Call of the Silverveil - ch. 1

Instructions

The lake was quiet that morning, as if it, too, were listening to the girl with stars in her voice and the prince—his cloak still damp from dew—whose gaze never wandered from her. Even 7 years later, she still loved this lake. Aurelia sat with her bare feet in the cool water, her soft blonde curls kissed by the morning sunlight and her eyes the pale gray of mist-shrouded dawn. She felt the gentle tug of the lake in her bones, a comfort she could never explain—but today, her heart throbbed with something else, something fleeting and slightly sharp. Aurelia moved like a girl caught between dreams and reality. Her long, wavy hair was the soft color of sunlight through mist—an almost silvery brown that shimmered when it caught the light. Strands often escaped their loose twists to curl around her face, framing it like ivy on old stone. Her skin was pale but warm-toned, kissed by the sun in fleeting moments, and dusted with faint freckles along her cheeks and collarbones, as though the stars had once brushed against her. Her eyes were her most striking feature—wide and glassy, a pale lake-blue that seemed to hold secrets just beneath the surface. They reflected the world with quiet intensity, as if always searching for meaning in the rustle of leaves or the shape of a passing cloud. There was something otherworldly about the way she looked at things—like she wasn’t just seeing them, but remembering them. She wore earth-toned skirts and soft, layered fabrics that swayed with her steps, often paired with worn boots muddied from her walks near the lake. A simple necklace hung around her neck, a delicate charm in the shape of a crescent moon—something she’d had for as long as she could remember. Aurelia carried the air of someone who belonged to the woods and the water alike, a girl stitched from the legends she grew up reading. “What are you staring at?” she asked, nudging the prince playfully. “You, Aurelia, my love,” Prince Kaelen replied softly, his amber eyes warm with sincerity. She glanced at him and then out across the water. “You never cease to amaze me, Prince Kaelen.” The lake stretched before them, its surface smooth as polished glass, reflecting the pale sky and the forest’s mist-wreathed edge. Wisps of fog curled over the water like ribboned ghosts, drifting inland to shroud the worn path to Evermere’s cobbled streets. The air smelled of damp earth and pine—an aroma Aurelia had come to cherish more than fresh-baked bread or her mother’s rose potion. Aurelia’s toes skimmed the mirrored surface, sending tiny ripples that whispered secrets as they faded. The lake seemed to sigh—a single, soft breath—and then stilled once more. It always did this at dawn, as if the world held its breath, waiting for something ancient to stir. Even the birds were silent, their morning songs paused in respectful hush. Beyond the water, the forest rose dark and tangled, branches twisting skyward like the ribs of some buried creature. Only a narrow ribbon of worn earth marked the trail back to Evermere, where smoke curled from chimneys and shopkeepers readied their stalls for the day. Aurelia wondered, not for the first time, how a place so small could harbor such deep magic. With the lake’s quiet watch and the handsome prince beside her, it seemed like a perfect day. But even perfect days begin with silence—just before something stirs. “Do you remember the first time you came here with me?” Aurelia asked, her voice low, the water lapping around her ankles. Kaelen chuckled—warmth in each note. “How could I forget? I was trying so hard to act unimpressed.” “You were the worst at pretending,” she teased, remembering. “You said the mist felt like ‘ghosts breathing down your neck.’” “Well,” he shrugged, eyes dancing, “in my defense, I’d never been anywhere where the trees actually whispered.” She smiled, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “And now?” “Now it’s my favorite place in the world,” he said without hesitation. “Because you’re here.” A blush bloomed on her cheeks—roses against pale dawn—and her throat tightened. She looked away, feigning fascination with a lone bird that skimmed the water’s surface. “You’re getting better at saying those things without stuttering.” He watched her as though she were the sunrise itself. “I’ve had practice.” A gentle silence settled between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Aurelia’s mind drifted to the curtained room in her family’s cottage, where her mother fussed over her hair and her father pressed her to make a proper friend—yet all she had ever needed was this lake. Then, more quietly, Kaelen asked, “You said the lake spoke to you once when you were younger. Do you still hear it?”