The last thing Arin Vale remembered was the rain. Cold, endless rain — and a flash of headlights that cut through it like a blade.
He'd pushed the child out of the way. He was sure of that much. Then, silence. And now… warmth.
When Arin opened his eyes, he was lying in a meadow of silver grass that shimmered beneath two suns. The air itself seemed to hum softly, as if the world was breathing.
"Am I… dreaming?"
He sat up slowly. His body felt light, too light, as if gravity had lost interest in him. Beyond the meadow stretched a vast forest glowing faintly with bioluminescent flowers. Rivers of light twisted through the trees like veins. It was beautiful — impossibly beautiful — and deeply wrong.
"Don't move."
The voice was sharp, commanding.
Arin turned his head and froze.
A woman stood before him, clad in polished silver armor that reflected the twin suns. Long hair, the color of moonlight, spilled over her shoulder. Her emerald eyes locked onto his, sharp as blades but quivering with something unspoken.
A sword's tip glinted inches from his throat.
"State your name and origin, stranger."
Arin blinked. "I—uh, Arin. Arin Vale. I don't know where I am. One moment I was—"
"Lies," she snapped. "No one crosses the border alive."
Her tone was ice, but her hand trembled faintly on the hilt. He noticed then — blood streaked across her armor, a deep gash on her shoulder.
"You're hurt."
"Silence—!" she began, but stumbled forward, catching herself with her free hand.
Without thinking, Arin moved to steady her. "Hey, easy. You're bleeding badly—"
"Don't touch—"
Her words cut off the moment his hand brushed her arm.
A warmth flooded through him, a pulse that wasn't his own. For an instant, he saw flashes — her memories, her pain, her loneliness. A battlefield beneath a crimson sky. A dying oath whispered to no one.
Then the warmth deepened — like two heartbeats finding the same rhythm.
The woman's eyes widened. "What… what have you done?"
"I—don't know," Arin gasped. "It just happened—"
Light burst from the wound on her shoulder, the blood fading into sparks. She looked down, disbelieving, as the pain disappeared.
"You healed me," she whispered. "No… not healing. Something else."
Arin's vision swayed, the world spinning as the warmth inside him grew too bright.
A connection has been formed.Soul Bond: Incomplete.
The words weren't spoken — they echoed inside his head, soft and divine.
When he looked up again, the woman's sword was gone. Her hand hovered near his cheek instead, as if she were afraid to touch him again.
"My name is Lyara," she said quietly. "Knight-Captain of Elarion. You shouldn't exist here… and yet, somehow, you do."
Arin tried to answer, but darkness crept at the edge of his vision.
Lyara caught him before he fell, his head resting lightly against the cold steel of her armor.
She looked down at him, her voice barely a whisper."Who are you, Arin Vale… and why does my heart ache when I look at you?"
And as the suns dipped behind the horizon, the first bond between two souls — one human, one elven — began to awaken.