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Aetheris Chapter 4
Chapter 4"Whispers of the Buried Past"
The morning breeze carried the scent of damp earth and the faintest whisper of salt from a distant sea. Havenmoore’s outskirts were quiet at dawn, bathed in the soft hues of a rising sun. The cool air curled around Elara’s cloak as she stood beside Vela, her loyal mare, staring toward the endless horizon.
She drew in a deep breath, filling her lungs with the crisp morning air, and exhaled slowly.
It was the first day of her true journey.
A part of her had imagined what this moment would feel like for years. As a child, buried in ancient texts, she had dreamed of uncovering forgotten histories, of revealing mysteries that had outlasted time itself. Now, at nineteen, she was finally taking her first steps toward that dream—yet there was a certain weight to it that she had not foreseen.
Failure was a possibility. She could die. She could return empty-handed, a fool chasing illusions. But she would not let herself disappear into obscurity.
No. She would carve her name into this world.
She placed a steadying hand on Vela’s side, murmuring soft words to her horse as the beast exhaled through her nostrils. The warmth was comforting, grounding—a reminder that even on the brink of the unknown, she was not completely alone.
By sunset, Havenmoore welcomed the night with torches flickering in the streets, casting long shadows across the worn cobblestone roads.
A Reunion at the Guild
Rhyke arrived precisely at dusk. Elara had spotted him riding in earlier—his armor still dusted with road travel, his twin daggers resting comfortably at his belt. He didn’t come straight to the Guild but had handled whatever business he had before bothering to meet with her.
Now, as she sat waiting inside the dimly lit Guildhall, he finally made his entrance.
“Glad to see you didn’t run off,” Rhyke remarked with his usual smirk, taking a seat across from her. He lifted a brow. “Ready?”
Elara leaned...
The morning breeze carried the scent of damp earth and the faintest whisper of salt from a distant sea. Havenmoore’s outskirts were quiet at dawn, bathed in the soft hues of a rising sun. The cool air curled around Elara’s cloak as she stood beside Vela, her loyal mare, staring toward the endless horizon.
She drew in a deep breath, filling her lungs with the crisp morning air, and exhaled slowly.
It was the first day of her true journey.
A part of her had imagined what this moment would feel like for years. As a child, buried in ancient texts, she had dreamed of uncovering forgotten histories, of revealing mysteries that had outlasted time itself. Now, at nineteen, she was finally taking her first steps toward that dream—yet there was a certain weight to it that she had not foreseen.
Failure was a possibility. She could die. She could return empty-handed, a fool chasing illusions. But she would not let herself disappear into obscurity.
No. She would carve her name into this world.
She placed a steadying hand on Vela’s side, murmuring soft words to her horse as the beast exhaled through her nostrils. The warmth was comforting, grounding—a reminder that even on the brink of the unknown, she was not completely alone.
By sunset, Havenmoore welcomed the night with torches flickering in the streets, casting long shadows across the worn cobblestone roads.
A Reunion at the Guild
Rhyke arrived precisely at dusk. Elara had spotted him riding in earlier—his armor still dusted with road travel, his twin daggers resting comfortably at his belt. He didn’t come straight to the Guild but had handled whatever business he had before bothering to meet with her.
Now, as she sat waiting inside the dimly lit Guildhall, he finally made his entrance.
“Glad to see you didn’t run off,” Rhyke remarked with his usual smirk, taking a seat across from her. He lifted a brow. “Ready?”
Elara leaned...
