ELIAN'S CALL !!
1348 Words
Elian's Call
Amelie leafed through her notebook at night before sleep. That old notebook she found in the trunk was filled with salt traces and these lines:
"Castles of salt do not crumble, but each buries a memory."
"When a girl cannot recognize herself in the mirror, she reawakens somewhere else."
"Elian comes only at night. And he chooses you from among those you love the most."
Grains of sand slipped through her fingers. When she lifted her hands, her palms held salty sands that waved like water; but those sands were, in fact, fragments of time. Amelie opened her eyes, not with her physical eyes, but in the depths of her soul. On the edge of sleep, she was in the very center of a labyrinth; its walls woven from salt and sand, the sky opened above like a purple wound. “Welcome, Amelie,” said a voice, taking shape in the darkness. Elian was walking. His steps did not touch the ground, his presence was cold and intense, both terrifying and enchanting. A salt tear fell from his eye; her hands trembled. Elian gently took her with his fingertips.
"As you grow tired, I will grow stronger. Even years from now, I will be the one who rules your shadow with every breath you take."
“Are you ready for the game? This game will define the boundaries of reality. You have a lot to lose,” he whispered.
Her heart began to pound, feeling a mixture of fear and attraction. “What do you want from me?”
“Give me your hand,” said Elian. “Here, you can build your dreams like sandcastles. But remember, every castle crumbles.”
Amelie, trying to escape Elian's pull, noticed a door in the corner of the labyrinth. When she opened the door, a garden appeared before her eyes: white roses blooming in the middle of the night, a translucent pool.
By the edge of the pool, a young man stood. His eyes were lemon green, his gaze warm and inviting. A faint mist swirled around him. There was warmth in his eyes, but also an unknown secret. Amelie’s soul trembled; he was both familiar and foreign at once.
His name: Lysander.
Lysander looked at Amelie and smiled. "I've been waiting for you."
Amelie held her breath. "Have we met before?"
Lysander took a step; his tone was sweet as honey. "No. But your soul tells me about him."
These words made Amelie’s heart flutter. Indeed, for the first time in years, she felt a spark of hope.
The man approached her, “Come with me. We can escape this world.”
Amelie smiled helplessly. “I don’t know you. But… I feel like I’ve been waiting for you.”
Elian’s voice echoed in her ears like the wind: “Marriage is a refuge, but also a chain.”
Elian’s voice still echoed in the air:
“Marriage is a refuge, but also a chain.”
Amelie flinched. She wanted to look away from Lysander, but she couldn’t.
And then… she noticed something.
Lysander’s eyes.
No longer lemon green.
No.
They were her eyes.
Same shape, same lines, same light.
When their gazes met, it was like a mirror shattered — silently, but with a soul-breaking crack.
Amelie’s voice trembled:
“Your eyes… are like mine.”
Lysander bowed his head slightly.
“Because we came from the same place,” he whispered.
The sky shifted from purple to gray. The water in the pool stopped reflecting. The roses began to wither, just slightly.
Elian’s voice returned, closer now:
“He’s not who you think he is, Amelie.”
Amelie stepped back, but Lysander gently took hold of her wrist — softly, yet firmly.
“Look at me,” he said.
“You saw me in your dreams. Just as I saw you. This isn’t a coincidence.”
Amelie’s voice cracked, “Why are your eyes like that?”
For the first time, something fragile broke across Lysander’s face.
“Because I was born in that house too, Amelie. Just like you. Only… in an earlier time. A darker time.”
Her heart fluttered like a trapped bird in her chest.
“Why now?” she asked.
Lysander stepped closer.
“Because the time has come. Elian’s curse binds not just you — but me as well.
We are… two halves of the same curse.
Lysander gently took Amelie's hand, extending his own. Sand and salt poured around him; his clothes were covered in mud, but he did not waver from his gaze.
"Let's escape," said Lysander. "Let's leave this place together. Choose me before you lose your mind."
Amelie’s eyes were full, her heart pounding as if it would burst from her chest.
As Amelie walked towards the exit of the labyrinth, a new hope blossomed in her heart. Fear, love, and escape… All intertwined. And the game was just beginning.
What would Amelie do now? Would she surrender her heart to this man, whom she felt she had known before and considered sacred? This man had thrown Amelie off balance. She had suddenly forgotten what was right, what needed to be done. Was she being deceived, or was this man, Lysander, merely a delusion Elian had placed in her dreams to tempt her with a fleeting hope—something that never existed and never would? She didn't know. Making a decision within the dream itself was difficult enough. Perhaps this man didn't even exist in the real world; perhaps this dream was another one of Elian's games. She didn't care. But what if it was real, and Lysander was Amelie's protective refuge, an escape from the torment and suffering she endured both from Elian and in the real world? It was possible. Her mind was utterly confused. She was only 17, and these events were too much for her young age; her small body was exhausted and weary. She had to get out of this dream now. But she couldn't. She would have to make a decision. Would she believe him and continue her life as if nothing had happened, or would she run away with Lysander?
The labyrinth was divided into narrow corridors. On one side, Pablo’s whispers, her mother’s screams, on the other, Elian’s shadow echoed. She looked at Lysander; she didn't know if he was real or just a hallucination anymore.
"The choice is yours," said Lysander. "Marry me, leave reality behind, or get lost in this labyrinth."
She paused for a long moment. Her siblings came to mind: five small hearts, dependent on her protection. But the warmth she saw in Lysander's eyes soothed her relentless exhaustion.
She took a deep breath. "Yes," she said, her voice trembling. "I want to marry you."
A smile appeared on Lysander's face; at that moment, the sand grains sparkled as if turning into stars.
"Then come," said Lysander, "let's build a new life together."
And Amelie heard a laugh echoing above Elian's shadow. The labyrinth walls shook, the sand trembled, as if the charm was breaking.
Amelie opened her eyes, lying in a cold sweat. The pages of the notebook had spilled from the edge of her pillow, their scent like a salty dream.
She had returned to the real world, but somewhere in her heart, she still felt the warmth of Lysander’s hand.
Who was this stranger, Lysander? Was he real? Or was he a perfect, extraordinary dream, too good to be true? “This curse hasn’t just dragged you for years—it’s dragged me too. Even though I’m a famous director, it’s this tiny village that pulled me here. We will be together. I will help you, and I promise I will never let go of your delicate hands for the rest of your life. Just trust me, my little one. Trust me,” Lysander said.
Amelie wanted to believe him. Even if it was a dream, it couldn’t be a coincidence. She felt these feelings belonged to her, they were real—and there had to be more to come..
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