The Whispers of Valinor

The choice of Althaea

The dim glow of Laurelin's last light bathed the forest in shades of amber and gold as Althaea stood frozen, her breath caught in her chest.
Across the clearing, Velanor's piercing gaze held hers like an unbroken thread.
His grip on Aurêlia's arm was firm, yet calculated not cruel, but unyielding.

Aurêlia's sunlit aura dimmed with fear, her golden hair disheveled as she struggled against him. "Althaea," she pleaded, her voice trembling.
"Don't let him take me!"

"Release her, Velanor," Althaea commanded, her tone icy yet edged with desperation. She clutched her staff tightly, its moonlit carvings pulsating with soft light, ready to summon its power if needed.

Velanor tilted his head, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "You warned her not to follow you, Althaea. Yet here she is, defying caution, as curious as she is reckless. Now, her fate rests in your hands."

"What do you mean?" Althaea's voice wavered despite her steady stance.

Velanor took a step closer, his shadow falling over both sisters like a shroud.
"You, Althaea, are bound to me by a thread even you do not yet comprehend. I will release Aurêlia on one condition.
When I call upon you, wherever and whenever it may be, you will come. No questions, no hesitation."

Aurêlia gasped, shaking her head violently.
"No! You can't agree to this! He's playing with you, Althaea!"

Althaea's heart raced, torn between her sister's fear and the enigmatic power radiating from Velanor.
His presence was like a storm unpredictable and dangerous, yet strangely magnetic.

"Why?" she demanded, narrowing her eyes.
"Why do you want me to swear such a vow?"

Velanor's smirk faded, his expression now unreadable. "Because, Althaea, you are far more important than you realize. This is only the beginning."

For a long moment, silence hung in the air, broken only by the rustling leaves and Aurêlia's soft sobs.

Althaea lowered her gaze to her sister, then back to Velanor. She hated him for forcing her into this choice, for the hold he already seemed to have over her. But she couldn't risk Aurêlia's safety.

"I will come," Althaea said finally, her voice steady but her heart breaking.
"Whenever you call, I will come."

Velanor's gaze lingered on her, assessing the truth in her words. For a brief moment, something unspoken flickered in his eyes a shadow of regret, perhaps, or something darker.
Then he smiled, slow and dangerous, as though her surrender had been inevitable all along.

"Wise," he murmured, his voice low and smooth as silk. He lifted his hand, and from the shadows of the trees, his soldiers emerged. They moved with a preternatural silence, their dark armor gleaming faintly in the golden light.

"Take the sun child," Velanor ordered.

Aurêlia screamed as two of the soldiers seized her by the arms. "Althaea! You promised! You said he would let me go!"

"I am letting you go," Velanor said, his smirk returning, sharper this time. "But not without company." He turned his gaze to Althaea.
"You're coming too."