form like liquid gold, shimmering with every movement. The fabric was a mesmerizing blend of hues reminiscent of the sun's warm embrace. Although it was a tad too long for her and pooled at her feet, she worked with the fluid gown by lifting the hem with a gentle hand whenever she skirted around. 

Even amongst all the rest wearing similarly extravagent gowns, Eledorah felt like an outsider. 

'You are an outsider. Anywhere you go, you'll be the outsider.'

Whether that thought stemmed from her own mind or the demons, she silenced it by tuning into the sounds around her. The air felt alive with the haunting melody of flutes playing music lost in time. Voices of all ages recounting their favorite memories...

Just as she closed her eyes to better appreciate the radiant banter, Anja interrupted with a shrill screech.

"Look at you! If only our mother were here." She nudged Jehvani's side; apparently a little too roughly because he grimaced. "She loves painting faenixes, though she prefers live models. One day, when this war is over, you must come visit our homeland. Now, Jehvani, be a gentleman and ask her to dance before I do."

Something she said made Ele stammer her words, "Y-your mother has met a faenix?"

"There have been times that your kind have flown too close to the sun and landed on our island... Once they know our secret, there's no returning home." Her tone sounded grim even with the lighthearted smile she displayed. "Not as if they're prisoners, heavens no. They choose to stay once we share our stories. The last one passed away shortly after his arrival due to preexisting wounds, but mother took delight in painting him."

Before she had a chance to ask more, the melody changed tune and Jehvani offered his hand for a dance, his eyes softening as he awaited her response. To not accept in a place of their sacred gathering would be disrespectful, so she took his hand and they glided across the floor.

Jehvani's movements were graceful and, despite his reserved demeanor, he proved to be a competent dance partner. She followed Jehvani's lead with quiet confidence. As they danced, there was an unspoken understanding between them, a mutual respect that transcended words.

Words... He was incapable of speaking.

He danced as he signed. Tender yet respectful. Graceful with a touch of nobility. 

For dancing was just another way for him to express himself. 

As the music faded and their dance came to an end, Roman appeared at Eledorah's side, his presence a stale reminder of why they were here. Jehvani, with a polite nod, passed her off just as the sharp note of the next song began. 

"You... Smell different." Roman's hand nestled on the small of her back, drawing her close in a tantalizing embrace. 

She couldn't help the chuckle that escaped. "Was that supposed to be a compliment?"