Stories Left Untold

12th of Naluna, Year 1512

The moon hung low in the sky, its silvery glow casting long shadows across the Misty Glade. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and the sweet fragrance of night-blooming flowers, a reminder of the magic of the secret spot. In the heart of the glade, two figures stood close together, their breath visible in the cool night air.

Nova pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, her fingers trembling not just from the cold, but from the weight of the moment. It was here, in this idyllic spot, that Nova and Theo had spent countless hours of their childhood, their laughter echoing through the trees. She looked up at Theo, her childhood friend, the one person who had been a constant in her life since they were both small orphans wandering the halls of Mistveil's home for lost children. Theo, with his unruly brown hair and his eyes, a deep shade of amber that had always reminded her of a wild cats, were filled with a mixture of determination and sorrow. A leather satchel, filled with essentials for his journey, rested at his feet. Nova stood beside him, her hand clasped tightly in his.

"You don't have to go," she whispered, her voice barely carrying over the soft rustle of the leaves. "There must be another way."

Theo smiled, a sad, knowing smile that didn't reach his eyes. He reached out and tucked a loose strand of her auburn hair behind her ear, his touch lingering for just a moment. "You know I have to, Nova. Arcadia needs every man they can get, and Nivaria has pledged its support. You know the situation, it is the only way I can make something of myself. This is for all of us."

Nova bit her lip, struggling to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. She had known this day was coming, ever since the messengers from the capital had arrived with the royal decree. But knowing didn't make it any easier. "But what about Mistveil? What about me? " The words slipped out before she could stop them, filled with a raw vulnerability she rarely allowed herself to show even in front of him.

Theo's expression softened, and he gently cupped her face in his hands. "Mistveil will be safe, and you..." His voice caught in his throat, and he took a deep breath before continuing. "You'll be here, waiting for me. And I'll come back to you, Nova. I promise, Nova. As soon as this war is over, I'll be back here, in this very spot. No matter what happens, I'll find my way back. So please don't worry too much. "

A silence fell between them and stood there for a long moment, broken only by the sounds of the distant call of a night bird and the soft murmur of the wind through the soft rustling of leaves of the trees. They had grown up together, inseparable partners who shared everything with each other. The thought of parting was a bitter pill to swallow. Nova wanted to believe him, to hold on to the hope that this wouldn't be the last time they stood together in this glade. But the shadow of war loomed too large, too close.

Finally, Theo stepped back, letting his hands fall to his sides. "I have to go," he said quietly, his voice tinged with regret. "The others will be waiting for me at the edge of the village."

Nova nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Promise me you'll write, "We'll write to each other every day," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Every single day."

"I promise," Theo replied, his tone firm despite the sadness in his eyes. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, a gesture filled with all the unspoken words he couldn't bring himself to say. "Every day."

And then, without another word, he turned and walked away, his figure gradually fading into the mist that gave their village its name. Nova stood there long after he had disappeared, her heart heavy with the knowledge that everything was about to change.

As the moon continued its slow journey across the sky, she finally turned and made her way back to the orphanage, her steps slow and reluctant. She clutched the edges of her cloak tighter around herself, as if trying to hold on to the last traces of warmth from Theo's touch.

In the days and weeks to come, Nova knew she would return to the Misty Glade often, sitting by the old oak tree where she and Theo had spent countless hours as children. She would gaze at the same moon that had witnessed their farewell, and she would wait. And in the depths of her heart, a small flame of hope flickered, refusing to be extinguished by the darkening world around her.