Morning sunlight slipped into the royal chamber like silk. Warm gold spilled over the bed, where Elysera and Nirelle lay nestled beneath the soft weight of lavender-scented sheets. Their legs entwined, skin still tingling from the night before.
Elysera's auburn hair was fanned across the pillow. Nirelle's lavender locks draped softly over her shoulder as she stirred awake, her cheek resting against Elysera's bare chest.
The room was quiet. Safe. Sacred.
Nirelle smiled faintly, fingertips brushing Elysera's skin before she slowly sat up. She pulled on a silk robe, still feeling her heartbeat echo with last night's love. Stretching, she walked toward the mirror…
And froze.
Her ears.
No longer long and pointed like an elf's.
They were shorter — rounded, more human.
"What…?" she whispered, touching them gently. Her breath caught.
Just then, the door creaked open.
Lysenne strode in, calm and confident, her long obsidian hair tied in a single braid, her armor only half-buckled as if she'd already been preparing for battle since dawn.
Her eyes fell on Nirelle and a smirk touched her lips.
"You're cute," she said casually, as if she wasn't walking into her daughter's bedchamber post-passion.
Nirelle blushed immediately. "Thank you, ma'am…"
Lysenne didn't stop — she strolled right to the edge of the bed and with a practiced flick, smacked Elysera's bare backside under the covers.
"Wake up, dreamy girl. There's a war coming. No sleeping in."
Elysera stirred, groaning and turning over with a lazy smile. "Good morning, Mom… Nirelle…"
Then her eyes drifted to Nirelle's stiff posture. Her smile faded.
"Nirelle? What's wrong?"
Nirelle turned to her, panic barely masked behind confusion.
"My ears… Elysera… they're different."
Elysera blinked — then sat up quickly, the sheets falling around her chest. Her voice was steady, serious, full of something deeper.
"Mom… I need to tell you something."
Lysenne folded her arms, watching them both.
Elysera reached for Nirelle's hand, gently pulling her closer.
"We're in love."
"Me and Nirelle… last night… it wasn't just passion. It was everything. She's in my heart, my soul. I gave myself to her. Fully. I love her, Mom."
Nirelle's eyes shimmered.
Lysenne stared at them for a moment. Then she smiled.
"Ah… That explains it."
"Explains what?" Nirelle asked, still trembling.
Lysenne stepped beside her and pointed at the mirror.
"Your ears. They're shaped more like Elysera's now. It's called Yareth'an."
"What's that?"
"The Soulbond," she explained, now speaking gently. "It's one of the rarest forms of elven magic. It only happens between an elf and a human woman who fall into true, sacred love. Your souls begin to reflect one another. Sometimes it affects the body — like your ears."
Elysera was stunned, eyes wide.
Nirelle stared at her reflection.
"So… we're bound forever?"
Lysenne nodded. "Yes. What happened between you two… it was more than physical. You're connected now — body, heart, soul."
Then she smirked again, tone shifting.
"Well, in that case… when do I get a grandson?"
Both girls' jaws dropped.
"MOM!" Elysera squeaked, her face turning red.
Nirelle nearly tripped. "But we're both girls!"
Lysenne laughed, waving it off as she opened the wardrobe.
"And? Yareth'an magic doesn't care about gender. If your bond is strong enough, the soul can create life. It's rare, but it's happened. A soulchild… born not from the body, but from your love."
Elysera blinked, stunned. "You're serious?"
Lysenne winked. "If I get a baby after this war, I won't complain. Now, get dressed. Both of you. Dravaryn's forces are already moving."
Across the sands of Elaris, Queen Elara sat on her obsidian throne, shrouded in her golden robe, face unreadable.
The desert wind hissed at the windows.
Her general knelt before her.
"My Queen… Varyn's army will arrive by dawn."
Elara's voice was calm.
"Good. Then I will leave."
He looked up, confused.
"Leave?"
"I will not be seen in this war. I will watch from my hidden fortress. From silence."
She stood and turned to the side hall.
"Vaenira."
Her younger sister stepped out — tall, white-haired, armored in silver. Quiet and composed.
"You will rule while I'm gone. Sit the throne. Watch everything. Let none approach the truth."
Vaenira bowed.
"Yes, sister."
Elara walked out, her shadow trailing behind like smoke.
At "Dua'kael en nyel."
("Second hour in the night.")
2:00am.., under the moonlight, Queen Ivera stood beneath the great war tent. Torches crackled as the leaders of the Minority Kingdoms gathered.
Queen Olyana, flanked by frost wolves.
Warlord Mira, crimson tattoos glowing on her skin.
King Vahn, wind at his shoulders.
Priest-King Sereth, draped in vines, guarded by whispering dryads.
Ivera's armor gleamed silver, her voice sharp.
"This war… is no longer mine to lead."
Gasps rippled.
"My daughter, Elysera, will command the front. Lysenne will fight at her side."
She stepped back.
Elysera walked forward — armor half-buckled, braid freshly tied.
"I won't fail this realm."
Ivera nodded, touching her cheek.
"Then lead. The future is yours."
On the battlefield, Dravaryn's army burned into the horizon.
Flame Knights with fire-spears.
Tusk-scaled beasts with red armor.
Blood Sorcerers chanting in rings of flame.
Crimson Dancers summoning blades with each movement.
And at the rear… Varyn, seated on a throne of bones, watching from a dragon's ribcage.
Across from them, Iveryn's forces rose like dawn:
Crystal Shieldmaidens with gleaming silver shields.
Forest archers with glowing bows.
Wind-chariots spinning in silence.
Snow-leopard riders pacing the edges.
Healers and enchantresses forming sigil circles behind them.
In the center, Elysera stood — the heart of it all.
But before war…
There was still time for peace.
In the sacred moonstone bath chamber, steam drifted gently. Candles glowed. Petals floated on the water.
Elysera, Nirelle, Nyx, and Lira stepped into the warm pool — naked, quiet, bare in soul and body.
Lira giggled as Nyx helped braid her damp hair.
Nirelle curled against Elysera's chest, fingers gently stroking her collarbone.
Elysera took war paint from a floating tray, dipped her fingers, and painted a sigil on Nirelle's back — a symbol of unity and flame.
Lira traced a heart in silver paint over Nyx's shoulder. They didn't speak much.
Only the water moved.
"Will we all survive this?" Lira asked softly.
Nyx answered, "If not all of us… then one of us will live to tell the story."
The water rippled. The moon outside trembled.
And the drums of war began to beat.
End of Chapter 18