Threads Of Forever

-LIFETIME TWO-

They never spoke of the strange pull between them, but it was always there. The way their paths seemed to cross by accident-by fate. A glance here, a hand brushed there. Each fleeting moment felt like a thread pulling them closer.

But the war raged on. The kingdom of Valeria was at the brink of collapse, and every battle seemed to cost more than the last. Corwin began to see the toll it took on Elyana-her exhaustion, her grief as she healed the same men again and again, knowing that not all of them would make it through.

One night, after a particularly brutal skirmish, he found her alone in a small, dimly lit tent, her head bowed over a wooden table, the dim light casting shadows on her face. She didn't notice him approach until he was right beside her.

"Elyana," he said softly, the name tasting strange on his tongue.

She looked up, her eyes tired but warm. "Corwin."

He sat down beside her, though there was no room for words between them. Neither of them knew what to say. But she didn't push him away. She simply leaned her head on his shoulder, a silent comfort in the midst of all the death surrounding them.

For the first time in a long while, Corwin felt the weight of the world ease, just a little. He closed his eyes, letting himself rest in the quiet that surrounded them.

And in that moment, both of them knew that no matter what happened on the battlefield tomorrow, no matter how far fate pushed them apart, there was something between them. A connection. A promise.
_____________________________________________

The battles were endless.

Corwin had become accustomed to the chaos-his sword never still, his armor weighed down with the blood of enemies and comrades alike. But even amidst the chaos, there were moments of stillness. It was in those rare, fleeting moments that he caught glimpses of something he couldn't quite name-something in the way Elyana's hands moved, so gentle yet so assured, as she healed the wounded.

His golden eyes, always searching, always alert, would follow her as she worked.

She seemed to shine amidst the blood and ash, her face always so calm, even as the cries of the dying echoed around her. The sun had begun to set during the last battle, casting an orange glow over the horizon, and in that light, he saw her-a figure kneeling beside the injured, her eyes soft but focused. The warm light of the evening seemed to make her glow, as if the world around her had faded, leaving only the image of her-graceful, yet steadfast, a stark contrast to the horrors of war.

And when she looked up, catching his gaze from across the field, her own eyes-clear and brown, full of compassion-locked onto his.

It was an instant.

The connection was sharp, tangible, as if he could feel it in his chest.

Corwin blinked, almost shaking his head in confusion. He had been through battles, sieges, bloodshed, and yet the look in her eyes... It had unsettled him. She was just another healer, just another face among the countless others in the war-torn kingdom.

But there was something in her eyes that made him think of things he had long buried-things that had no place in the heat of battle.

He tried to ignore it, to bury the thought, but it lingered-like the golden light of dusk that lingered after the sun had dipped below the horizon.

Over the next few days, he would find himself seeking her out, even in the middle of chaos.

When the tension of battle left his shoulders tight, he would catch a glimpse of her bending over an injured soldier, her fingers steady as she tied a bandage or placed a cool cloth on a fevered forehead. He would watch her golden-brown eyes flicker between the men she saved and the ones she couldn't, the sadness in her gaze not unlike his own, a mirror he had never expected to see.