Soulbound: The Song of Souls Trilogy, #1

By Christen Stovall

Living in the quaint farming village of Brittendell offered a simple life of home and family. When Aislynn, the daughter of a local farmer, and Rorin, the son of a wealthy horse trader, married, another charming love story enlivened the tranquil town. Aislynn and Rorin were profoundly connected, but their relationship came to a screeching halt when Rorin was killed in a tragic accident. Their bond sends Aislynn into a spiraling depression as she continues sensing Rorin's presence. Soon, Aislynn finds herself thrust into a dangerous world of magic filled with hobgoblins, elves, and wizards. When Aislynn is captured by the future king of Venallis and forced to help him uncover a mysterious magical artifact she discovers that fate has far greater plans for her than she ever imagined. Perhaps death is not always the end.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Boundless Fantasy
• Release date: Sep 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9798201620981

Christen Stovall

Christen is an avid reader who enjoys going on adventures whenever she can. Her love of fantasy started at an early age with fairytales and The Hobbit. She lives in Kansas in the home she shared with her late husband. She first discovered a love of storytelling on the stage. In her late teens she began writing, a hobby that helped her through her husband’s death. She is the author of the Song of Souls trilogy, and its prequel, The Twisted Path. Christen enjoys spending days in her gardens and having adventures with her friends and family. Seer’s Choice is the first book in the Fae-touched Chronicles, and represents the first collaboration between Sanders and Stovall. What began as a birthday gift between authors has truly taken on a life of its own. We hope you enjoy our world.

Book preview

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Rachel Gegen for providing the stunning cover art.

Alisha Mattingly for the polish and sparkle her editing provided.

Gloria Mattinson, my sounding board and beta reader.

Crystal for information concerning oil therapy.

Mark and Simon, who worked tirelessly to help me market and network.

Jen, who kept me sane and motivated without even realizing she was doing it.

Chapter 1

Farewell

Verdant emerald hills , dotted here and there with trees a darker shade of green, rolled as far as the eye could see. The telltale checkerboard patterns of well–tended fields spanned the plains that stretched out before the hills. Tightly woven rows of wheat rustled in the wind like grassy ocean waves next to fields of bright yellow sunflowers, whose large cheerful blossoms traveled with the sun as it made its passage across the sky. 

Nestled at the base of the nearest hill was a small village, separated from the fields by a wide sparkling stream. Hazy, bluish grey twists of smoke curled and reached skyward from each tiny home’s chimney. Geese and goats wandered freely, picking at the bits of grass and weeds that grew along the well-worn pathways that twisted from house to house. Situated in a remote province of the realm of Venallis, the community of Brittendell sat untouched and forgotten by most. The citizens of the town were hardworking folk, happy and content in their isolated little corner of the kingdom.

The picturesque village was so peaceful that when a high, animal-like cry of pain split the air, it made the disturbance even more unsettling. Though the cry was human, it was filled with such anguish and despair that it seemed otherworldly. It was the hopeless sound of intense suffering; pain of a kind that bandages and medicines could do nothing to heal.

The agonized wail came from one of the cabins near the edge of town where a crowd gathered. A small, sad group of people kept vigil inside the humble home. They stood with heads bent toward the floor. All were silent except for the occasional sniffle and soft whimper. The scream that rent the air seconds earlier issued from a young woman. She sat crumpled at the side of a bed, her eyes staring at some unknown point on the floor. A young man lay on the bed, still and silent, his body emptied of life. The scream had ripped from the woman’s chest and throat the moment he released his final breath and his heart stopped beating.

Aislynn’s cry started somewhere deep within her soul. It tore through her heart, and burst from her lips of its own accord. Unearthly and terrible, the shriek could not convey the agony she felt when her husband’s body surrendered its soul. In the span of a single second her world shattered into jagged, bleeding edges.

She was vaguely aware of someone kneeling next to her and speaking, but she was beyond caring about the concerns of those around her. In one instant, life as she knew it was over. It was as if she had died herself. An entire existence flashed before her eyes, but it wasn't just the life she had lived to this point, it was the one she was supposed to share with her husband, Rorin. The children they would never have and the holidays that would pass without celebration rushed through her mind. It wasn't one life that ended on that sunny afternoon in their quaint cabin, it was several.

You need to drink something, the person beside her said.

Aislynn was brutally yanked back to the present and nothing made sense. She was no longer on the floor but was seated at the table with no memory of moving from her beloved’s side. She looked around her home in a confused haze. Most of the people who’d gathered to bid Rorin farewell were already gone. How long had it been: hours, minutes? She didn’t even remember hearing the door open and close when they left. Yet, she was seated at her table and only her mother and sisters remained.

Aislynn furtively glanced back at the bed, hoping beyond logic that husband’s passing wasn’t real. Surely her beloved Rory could not be gone; such a loss seemed unlivable. But it was. He was gone. She couldn’t hold back the broken whimper when she saw his body, the blankets pulled over his face until they were ready to prepare him for burial.

No, Aislynn’s voice was flat, defeated. I can’t do this. Then the torrent of tears began; chest wracking sobs that were uninhibited by the arms that quickly wrapped around her.

His pain is gone now. Aislynn’s mother’s voice was soft and soothing even though it cracked with grief. We must take comfort in that and hold his memory dearly in our hearts.

What is she talking about? Aislynn continued to sob. Rorin’s pain isn’t gone. It’s all still here. It was inside her and it was unbearable. Aislynn could feel it, she could feel him. It was an emotion so vast that the mass of it threatened to blow her body apart. She allowed the pain to take control again, wailing like an injured and frightened child. Her mother held her tighter as her sisters stood quietly nearby, tears streaming down their faces as well.

It was several minutes before Aislynn grew quiet again, though her body still shuddered with unshed tears. She sniffled and absently smoothed her dress. The mundane action brought a strange, calming numbness to her mind. They would need to attend to Rorin soon. Aislynn trembled at the idea, grief threatening her fragile composure.

As if sensing Aislynn’s thoughts, her mother gestured to her sisters. Take her outside; fetch Sylvia to help me see to Rorin. 

With her sisters’ arms around her shoulders, Aislynn stood. They started for the door, but she stopped, shook off their embrace, and walked slowly back to the bedside. Her fingers shook as she pulled the blanket away from Rorin’s face. He was still beautiful to her, despite the cuts and bruises that marred his gentle face. His features were so peaceful, like a little boy fast asleep after a long day of play. Aislynn reached out a hand and smoothed back a lock of his dark hair. She leaned forward and tenderly kissed his cheek. I love you, dearheart.

"I love you too." The memory of Rorin’s voice echoed in her ears.

Aislynn’s eyes slid shut and a fresh batch of tears slipped from her lashes. Even now she could hear him speaking to her. It was so distinct, as if he had opened his eyes and whispered the words. Strange how her heart seemed to have taken control of her senses; it simply refused to believe what her mind told her was true. Life as she knew it had ended forever.

The following day Aislynn found herself standing in a huddle of people as heavy raindrops splashed down around them. Nature itself seemed to mourn as they lowered her dear, sweet husband’s body into the ground. After this day she would never look upon his face again. That knowledge made her knees wobble and begin to give way. The cold, lifeless ground is no place for Rory. He was all warmth and liveliness .

Aislynn grit her teeth, locked the muscles of her legs, and clenched her hands into tight fists. It was all she could do to keep from flinging herself into the grave with him. She couldn’t let the grief take hold, not now. It was far too much to unleash in the company of others. Her family and friends were already so worried about her, and she couldn’t bear to see how her pain made theirs worse.

The men of the village stepped forward and began shoveling scoops of soil into the grave. Tradition dictated that the family must remain until the job was finished, but as the task neared completion Aislynn could no longer bear to look. Burying Rorin made his passing too real. She swallowed hard and fixed her eyes on a tree at the edge of the cemetery. A lone figure lingered under its branches. Something about his posture and build was so familiar, so comforting. Hope sputtered to life again.

Rory. The name slipped past Aislynn’s lips in a breathless whisper. Could it be? Is my Rorin standing there, alive and well, ready to save me from this misery? Aislynn took a step forward. Her heart raced to rationalize the hope that sprang up. Maybe his death is some kind of mistake or nightmare. Perhaps I’m ill and in my fevered delirium my mind created this horrible delusion.

Aislynn, darling? Mama’s hand came down gently on her shoulder. Where are you going?

Can’t she see him, he’s standing right there? Aislynn tore her eyes from the figure under the tree and looked at her mother in confusion.

Mama, it’s Rorin, he’s ... Aislynn’s gaze returned to the edge of the cemetery and her words trailed off. There was no one there. Colors faded to grey. I thought ...

I know, sweetheart, her mother soothed as she wrapped an arm around Aislynn. Nothing makes any sense right now. She gently guided Aislynn away from the burial plot, now filled with fresh earth. A meal has been laid out at Rorin’s parents’ farm.

Aislynn shook her head, reluctantly looking away from the tree as she was steered out of the cemetery. She could have sworn Rorin was there. She so desperately needed him to have been there. A wave of exhaustion swept over her. All she really wanted, aside from Rorin, was to go back home, to crawl into her bed, and forget that the world would continue whether or not she held any hope for the future.

Time passed strangely in the days and weeks following Rorin’s death. Seconds dragged on for what felt like years, hours passed in the blink of an eye. The nights were long and lonely, but dreams were the only escape. The waking world was a bleak and endless nightmare.

Sunlight burst through the little window near the table, shining down on Aislynn’s face and mercilessly pulling her from the oblivion of the night. She lay on her side, eyes still closed tightly. As long as she could cling to sleep she could imagine that life was normal, rather than a sad mockery of her childhood dreams.

Don’t be real, Aislynn begged silently, knowing morning had arrived whether she liked it or not. Please don’t be real.

She inhaled deeply and held her breath as she slowly opened her eyes to the empty space beside her on the bed. This had become Aislynn’s regular morning routine. Even though she knew it was a vain hope, she couldn’t stop herself from starting each day with the same desperate plea.

It had been nearly a month since Rorin’s passing, and while life had returned to normal for the rest of the village, it seemed as though Aislynn was stuck in this horrible limbo. One half of her still lived and breathed, the other half clung to the life she’d shared with Rorin. While she was still within the official mourning period, no one asked anything of her beyond simple survival. That time was ending today, and Aislynn could no longer expect her family and friends to continue to attend to her every need.

Tears trickled down her cheeks as she reached out to brush the place where her husband used to lay next to her. Silent cries turned into violent sobs. Why doesn’t it just kill me? Aislynn wondered. Surely when one’s heart is so utterly obliterated their body shouldn’t go on living.

"Don’t weep, my sweet one."

She turned her head into her pillow, covering her ears with her hands. Despite the passage of time, she could still hear Rorin’s voice, still sense his touch. The illusion of his closeness tore a hole through Aislynn that throbbed and ached deep inside her chest. At times, she was certain that if she looked down there would be a terrible, gaping wound where her heart once drummed the steady rhythm of her life. She shrieked into her pillow with all her might, trying desperately to release the pain. Her scream melted into childlike wails, the pillow instantly soaking up the tears that poured from her eyes.

It took several minutes for the sobbing to abate. When it did, Aislynn rolled to her back, still catching her breath between sniffles. She sat up and turned to stare out the window, but the view was meaningless without someone to share it with. Vaguely registering that her stomach was growling, Aislynn finally flung the blanket to the side with a heavy sigh and crawled out of bed. She knew that if she didn’t at least keep up the appearance of attending her basic needs, her mother and sisters would hover over her and force food down her throat. They meant well and only wished to help her through the loss, but all Aislynn wanted was to be left in solitude.

She opened the cupboards and stared vacantly at the contents inside before reaching for a loaf of bread. Plunking the soft, cold bread onto the table, she ripped off a chunk and shoved it into her mouth without enthusiasm. Thankfully, her mother and sisters had kept the pantry stocked during Aislynn’s mourning period.

"Good. Eat, my love."

Reflexively, Aislynn glanced at the chair that had been Rorin’s. So great was her desire to see him, that she could have sworn the empty space before her swirled, faintly tracing out his face in the floating dust motes. A part of her hoped that if she just focused or wished hard enough, it would be true and Rorin would materialize next to her. The image of his face rippled and swirled–almost there–but always just beyond perception. Aislynn reached out for it, only to lose the illusion. The chair across the table held nothing but emptiness.

Stop this! Aislynn spoke aloud. He’s gone and you can’t wish him back into being. She threw the last few bites of her morning meal back on the table and jumped to her feet in frustration.

After a few deep, fortifying breaths, Aislynn pushed through the motions of her morning routine with detached determination. She cleaned the remainder of her breakfast off of the table, washed her face, and plaited her hair into a long braid. She took a minute to study her reflection in a looking glass that hung on the wall near the bed. It was a wedding gift from Rorin’s family and one of Aislynn’s prized possessions. The reflection within revealed the same blue eyes and red hair that she’d always possessed, but Aislynn didn’t feel like herself anymore. It was like looking at a portrait of someone she had once known, but who was now little more than a stranger.

Disturbed by the image of herself, Aislynn turned away from the mirror to focus on finding suitable clothing for the day’s work. She dressed quickly and headed for the door. It was harvest season, and broken heart or not she would would be expected in the fields. It wasn’t that her family or neighbors weren’t sympathetic to her loss, it was simply the way of things Brittendell. Everyone pulled their weight, and the bounty was shared through the winter. As difficult as it may be, Aislynn knew Rorin would want her to maintain her commitment to the village. Yet, no matter how hard she tried to move forward, she felt there was something holding her close to her grief.

Aislynn wrapped a light shawl around her shoulders and moved to the door She paused before leaving to give the poorly lit cottage a final glance. Suddenly, her heart caught in her throat. Once again her imagination placed the murky outline of Rorin before her. It seemed as if he stood in the corner just beyond their bed, with his hand outstretched to her.

Will these painful tricks of the mind never end? Tightly closing her eyes, Aislynn turned away and pressed her forehead against the rough wood of the door. When her heart finally stopped racing, she stepped outside and started down the dirt path that led to the fields.

As she hastened down the lane to join her family, Aislynn tried to focus on the here and now. Just keep breathing, keep walking, get to the fields and work until it’s late enough to leave without causing concern. She only had to get through the day and then she could go home and hide from the world she no longer felt a part of.

Aislynn pushed forward, fighting to ignore the knowledge that it was on this same route that Rorin received the wounds that took him from her. Though she had avoided the road so far, there was no other way to the farmlands. She’d have to walk it again and again until the harvest was over, and every year to come.

Though she was steadfast in her resolve to carry on, Aislynn’s mind turned to the day of Rorin’s horrific accident. The sun was shining as brightly that afternoon as it did now. Rorin had left the house early in the morning to help his family prepare for the births of this year’s foals before going into the forest to hunt for the afternoon. He had seen several wild turkeys the day before and was determined to bring one back for dinner.

It wasn’t until that evening when the door to their home was flung open by neighbors carrying Rorin’s bruised and bloodied form, that Aislynn had any notion there was trouble. They told her he’d just ridden past the fields when his horse spooked at something. Though a skilled rider, Rorin was caught by surprise. He had been thrown, and was trapped beneath the hooves of the panicked beast.

Rorin woke once after they brought him home. Aislynn was right at his bedside, stroking his hand and willing him to keep breathing. He looked at her through bleary, pain—filled eyes and told her he loved her. A few minutes later he slipped back into a fitful sleep from which he never woke again. Rorin bravely clung to life for another day before drawing his final breath.

Aislynn shuddered, though her shawl kept the slight morning chill at bay. The memory of her beautiful Rorin so bruised and beaten turned her blood to ice. She wrapped her arms around herself and trudged on, fighting to keep her tears in check. She hated the looks of pity that everyone gave her and didn’t want to show up with red eyes and a blotchy face.

Despite her best efforts, as Aislynn approached the fields and the site of Rorin’s fall, she felt panic setting in. It was like someone was reaching into her chest and squeezing her heart. Her pulse started to race. No matter how hard she tried; she couldn’t seem to draw a deep enough breath. She took a step forward, then another, and then it happened.

The second Aislynn’s foot touched the earth the world started spinning wildly, and somehow she was certain this was the ground on which Rorin had fallen. Her vision flashed and blurred. She could hear the panicked whinny of a horse, see the ground rising to meet her, feel the pounding of hooves on her body. Aislynn dropped to her knees, gasping for air. She shut her eyes tightly, but the terrible scene wouldn’t stop playing in her head. Somewhere in the distance she could hear Rorin calling her name and she knew, without a doubt, that his voice was real.

Aislynn curled into herself, utterly paralyzed by the intensity of the images and sensations. She could hear her name shouted over and over again but was helpless to respond.

Vaguely, she registered a pair of hands take hold of her shoulders, and the voice calling her name changed from Rorin’s to her father’s. The visions slowly faded but when Aislynn opened her eyes the world around her was a foggy sepia haze. What was real? Was it the horror of hooves and pain, or the concerned voices of her father and loved ones? She looked at her father, his face was the same and yet, not his at all.

Aislynn. Come on, sweet girl, come out of it. Papa’s words sounded odd as if muffled by blankets. Aislynn tried to focus on him, but her eyes were drawn past his face. to a swirling translucent figure standing just behind him.

Aislynn’s body shook more violently as her eyes locked with Rorin’s pale grey gaze. She could hear someone laughing maniacally now. To her horror she suddenly realized the laughter was coming from her. Before she could give it further thought the world faded to darkness.

For two days, Aislynn slipped in and out of consciousness. Her dreams were black and full of confusion; dark water rushing up to envelop her, Rorin’s shambling corpse chasing her, or his spirit begging for help.

The brief waking moments weren’t much better. Her family took shifts staying with her, forcing food and water, but they were nothing more than distant shadows. For the most part, Aislynn couldn’t tell dreams from reality. At one point, she struggled so violently that the village healer decided she needed to be bound to the bed lest she cause herself or others harm.

In her delirium Aislynn was only distantly aware of the door when it opened. She registered movement from her sister, Hannah, who sat in a chair by the bed. Struggling to see through the murky nightmares of her mind, Aislynn watched as a cloaked female figure moved toward her. The woman lifted a delicate hand to push back the hood that obscured her face. That same hand reached out to touch Aislynn’s brow and a silvery light cut through the fog and haze of her nightmare world. The screaming confusion in her head grew quieter.

Hello, Aislynn. A gentle voice echoed through her jumbled thoughts. I’m Delphia, and I’ve come to help you and Rorin.

All the chaos in Aislynn’s mind grew still. Her eyes focused on the woman whose hand lay across her forehead. The face she beheld was soft, with deep brown eyes that emanated peace and kindness. Aislynn glanced from Delphia’s face to Hannah’s, then back again. She unclenched her fists. Wh–who are you?

Aislynn? Hannah’s voice was trembling with the strain of unshed tears. Have you really come back to us?

I don’t know, I think so. Aislynn answered, swallowing against a dry throat. She tried to sit up but realized she was still tied to the bed. Could you please release me? She lifted her hand as far as her bonds would allow.

Hannah made a sound between a sob and a laugh before she reached for the strips of fabric that held Aislynn down. Once her hands were free, Aislynn pushed herself up slowly. Her body felt stiff and weak, but strangely lighter.

Delphia sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed Aislynn’s wrists. The contact made her skin tingle. There now, child, are you feeling better?

Aislynn nodded, still slightly discombobulated. What did you do?

A temporary calming spell, the older woman replied. She pulled her hands away and folded them in her lap daintily. Any chafing from the straps on Aislynn’s wrists was gone. Delphia looked at her thoughtfully. It seems I got here just in time.

At this Hannah spoke with more authority, echoing Aislynn’s first question. Who are you?

Delphia offered another reassuring smile. I’m Delphia, of the Sisterhood of Souls; I’ve come from The City of the Blessed.

And why have you come? Aislynn asked as she shifted to sit taller.

Our scrying pools told us we were needed. Delphia looked thoughtful again and Aislynn felt another wave of calm wash over her. Our pools always tell us when a new Soulbound is created.

Aislynn felt her mouth drop open. She simply stared at the other woman, trying to wrap her mind around Delphia’s words.

What? Hannah’s eyes darted from Aislynn’s face to Delphia’s in surprise. The Soulbound are magic users. Aislynn has never shown any magical abilities.

Soulbound are not born magical, but the potential dwells within them. It takes a catalyst to unlock their abilities. It’s only through great tragedy that we achieve our power, Delphia sighed, her eyes growing sad and a little distant. When we lose the person we have given our heart to, not by the normal aging process, but in a way that is sudden or unexpected, a bond is formed between the two souls.

Aislynn’s fingers knotted and twisted the edges of the blankets that lay across her legs. It was so much to take in, but it brought a sense of order to the deep currents of her grief. That’s why ... Aislynn trailed off. She hadn’t told her family that she’d thought she was seeing and hearing Rorin, hadn’t wanted them to worry any more than they already were.

That’s why you can still hear and see your husband, Delphia finished for her.

Aislynn processed this briefly. She had assumed that what she was going through was a normal part of grieving the loss of a spouse. At least, she’d thought that until her breakdown. Then she couldn’t really think at all, just feel, feel so much it seemed like her mind and body were being torn into a thousand tiny pieces. But why don’t I see him now?

Partly due to my intervention, Delphia paused and looked to her side. A soft, wistful expression settled across her features, and she seemed to grow younger. And in part because my Soulmate, Ansen, has helped Rorin to control his energy. She grew somber and turned back to Aislynn. But the peace is temporary. I’m afraid the only way to make it last is to return with me to the City of the Blessed and train at the House of Souls, or you may choose to undergo the Ceremony of Separation.

Aislynn’s eyes locked with Hannah’s. They stared at one another in silence for a brief time. Delphia’s revelations felt too large for the simple setting. Then Aislynn turned, glancing instinctively to the place that Delphia had looked seconds before. Somehow she knew that even though she couldn’t see him, Rorin was standing at her bedside, just as she had done on the day of his death.

Hannah, Aislynn’s voice was quiet but resolute. I think you should go get our parents.

The next morning Aislynn paced nervously through her small home. After a few minutes, she stopped moving and glanced around the room again, making sure she had everything she wanted to take with her. She traced the edge of the table with her fingertips, inhaling shakily; she’d spent her entire life in Brittendell. The furthest Aislynn had ever gone was on a trip with her father to one of the neighboring villages a few summers ago, to buy the horse she would be riding away on today.

How she wished Rorin were here, even in the spectral form he now existed as now, but Delphia had been adamant that until they reached the House of Souls it was too much of a risk. The calming spell would work better if he didn’t try to make contact until they were in the safety of a runed hall. It was imperative they both learn how to harness the power that flowed between them if they wished to remain connected.

Aislynn ran a hand over her face and crossed to the bed, sitting down with a nervous sigh. What am I doing? Just thinking about the magnitude of what she was facing was utterly dizzying. When she was younger, she’d dreamed of seeing far off places, even the City of the Blessed, but she’d never imagined she would be going there to study. It seemed fate had other plans for her, and she had little choice but to follow its design.

A sudden knock on the door startled Aislynn from her thoughts; it was time to leave. She gave her home one last lingering look. Every part of it held memories. She’d planned to spend the rest of her life here with Rorin. They were going to raise a family in this house and grow old together within its walls. Aislynn closed her eyes and smoothed her hands over the bed. For one final time she imagined their children playing on the floor, with Rorin watching on.

She opened her eyes again, resolutely grabbing her knapsack. If this is the only way I can be with him then to the City of the Blessed we’ll go. Aislynn rose, crossed to the door, and without looking back, stepped through it.

Outside, her family and friends were gathered to say farewell and wish her safe travels. Her mother gave her a bundle of food and her father offered a plain dagger and water flask. They held her tightly, whispering how much they loved her with tear laden voices. After that, her sisters and nieces stepped forward to offer their own heartfelt farewells. Aislynn clung to her family, treasuring her final moments in their company for as long as she could. She didn’t question her choice, but saying goodbye wasn’t an easy first step.

Aislynn, Delphia’s voice pulled Aislynn from the comfort of her family. I’m afraid it’s time to depart. We must reach the ferry before sundown.

Aislynn embraced her parents one last time and wiped the tears from her face before she stepped away and mounted her horse. As they started down the road that led out of the valley and away from Brittendell, she turned and looked back on the only home she’d ever known. Her family and friends stood in a huddle in front of the house, holding one another and waving. Aislynn couldn’t tear her eyes away from the image of her loved ones until she rounded the bend and could no longer see them. Then she turned her attention to the road ahead, doing her best to sit as tall and proud as Delphia. She was confident in her course, despite the tears that trickled down her cheeks.

They rode for four days before Aislynn caught her first glimpse of the gleaming white City of the Blessed. It was situated near a pine forest at the foot of a great cliff. A foaming waterfall tumbled behind it to meet the sparkling river that surrounded the magical metropolis. The shining alabaster towers seemed to shimmer and glow in the sunlight. Banners and flags of every shape and color waved in the warm breeze. Aislynn’s breath caught in her throat, it was without compare the most beautiful place she had ever laid eyes on.

Delphia cast a sideways glance in Aislynn’s direction, lips curving in one of her wide, warm smiles that she so often bore. Magnificent, isn’t it?

With her mouth slightly open in an appreciative gasp, all Aislynn could manage in response was a distracted nod.

Shall we hurry home then? Joy resonated in Delphia’s voice. She nudged her horse to a fast trot. Come on, Aislynn, you haven’t seen anything yet.

Aislynn lightly touched her heels to her horse’s flank, urging it to a canter, eager to catch up with her new friend. She was finally going to see her beloved Rorin again. No matter their physical location, his presence would make it home.

Even before they passed through the large metal gates, Aislynn could hear the sounds of the bustling city. There was music coming from several places at once, each and every sound distinct and yet melding into a single enchanting melody. The music seemed to come from both everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Occasionally, there would be a strange whizzing sound followed by a loud pop, and brightly colored smoke would come twisting out into the streets, weaving intricate patterns in the air before vanishing. Bells chimed from countless towers, and elves played wooden pipes as they walked through the streets. Faeries flitted past Aislynn, leaving sparkling gold and silver vapor trails behind them. There was too much to take in. Every sense was ablaze with delight, and the air almost hummed with magic.

For the first time, Aislynn found that the empty ache that had been her constant companion since Rorin’s death was all but gone. She turned her head from side to side, caught up in the undeniable sense of wonder that emanated from the beautiful city. It was like stepping into a faerie ring and finding herself in the realm of the Fae.

They passed vast pillared halls, their marble walls glowing with blue runes. Tiny faerie lanterns twinkled around their palaces made of gossamer spider webs. Aislynn was sure she had entered a dream. It was all so far beyond anything she would ever have been able to imagine in her waking hours. On more than one occasion, Delphia had to turn her horse around and come back to stir Aislynn from an astonished stupor.

To Aislynn, time seemed to stop entirely, and before she knew it, they were pulling their horses to a halt at the bottom of pristine marble stairs that led to a tall, silvery white tower. Once again, she found herself staring and utterly awestruck. The tower, situated in the center of the city, stretched high into the sky, its largest spire shrouded in white fluffy clouds.

We’re here, Delphia said cheerfully as she lithely jumped from her saddle. Two grooms stepped out from the shadows and quickly took hold of the horses’ bridles.

Aislynn followed Delphia closely, quietly whispering her thanks to the grooms as she