In Caelanthor, the mighty capital of the Kaelon Empire, characterized by golden lion statues, white bridges, and royal markets, people sang and danced joyfully in the open streets.
Elandor, the twenty-eight-year-old king of Kaelon, was a kind-hearted ruler. His entire people loved him.
His father, too, had been a true friend and helper to his people and was revered as a father figure. Elandor followed in these large footsteps.
Kaelon was almost the only kingdom in the entire Middle Valley where a king could walk with his family through the crowd without fear. Few rulers in the eight other kingdoms of the Middle Valley could claim the same.
His wife, Lysandra, twenty-six years old—her name meant "The Liberator"—had not been a noblewoman, but a simple townswoman.
Elandor had fallen in love with her at first sight.
When he first saw her at the royal market, he knew instantly she would be his wife. Their eyes met like magnets and could never be separated. In his vision, he already saw her playing happily with their two future daughters in the castle.
As king, he was used to taking matters into his own hands. He strode straight toward her in the market, his gaze never wavering. But when he stood directly in front of her, just inches away, his voice failed him. He simply stood there, gazing dreamily into her eyes. Lysandra, too, remained speechless, only smiling sweetly and dreamily back.
Normally, a woman would never have dared to do such a thing, to look so deeply into the eyes of a man—let alone the king. But all rules, norms, and taboos seemed to be forgotten. Time seemed to stand still, the world around them faded away.
Suddenly, a tremendous thunderstorm broke—a bad omen? At first, they were undeterred, but as the storm intensified, Elandor protectively wrapped his jacket around Lysandra. They sought refuge in a tavern, where they chatted happily until night fell. Elandor then politely escorted her home.
They met again and again until Elandor proposed to her.
Beneath a golden canopy, they gathered as the Sun Speaker—a priest of Kaelon—drawn a circle around them, the symbol of the sun.
He wrapped a sunband around their hands and spoke the blessing:
"Honora invicem, sicut sol diem." – "Honor one another as the sun honors the day."
They both made their vows:
"In lumine te agnosco." – "In the light I know you."
"In virtute et fide te eligo." – "In virtue and fidelity I choose you."
When the band was untied, they kissed passionately to the cheers of those present.
The Kaelon folk song began, and the Sun River Lion Dance started.
The Kaelorians began singing their Kaelon folk song, first softly, almost like a murmur, then more powerfully, carried by the rhythm of the drums. Voices intertwined, feet began to tap, and soon the people moved around the bridal couple as a single, living entity.
The king and queen joined in the dance.
Elandor and Lysandra lined up, hand in hand with their people, not towering above them, but right among them.
The dancing couples arranged themselves into two wide arcs. They were still open, facing each other, like two breaths seeking one another. The steps were light, almost imperceptible on the stone, and with each movement, arms swung in gentle waves. They were reminiscent of the River Kaelon—and at the same time, of the heavy, vibrant billowing of a lion's mane in the wind.
Then the arms rose, calm and powerful. The sun is honored—and with it, the lion's erect ears, watchful, proud. The arcs began to move, drawing closer together and closing. The semicircles formed a circle, dense and closed: the lion's head, its mane made of people and movements.
Some dancers broke away from the circle, gliding into its center. Their steps were deliberate. Three formed one eye, three the other, calm, collected. Six more aligned themselves to form the muzzle, low and steady. The lion's gaze.
The dancers at the sides stretched their arms wide, as if catching the wind. The mane came alive. In the center, more arms rose, reaching towards the sun—ears and light in one.
Then came the breath.
The dancers at the bottom took a half step forward. The circle widened, as if the lion's chest were filling. A collective inhalation.
A half step back—the chest lowered. Exhalation.
Once more.
And once more.
For a heartbeat, it seemed as if the lion itself stood in the circle, breathing, alive, awake.
The chanting continued, the movement flowed on for about a minute—until the rhythm slowly faded away. The dancers came to a standstill. A warm, expectant silence descended upon the square.
Then the Sun Speaker stepped forward once more.
In a raised voice, he recited the Sun Prayer:
"Solanar'kael, luma'dar zenai mor'nal." ("Sun of Kaelon, guide me through shadow and doubt.")
Elandor and Lysandra turned to each other. Their hands met, their foreheads bowed slightly, and together they spoke the words—softly, just for each other:
"In lumine te agnosco." ("In the light I know you.")
"In virtute et fide te eligo." ("In virtue and faith I will eligo.") ("In courage and loyalty I choose you.")
"Solanar'kael, luma'dar zenai mor'nal." ("Sun of Kaelon, guide me through shadows and doubts.")
Only then did the people join in the call:
"Solanar'kael, luma'dar zenai mor'nal." ("Sun of Kaelon, guide me through shadows and doubts.")
Each on their own, without a counterpart, yet united in sound.
A polyphonic prayer rose, carried by sun, river, and lionhearted courage.
That same day, they conceived their first daughter, Elenya. She was now nine years old. Two years later, Lyrielle followed, now six years old.
Since Elandor's mother had died young from a rare disease, he was constantly tormented by the fear that his daughters might also grow up without a mother. He watched over Lysandra like a hawk. He ensured there were enough Sun Warriors for her protection, Sun Maidens to relieve her burden, and Sun Speakers for her health. He consulted fortune tellers who always assured him that nothing would happen to the queen.
In difficult moments, Lysandra placed her warm hands on his and said gently, "Darling, don't be afraid."
"Nothing will happen to me."
"In lumine te agnosco." – "In the light I recognize you."
"In virtute et fide te semper eligam." – "In courage and fide I will always choose you."
"Fortis mea tibi est." – "My strength is yours."
One day, Elandor heard of a famous fortune teller traveling through the kingdom. He immediately hurried to her with Lysandra.
The old woman in the dark tent praised Elandor's good reputation.
"Your reputation precedes you, My King," said the fortune teller.
"Your kind-hearted heroic deeds touch hearts everywhere, even those outside Kaelon."
"Haha, I hope I live up to my good reputation," Elandor said jokingly.
"I have come to have the sun guide me and my family."
"Of course, My King," said the fortune teller with a large, loving smile.
"It will be an honor to foretell the future for you and your family."
"I am already looking forward to it and can hardly wait to see how many joyful messages the sun will bring you."
The fortune teller laid the cards on the table.
Lysandra drew one first, but before she could even glance at the card, the old fortune teller slammed it down on the table, preventing either Lysandra or Elandor from seeing it.
The old woman fell silent.
When Elandor pressed her and tried to draw his own card, she tried to stop him. Stubborn as a king, Elandor drew it anyway. He turned it over: The Devil.
"The Devil's card!" the fortune teller whispered in horror.
Elandor asked the fortune teller what this meant.
The fortune teller didn't answer.
The fortune teller paused for a few seconds.
"Let's try something else," the fortune teller said.
She took a bag full of bones, shook it several times, and then threw the bones onto the table.
Again, the fortune teller said nothing.
But her expression betrayed that it was nothing good.
Elandor asked the fortune teller what this meant.
Lysandra was visibly worried, but she paused.
"These aren't very accurate," said the fortune teller.
"Let's use the crystal ball instead."
"It offers the best and most accurate predictions," the fortune teller smiled, slightly disturbed.
Finally, she produced her crystal ball.
Covered by a cloth, she removed the cloth from the ball.
It glowed beautifully in bright blue, pink, and violet.
But when the fortune teller and the couple touched the ball, both the ball and the fortune teller's eyes turned pitch black. The old woman couldn't remove her hands; she was trembling all over.
When she finally managed to take her hands off the ball, she broke out in a sweat, and panic was etched on her face. Her expression was indescribable. It seemed as if she had just met the devil himself.
Lysandra seized the moment and turned over the card she had drawn earlier: Death. Shocked, she dropped the card.
Elandor, too, saw the map, and for a brief moment his heart stopped and his breath caught in his throat.
"I must go now," the fortune teller said, frightened and confused.
"You have nothing to fear, my king."
"Everything will be all right."
"I've just been having a bad day," she smiled slightly, though still frightened.
And without another word, the fortune teller climbed into her carriage and left Kaelon without even looking back.
Since then, Elandor has found no peace.
He guarded Lysandra day and night, even binding her to him while she slept, so as not to lose her.
Lysandra endured it with love and patience, reassuring him again and again:
"We will be together forever, my beloved Elandor."
"Don't worry, darling."
"Nothing will happen to me."
"I will never leave you, no matter what happens."
"No matter what life I live in, I will always be with you."
"I will always choose you, my beloved."
"In virtute et fide te semper eligam." – "In virtue and fidelity, I will always choose you."