Eternal Starlight: Celestial City

Chapter 5

Elowen returned to the House of Light, a sanctuary that immediately sensed her distress and graciously opened its door to welcome her. As she hurried up the staircase, the soothing sounds of running water filled the air, accompanied by the calming aromas of lavender, chamomile, and sandalwood wafting from the bathroom. Upon entering, she quickly shed her dress and immersed herself in the steaming water, which enveloped her like a warm embrace, eliciting a deep sense of gratitude for the house's thoughtful gestures. "Thank you," she murmured, her heart swelling with appreciation.

In a gentle rumble, the house responded by opening her bedroom window, allowing the rhythmic sound of ocean waves to drift into the bathroom, enhancing her relaxation. Beside her, a steaming cup of hot cocoa appeared, topped with whipped cream and chocolate flakes, a perfect indulgence for her weary spirit. "I suppose you're curious about my anger," Elowen confided in the house, her voice tinged with frustration. The house rumbled softly, encouraging her to share. "I encountered a man named Xander—tall, strikingly handsome, with a physique that could rival any Greek god. But his charm faded when he revealed his allegiance to Thomas. He sought my forgiveness, but I told him he didn’t deserve it, and he wished to join the Light Court. I told him it was completely off the table. Was I too harsh?" she pondered aloud.

The house's steady rumble seemed to suggest that perhaps she had been too severe and that giving him a chance might be the right path. With a resigned sigh, Elowen acknowledged, "I suppose you're right. Tomorrow, I will seek him out and offer him my forgiveness and a place in the Light Court." The house rumbled once more, this time with a sense of pride as if to affirm her decision to embrace compassion and understanding.

Elowen expressed her heartfelt gratitude, saying, "I can't thank you enough for being there for me during these past few months as I've shared my frustrations and sorrows, especially after losing Rowan. Your support and comfort have meant the world to me, and I genuinely appreciate everything you've done. I honestly don't know how I would have navigated this difficult time without your presence by my side."

Elowen emerged from the tub, enveloping herself in the comforting warmth of the towel the house gave to her. As she strolled toward her bedroom, the flickering flames of the fireplace, kindled by the house itself, wrapped around her like a gentle hug, offering the solace she craved. She slipped into her night attire, donning Rowan's soft shirt and cozy shorts, before settling beneath the blankets. The serene glow of the moonlight filtered through her window, casting a tranquil illumination across her room and enhancing the peaceful atmosphere of the night.

That night, Elowen found herself enveloped in a dream where Rowan stood before her, his smile radiant and his gaze warm. He approached her gently, brushing his fingers against her cheek, and she couldn't help but return his smile. "I love you," she breathed softly, her heart swelling with emotion. His expression turned bittersweet as he replied, "I love you too," his voice barely above a whisper. Pressing his forehead against hers, he continued, "You need to let me go now, Elowen. I know how much you miss me, and trust me, I feel the same way. I long for what might have been." With a heavy heart, he urged her, "Stay with him." His eyes held a tenderness that made her question who he meant. "You'll find out soon enough," he murmured, just as a voice called for him. "Coming, Dad!" he shouted back, glancing at Elowen one last time. "Be happy," he said, kissing her softly. "Please don't leave me," she pleaded, her voice laced with sorrow. "Goodbye, Elowen," he replied, his tone filled with sadness as he turned away, joining his parents who awaited him. As they walked off together, Rowan looked back, offering her a reassuring smile that conveyed he was at peace.

Elowen awoke to find tears streaming down her face, the remnants of the dream still clinging to her heart. The house, ever attentive, provided her with a tissue and a comforting cup of warm chamomile tea. "I dreamt of Rowan," she confided to the house, which rumbled in acknowledgment as if it had been privy to her nocturnal visit. Sipping the soothing tea, she felt the weight of sleep pulling her back into its embrace, the dream lingering in her mind like a bittersweet melody.

The following morning, Elowen awoke to the gentle embrace of sunlight filtering through her bedroom window, illuminating the space with a warm, golden hue as it rose from the ocean's horizon. A smile graced her lips as she felt invigorated and prepared to embrace the day ahead. Memories of her dream lingered in her mind, particularly Rowan's poignant words urging her to release him and consider who she should remain with. "Thorin? That must be who he meant," she mused, reflecting on the bond that had formed between them since Rowan's passing, as Thorin had been a steadfast source of support during her grieving process.

Dressing in her new Illyrian fighting leathers, a gift from the house upon her arrival, she laced up her fresh boots and meticulously braided her hair, allowing it to cascade down her back like a waterfall. Today, her plans included a visit to the training grounds, where she intended to assess the progress of the new recruits and observe how they were adapting to their rigorous training. Stepping outside, she inhaled deeply, savoring the crisp morning air infused with the scent of the ocean. With a sense of freedom coursing through her, she unfurled her wings and soared into the sky, embracing the exhilaration of flight.

Elowen soared through the air, landing gracefully on the training grounds where the Illyrians engaged in rigorous sparring sessions alongside the warriors of the Light Court. This was her opportunity to oversee the training, ensuring everything was in order. The atmosphere was charged with energy as the male fighters trained shirtless while the Illyrian women donned tank tops and fighting pants, showcasing their strength and agility. Among the flurry of movement, Elowen spotted Thorin in the midst of a sparring match with an opponent whose identity eluded her. As she approached, she noticed Xander, his bare chest adorned with intricate tattoos that snaked up his neck and down his arms, glistening with sweat as he exchanged blows with Thorin. The Illyrian males and females stood at attention, alongside the warriors from Celestial City, with Thorin maintaining a respectful stance before their High Lady—except for Xander, who remained defiantly relaxed.

With a keen eye, Elowen surveyed the scene, nodding in approval at the display of strength before her. However, Xander's nostrils flared, misinterpreting her gaze as an appraisal of the other fighters, prompting him to cross his arms, his muscles flexing under the tension. She turned her attention to him, her voice cutting through the air with authority. "You," she called out, irritation evident in her tone. "Why are you not standing at attention?" His retort was sharp, "Why should I? You're not my High Lady," eliciting gasps of surprise from those around them.

Amusement danced in her eyes as she raised an eyebrow, challenging his defiance. "Is that right?" she replied, her tone playful yet firm. "If you're going to be in this military, then I am your High Lady and your Commanding Officer." “Do you even know how to fight?” Xander's sarcasm dripped from his words as he questioned her, but Thorin interjected, "Xander, I wouldn't if I were you." cautioning him against pushing too far. Elowen, undeterred, raised her hand to signal as it was okay, her voice steady as she asked, "Are you challenging me?" With a smirk, he confirmed, "I am." "Then, let's see what you've got," she said, a sweet smile gracing her lips, though her tone dripped with sarcasm and mockery.

Liora winnowed to the training and sparing grounds, already aware of the unfolding situation, she leaned closer to Thorin and whispered, "Do you really think this is wise?"

Thorin merely shrugged in response. "He issued the challenge."

"Oh dear gods, this could end in disaster," Liora murmured anxiously.

As Elowen and Xander stepped into the sparring circle, a crowd began to form around them, anticipation buzzing in the air.

"Are you certain this is a smart move?" a concerned voice called out to Xander from the gathering crowd.

“It will be a piece of cake,” Xander declared with a self-assured grin.

Elowen rolled her eyes, shedding her Illyrian fighting vest and tossing it aside, revealing a sleek black tank top accentuating her readiness for battle. "Try not to shed too many tears when I take you down, douche," she retorted, her confidence unwavering. Xander, undeterred, shot back with a bright smile, "Oh, kitten, by the time the first round is over, you'll be pleading for mercy." As the fight began, Elowen tapped into her gift of foresight, skillfully predicting Xander's moves. She countered with a swift strike to his face, sending him stumbling backward, eliciting gasps from the men and cheers from the women rallying behind her.

Anticipating his next attack, she effortlessly sidestepped his advance, showcasing her agility and strategic prowess.