Chapter 4 Eli
Blood moon?" Lyriel narrowed her eyes. She had never heard of such a moon before. "And what lies beyond?"
"The world of men. Grey skies and evil, but also colours you've never seen, and feelings you can't name."
Lyriel reached toward the light. It pulsed warmly, like a heartbeat meeting hers. "Then I must see it."
"If you cross, you'll lose your glow. Magic thins there. You might even forget who you are."
She looked back at Eloria— the glowing Crystal towers, her home. Then forward, at the veil. "Maybe I need to forget," she whispered. "Only then will I truly know."
The pixie hovered nervously. "At least tell me your father's spirit should guard you."
Lyriel smiled. "If he made it there, I'll find him."
And with that, she stepped through. Light folded around her, too bright to bear. For an instant she felt her wings dissolve into sparks. Then came a rush of air, the smell of rain and the sound of water beating stone.
When the light faded, the forest was gone.
She was standing on a riverbank beneath a sky the colour of iron. The world was heavy here, quiet except for the wind and the cry of distant birds. Her gown clung to her body as it became wet from the rain, and her wings grew damp and faint.
"So this is the world of men…" she murmured
In the realm of the faeries, the air shimmered with colors unseen by mortal eyes—a world of beauty beyond measure. She had expected the human world to be no different, but here, everything was dark, lonely, and bleak. For the first time in her life, Lyriel felt… cold.
"Humans live here? It's colder than I imagined." she whispered, her voice barely more than a tremor carried by the rain. "How do they survive without magic?"
She stepped barefoot into the grass. It was coarse, uneven—not like the soft glow-moss that carpeted her homeland. Beyond the river lay a small village, its rooftops puffing thin smoke into the sky. The scent reached her—woodfire, bread, iron, and earth.
Her curiosity swelled. She wanted to see everything, to touch, to taste, to understand. She took a few steps toward the water, but her wings… they were fading and wet from the rain. What could she do about it? Nothing. She just stood there, hoping that her stay in the human world wouldn’t turn out to be a nightmare.
After some time, Lyriel felt a presence behind he— a very ominous one. She turned around sharply, her heart racing wildly. She had expected to see a beast, or perhaps an evil being charging toward her, but to her surprise, a young man stood a few feet away, holding a beautiful sword. His brown hair was tousled, his eyes wide and sunlit, the color of autumn honey. He was human. For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.
Lyriel stared, wide-eyed, at the first human she had ever seen— a very handsome being. There were days when she had prayed for this moment, but here she was, actually living it. He was exactly what the books in the library described humans to look like, except for the parts where they mentioned evil and sly. Although she didn’t know this human, she could tell there was nothing evil about him. He looked so calm and...hard to read.
The young man frowned slightly, and said, “Are you… lost?”
“I…” She looked around helplessly, trying to think of an answer. “Yes. Lost.”
He sheathed his sword, studying her with that open, mortal curiosity. His clothes were simple— a rough linen shirt, trousers and boots muddied from the rain. But there was something in his gentle gaze that made her chest ache strangely.
“Who are you, and where are you from?” he asked.
“I… I come from the north!” she lied. There was no way she could tell someone she had just met that she was a fae from another world. She could only imagine the chaos it would cause.
The man tilted his head. “Where exactly in the north?”
“I don’t know… I can’t remember.” Lyriel could feel her heart beating wildly in her chest from anxiety. What if this human realized she was lying?
“You can’t remember?” The man’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“I can’t… I… I don’t know how I got here… but I am human! A human from this world!”
The man laughed— a warm, unguarded sound that startled her. She was surprised. He laughed, mistaking her wonder for fear.
“If you are, then I hope you’re a kind one. My name’s Eli.”
“Eli,” she repeated, tasting the syllables like a foreign fruit. “I’m Lyriel.”
“ Come on, you shouldn’t be wandering alone by the river. Wolves roam these parts.”
“Wolves?”
He nodded
She followed him silently, her bare feet brushing against the earth. In the distance, temple bells rang repeatedly. The sound was unlike anything in Eloria. It carried a sadness, a reverence that tugged gently at her heart.
Eli noticed her listening. “It’s for evening prayers,” he said. “You’ll get used to it.”
She nodded absently. “It sounds… strange.”
He blinked, half smiling. “You talk funny, Lyriel.”
She smiled. “So… where exactly are we heading?”
“Well, I was heading home before the storm gets worse. You’ll catch a cold if you stay out here alone.”
“Cold?” she repeated, tilting her head. "It’s… an illness, yes?”
“Not exactly. It just means you’ll shiver and sneeze a lot.”
She frowned, genuinely curious. “Sneezing sounds unpleasant.”
“Trust me, it is.” He offered his hand. “Come on, my cottage isn’t far."
Lyriel hesitated. She’d been warned never to enter a mortal’s dwelling, it would bind her to their world, weaken her magic even faster. Yet, as she looked up at the gray sky and the falling rain, something in Eli’s eyes made her trust him. It wasn’t enchantment or spellcraft; it was simple, honest kindness.
“Very well,” she said, placing her hand in his. His palm was warm. “Lead the way.”
The path wound through the forest, slick with rain. Lyriel walked barefoot, unbothered by the mud, though Eli kept glancing down at her feet with worry.
“You’re not from any of the nearby towns, are you?” he asked at last.
“No,” she said softly. “I honestly can’t remember.”
“I find it hard to believe,” Eli said. “You have to be honest with me if you want my help.”
Lyriel swallowed. She was caught in a dilemma and didn’t know what to do next. The human was smarter than she thought, and very handsome indeed. He had an aura that made him look almost perfect... almost dark and mysterious... trustworthy.
“I come from another world.” She lowered her gaze, expecting him to look surprised or even run away, but instead, he gave her a sideways look.
“I’d rather just stick to the story about you not remembering where you’re from,” Eli said. “
“I’m telling the truth. You have to believe me,” she argued. How could he dismiss something like that without even asking for proof?
“Yeah, I believe you,” Eli said, but it was obvious he didn’t.