Hope etched in secret
1010 Words
The letter was soft from wear, its parchment edges frayed as if it had been read a hundred times—except this was Noctis’s first.
He sat alone in the palace infirmary, the low candlelight brushing pale gold against his cheekbones. His gloved hands trembled slightly as he peeled back the wax seal of Vaeluna. With every unfolding crease, his heart pounded louder.
Finding you changed everything.
Over time, your patience taught me how to be soft again.
Remember me, but don’t wait. You deserve happiness…
He read it once. Then again. Her words were a blade—gentle but cutting, and with each line, he bled. The ache he’d kept buried since awakening surged to the surface, raw and gasping.
“Why,” he whispered. He remembered hearing those words—I would have waited a thousand years to love you. Had he imagined it in his unconscious state?
His voice cracked. He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, willing back the tears stinging behind his eyes. He had waited three centuries. Fought beside kings. Given his life for love.
And now she was gone.
The door creaked open.
Lucan stepped in quietly, his usual swagger tempered by the silence of the room. He took in the scene—the discarded vials, the dim light, and the letter clutched like a lifeline in his friend’s hands.
He exhaled and dropped into the seat beside him. “Lunari for your thoughts?”
Noctis didn’t answer.
Lucan raised a brow. “That bad?”
Without a word, Noctis passed him the letter.
Lucan read it once. Then again. His expression shifted—confusion, then curiosity. “Wait…” he murmured.
“What?” Noctis asked, voice hoarse.
Lucan leaned in, tracing each line with his eyes. “The first letter of each line. Look.”
He whispered it aloud. “Forced to leave… I do love.”
Noctis blinked. Snatched the letter. Scanned it again, desperation rising like a tide. It was true—the message had been hidden in plain sight.
“She didn’t abandon me,” he breathed. “She was made to.”
Hope lit his face like dawn through stormclouds. The despair cracked—just enough for something else to shine through. Purpose.
—
In Vaeluna, morning light filtered softly through the silk curtains of Liora’s chambers. The air smelled of morning dew and frost-sweet nectar. But the warmth of it did nothing to ease the weight in her chest.
She rose from her moonspun sheets, wings dragging low as she moved to the bath. The steaming water soothed her aching limbs, but not her heart. When she emerged, hair damp and fragrant, they were waiting.
“Ambush?” she muttered.
Irisel and Myrelle stood near the edge of her room, both in palace finery, their expressions taut with worry.
“You’ve been fading for months,” Irisel said gently. “We want to know why.”
Liora exhaled slowly, back to the window. She closed her eyes.
So mother hadn’t told them.
“It wasn’t the war,” she began. “Or the healing. Or even the deaths.”
She told them everything—of Noctis, of the ball, of the bond. The love. The sacrifice.
The ultimatum.
Both sisters stared in stunned silence. Their mother—so composed, so benevolent—had done this? Had threatened his life?
Myrelle’s lips parted to speak, but then her body went still. Her violet eyes turned glassy. Green light flared around her irises.
“A vision,” Irisel breathed.
When it ended, Myrelle stumbled back, face pale. Without a word, she turned and strode from the room.
Liora didn’t follow. Neither did Irisel. They knew better than to interrupt when Myrelle walked with the Sight.
—
In the throne room, Queen Ellaria stood with advisors, overlooking eligible suitors for her daughter.
The doors burst open.
Myrelle entered like a thunderstorm.
“Suitors for Liora?” she demanded. “When you know she loves another?”
The Queen flinched and dismissed her advisors with a flick of her wrist. “She told you.”
“Yes,” Myrelle snapped. “And you did nothing. You let her wither while pretending it was for her own good.”
“I was protecting her.”
“From love?”
“He’s not like us, Myrelle,” the Queen said softly. “A creature of shadow. How could she survive in his world? What if she’s the only one nearby when his hunger strikes? He could hurt her without meaning to. I couldn't take that risk.”
Myrelle’s expression turned icy. “Do you think Caius would allow a monster near his people? Noctis is not what you fear. He’s risked his life for her—twice. You were so frightened of her living in shadow that you've let her become one here.”
She raised a hand and cast the vision outward.
A projection filled the air: Liora lying pale, wrapped in a shroud of moonspun silk. Her glow extinguished. Her breath still.
The Queen gasped.
“No,” she whispered. “Not my daughter—”
“Yes,” Myrelle said, her voice low and unyielding as iron. “This is your doing. Undo it—before it’s too late. She chose him, Mother. Her heart is set. All we can do now is stand by her, love her, and support her—just as we always have. But you must take back your ultimatum. Living in his world isn’t what will destroy her. To her… he is the sun. And without him, we will lose her forever.”
—
Back in the Moon Kingdom, Noctis surged upright.
Lucan reached to stop him. “You’re not strong enough—”
“I’ll heal on the way.”
He pulled on his coat, eyes burning, the glowing rune on his wrist still pulsing.
“I have to go to her.”
His voice was steel.
His resolve, unbreakable.
And this time—he wouldn’t let her slip away.
- Writer
