Chapter 10 - The Eternal Shore
Years passed, and the kingdom of Aethelgard entered a golden age unlike any seen in its long, turbulent history.
The wars of the western coast became ancient history, taught to royal children as a cautionary tale of greed and the price of stolen hearts. Prince Dorian’s name was stricken from the royal genealogies, remembered only as a shadow that once threatened to choke the light from the land.
Queen Elara ruled wisely and justly for decades. She never married, though many suitors sought her hand; she often told her chancellors that her heart already belonged to a partner greater than any mortal prince—to the vast, untamed, beautiful sea that bordered her realm.
And often, on quiet summer evenings when the sun dipped below the horizon in a blaze of violet and gold, Elara would walk alone down to the deserted sands of the western coast.
She would stand at the water’s edge, where the foaming surf kissed her boots, and watch the horizon.
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Sometimes, far out beyond the breaking waves, she would catch a glimpse of silver-blue hair shimmering beneath the surface, and a pair of luminous violet eyes looking back at her with ancient, steadfast affection.
And the pearl resting against her throat would pulse once—gently, warmly, like a greeting between old friends—before fading back into the eternal, beautiful song of the sea.
