Chapter 7: Destined.
Far from Lily,in a different place, a different silence reigned,one not borne of peace but if tension.
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Sylenya finally broke the silence. Her voice was soft yet firm, carrying the weight of generations.
"Kristof isn't just your guide tonight," she said, eyes locking with Kaelen's. "He's your father. And I am your mother."
Kaelen blinked, surprise flickering across his face. The pieces shifted in his mind — the quiet strength, the ancient sorrow in their eyes.
Sylenya took a breath and continued, "The ritual seals the soul and blood of your mortal bind with yours.
Kaelen leaned in, voice low. "How is it done?"
Sylenya's gaze grew steady, unwavering. "First, your blood and that of your mortal bind will be drawn and mixed into a chalice. You both drink from it. It's the start of the bond — the magic, the life shared between you."
She paused, letting the gravity sink in before she spoke the next words.
"After that, you and your mortal bind will come together, intimately. The union is essential — it seals the bond in a way nothing else can. You will become tied not just by blood, but by flesh and spirit."
Kaelen swallowed hard, the seriousness of it settling on him like a cloak.
Sylenya pressed on, "There are other rites, too — chants whispered under the moon, blessings from the oldest witches. All to protect the bond, to strengthen it against what lies beyond."
She stepped closer, her voice lowering to a near whisper.
"It's two nights away from the fiftieth night before the crimson moon rises. That's when the Pull begins — the force that draws you to your mortal bind. It's inevitable. You won't be able to resist it. It's as if something ancient within you is waking, calling you home."
Kaelen's eyes searched hers. "The Pull… how does it work again ?"
The Pull is not just a feeling — At first, you might mistake it for nothing more than a longing, a restless ache you can't explain."
She paused, searching Kaelen's face.
"But as the Crimson Moon nears, it grows stronger. The Pull becomes a steady rhythm, pulsing through your veins like a living thing — your soul's compass, unerring and relentless."
Kaelen felt a shiver run down his spine as if the words themselves had summoned a shadow in the room.
"The Pull guides you — not with sound or sight, but with an instinct so pure it can't be denied. It will lead you through forests thick with darkness, across crowded streets where faces blur, until finally, it brings you to her."
Sylenya's voice softened, almost tender now.
"You won't need to question it. You won't need to search. The Pull will be your constant companion, your inner compass — and it will never falter."
Kristof nodded beside her, voice steady and sure.
"It is the bond's first promise. That no matter how far or lost you are, the Pull will find your way. To her. To the beginning."
Kaelen closed his eyes, imagining the invisible thread winding inside him, pulling him forward — drawing him home.
Sylenya's eyes softened as she looked at Kaelen.
"When the Pull finally draws you to your mortal bind, you won't just find her—you'll watch over her. Every step she takes, every breath she draws, you will be there, even when she doesn't see you. Protecting her from the shadows, guarding her in ways no one else can."
She paused, letting the moment stretch between them.
"It's a quiet kind of love at first. Patient, watching from the edges. But it will grow—stronger, fiercer, impossible to ignore. You will find yourself drawn to her smile, the way her eyes catch the light, the sound of her laughter. And slowly, before the ritual even begins, you will make her fall for you."
Kaelen's breath hitched, the idea both thrilling and terrifying.
"This love," Sylenya continued, "will be your bond's foundation. It will soften her heart, open her to you. You'll approach her gently, carefully—like a promise whispered in the dark. And when the ritual finally comes, it won't just be blood and magic tying you together. It will be something deeper. Something real."
Kristof nodded beside her, voice low and certain.
"Love before the ritual is the strongest kind. It will be what saves you both when the world tries to tear you apart."
Kristof's voice rumbled beside her, "The bond before the ritual will be fragile. But that love — true and fierce — will make you strong enough to face what's coming."
Kaelen exhaled slowly, the weight of destiny settling on his shoulders. The bond he must forge, and the ancient darkness lurking beyond the veil — everything was pulling him forward.
Sylenya's hand found his, squeezing gently.
"Are you ready, Kaelen?"
He nodded, though inside his heart thundered with fear and hope.
"There is something else you must know."
Kristof's jaw clenched. For a moment, he looked like he would stop her from speaking—but he didn't.
"The witches," she said slowly, "they are not truly with us in this."
"They have not forgiven us."
To be continued...