chapter two : the dream
1101 Words
🌸 Chapter Two: The Dream
Elara pov,
Elara woke with a gasp, her sheets tangled around her legs, skin damp with sweat. The dream clung to her like smoke—flashes of fire and shadow, wind that roared like a storm, water that drowned and healed, earth that cracked beneath her feet.
And five figures, always five, circling her like stars.
Her heart hammered. She pressed her palms to her face, willing herself to breathe. Just a dream, she told herself. But deep down, she knew better.
It hadn’t felt like a dream. It had felt like a warning.
When she stumbled outside to fetch water, the village seemed unchanged. Chickens clucked, neighbors called to each other, the sun warming the rooftops. Yet the world felt… wrong. As though the forest’s shadows still lingered at the edge of her vision.
“Elara.”
She jumped, nearly spilling the bucket. It was old Mara, the herb-woman, peering at her with cloudy eyes. “You’ve seen them, haven’t you?”
Elara froze. “Seen… who?”
Mara’s wrinkled lips curled in a knowing smile. “The brothers. Five of them, born of fire and storm. Their fate tied to yours.” She tapped her temple. “You dream of them, don’t you?”
Elara’s mouth went dry. “How do you—”
But before she could finish, Mara’s gaze flicked toward the forest, her expression darkening. “Be careful, child. Not all who seek you come with love. Some will come with hunger.”
That night, Elara lay awake, Mara’s words echoing in her mind. She wanted to believe the old woman was mad, but the truth pressed heavier with each breath.
Her dream had felt too real. Too alive.
And somewhere, in the vastness of the forest, she knew two pairs of eyes were already watching her. Waiting.
brothers pov,
Far from the sleeping village, in the shadow of the Veil Forest, five figures gathered around a dying fire. The night was heavy with silence, broken only by the crackle of embers.
Kael stood with his arms crossed, his jaw tight. His cloak still carried the faint scent of smoke from when he’d first stepped into the forest earlier. “She’s not ready,” he said flatly. “We revealed ourselves too soon.”
Riven sprawled across a fallen log, tossing a twig into the flames, his grin infuriatingly casual. “Correction—you revealed yourself too soon, oh mighty eldest. I was just enjoying the moment.”
Kael shot him a sharp look, but before he could speak, another voice—low, smooth, and edged with shadows—cut through the firelight.
“She knows nothing of our world,” Darius said, his dark eyes glinting from beneath his hood. He had been silent since they’d returned, watching, listening. “That ignorance may protect her. Or it may destroy her.”
Lucien shifted impatiently, his fist tightening on the hilt of his blade. The youngest brother was always restless, his temper quick to spark. “We can’t just leave her in that village like some helpless lamb waiting for wolves. If Malrik senses her—” His words broke off, sharp with anger.
At the sound of the name, the fire sputtered. A chill swept the clearing.
Theron, calm as ever, placed a hand on Lucien’s shoulder. “Peace, little brother. Anger will not shield her.” His gaze drifted upward, toward the scatter of stars beyond the branches. “The prophecy is unfolding as it was written. We must walk carefully.”
Riven sighed, leaning back on the log. “Carefully, yes. But also… quickly. Did you see her eyes? She’s already tethered to us. Whether she admits it or not, she feels it.”
Kael’s expression hardened. “That doesn’t matter. She deserves a choice. And if she chooses not to—”
“She will,” Darius interrupted, his voice a soft, dangerous whisper. “She must. Without her, we are nothing but fractured pieces of power. With her, we are whole.”
The brothers fell into uneasy silence, the weight of truth pressing down like a storm on the horizon.
At last, Theron spoke again, his voice steady. “Fate has brought her to us. But fate alone will not keep her. We must earn her trust… and protect her, even from ourselves.”
The fire hissed, sparks rising into the dark.
Above them, the constellations shimmered like watchful eyes, and in a small village beyond the forest, Elara dreamed again—of fire, shadow, wind, water, and earth swirling together, all bound to her heart.
Elara pov,
The next morning, Elara woke with a heaviness in her chest, as though she had carried the weight of her dreams into the daylight. Her hands trembled as she poured water into the basin, and when she glanced at her reflection, she nearly dropped the pitcher.
Her eyes—normally a soft hazel—glowed faintly gold, just for an instant.
She blinked, and the light was gone.
“Elara?” Her aunt’s voice rang from the kitchen. “Stop dawdling, girl. The market won’t wait.”
Elara forced herself to breathe. It was just a trick of the sun, she told herself. But the unease lingered, gnawing at her ribs as she wrapped her shawl and carried the basket toward the market.
The village bustled with its usual rhythm—children chasing each other, merchants shouting prices, neighbors gossiping in hushed tones. Yet everywhere she went, Elara felt… watched.
Not by villagers, but by something unseen.
She caught her reflection again in a merchant’s polished kettle and froze. For a heartbeat, her outline shimmered—not just herself, but five shadowy figures circling her like guardians.
She stumbled back, nearly knocking over the stall.
“You all right, lass?” the merchant frowned.
Elara nodded quickly, mumbling an excuse as heat rose to her cheeks. She pressed on, clutching her basket like a shield.
That night, when she finally collapsed into bed, exhaustion claimed her quickly. But peace did not follow.
Instead, she dreamed again.
This time she stood in the Veil Forest, moonlight pooling at her feet. One by one, the brothers appeared around her—Kael’s fire warming her skin, Riven’s laughter stirring the wind, Theron’s voice like flowing water, Lucien’s strength steady as stone, Darius’s shadows wrapping around her like a cloak.
They did not speak. But their eyes, all of them, burned with the same truth:
You belong to us.
Elara woke with a gasp, heart pounding, the words echoing in her mind.
- Writer
