The forest was quieter than she expected. Only the soft murmur of the stream and the occasional rustle of leaves disturbed the stillness. Celeste held the glowing fragment close, the warmth radiating through her palms like a heartbeat she could feel in her chest. Her legs were sore from the day's journey, but exhaustion was secondary to the nervous flutter that refused to leave her stomach.
The prince, sitting across from her, watched the shadows beyond the clearing. His gaze was distant, calculating, yet something softer lingered there, though she could not name it. When he finally spoke, his voice broke the silence without startling her.
You will have to learn, he said. To control it, to understand it. The words were simple, but the weight behind them pressed on her like the night itself. Celeste shook her head. I can't. I don't even know what it is.
The prince's expression did not change, though she sensed a flicker of something in his eyes, almost like patience. You are not like the others, he said. That is why it chose you. And if you are not ready, no one else can prepare you.
Her stomach twisted. Chosen. The word had no place in her quiet village life, yet now it hung over her like a shadow she could not escape. I don't want this, she whispered. I just want to go home.
He looked at her fully for the first time, and something in the hardness of his features softened. Home is behind you now, he said quietly. Behind you and everything you thought you were.
Celeste swallowed hard, trying to make sense of the strange mixture of fear and reassurance in his words. She had no choice. The fragment pulsed again, brightening slightly, responding to her hesitation. It felt alive, aware, demanding. She could not ignore it.
Fine, she said finally, her voice trembling. I will try.
The prince nodded once. Tomorrow, we begin in earnest, he said. Tonight, you rest. But remember, the fragment will respond to what you feel. Fear, doubt, hesitation. It will sense them. Do not let them take control.
Celeste tried to imagine controlling something she barely understood, something that seemed to exist outside the world she had known. Her palms tingled as she held it closer. The warmth was comforting but also terrifying.
The night deepened. The stars above shimmered faintly through the branches, their light reflected in the fragment's gentle glow. Celeste closed her eyes, letting the warmth seep into her mind, trying to steady her racing heart.
Sleep did not come easily. Shadows shifted beyond the clearing, subtle movements that made her muscles tense. Every so often, she thought she glimpsed figures at the edges of the trees, watching, waiting. The fragment pulsed in response, as if acknowledging danger she could not yet see.
When she opened her eyes, the prince was standing beside her. His silhouette was sharp against the silver glow. He knelt beside her and held out his hand. Come, he said. There is something you must understand.
Her legs trembled as she rose to her feet. He led her to the edge of the stream, where the water reflected the stars above like a second sky. The fragment hovered between her palms, its light now steady but warm, alive with potential.
The prince crouched, holding out his hand toward the fragment. It responded instantly, lifting higher, circling between them. You see, he said, it listens. It reacts not to force, but to intent. To understanding.
Celeste frowned. Intent and understanding were not things she could summon at will. She had been a quiet girl, careful not to draw attention, careful not to act before thinking. How could she command something that lived in light itself?
Try, he said softly. Only try. Do not worry about success. The fragment will teach you, if you are willing.
She focused, closing her eyes again, taking a deep breath. The warmth spread through her fingers, up her arms, and into her chest. Her heartbeat matched the pulse of the fragment, slow and steady at first, then quickening. Images flashed behind her eyelids. Stars streaking across the sky. Shadows moving beneath the light. Faces she did not recognize. Moments she had never lived.
A gasp escaped her lips as the light surged, brighter than before, then receded, as if satisfied with her effort. She opened her eyes and saw the prince watching her intently. You see, he said. You have felt it. That is the first step.
Celeste's knees weakened. She sank to the ground, trembling. I don't know what I did, she admitted.
You listened, he said simply. And that is more than most ever manage.
For a moment, silence wrapped around them again. The fragment floated gently, pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat. The danger of the night had not vanished. Figures still lingered at the edges of her awareness, distant yet persistent. But she felt a fragile sense of control, a tiny spark that had not been there before.
The prince stood, offering her his hand once more. Come. Rest. You will need strength for tomorrow.
Celeste took his hand, noticing the warmth in his grip, the steadiness that contrasted with the chaos in her own mind. She wanted to pull away, to remind herself he was dangerous, unknown, but she did not. Something told her it was not just the fragment that demanded trust. Perhaps, in some way, so did he.
As they returned to the clearing, the stars above glimmered softly, distant and patient, watching as the first lesson of a long journey began. The warmth in her hands reminded her that she could not run. That she was part of something far larger than herself. That she was chosen. And that nothing would ever let her return to the quiet life she had known.
For the first time, she felt it. Possibility. And fear. And a strange, thrilling mix of both.
The fragment pulsed once more, gently, almost approvingly. Celeste shivered. Tomorrow, she realized, would change everything.
And she was ready, in the quietest, most terrified way, to begin.