"Yes, love indeed is light from heaven; A spark of that immortal fire with angels shared, ... given to lift from earth our low desire." - Lord Byron

The gentle rapping of Aedan's fingers on the door disturb my wandering thoughts to last night's meeting as I ready for the celebrations.

"Rabbit, give me a moment. I'm just struggling with the last thing"

"Really Laelia? How are you still not ready? I left you with that dressmaker hours ago."

Rolling my eyes with an internal sigh, I answer him diplomatically. "Aedan, I cannot wear a simple pair of pants and a shirt like you do, and the tailor didn't have a suitable dress. It took him some time to make the right one from what he had available."

His groan reverberates on the outside of my door. The scowl of disapproval nesting on his face melts away when I open the door. "You are so rebellious!"

"Is it too much?" I ask as I gesture to the pale mint coloured dress I am wearing.

His face lights up in amazement and admiration. "No, Sunshine, you look absolutely perfect! This suits you much better than our white." He offers me his elbow. "Ready to enchant?"

Slipping my hand into his elbow, I hide my blush behind my golden mask with green and yellow feathers.

The hall has been lavishly decorated with plants, candles, and golden material, giving it an ethereal appearance. Sturdy wooden benches are scattered throughout the courtyard, some already occupied with men in earnest arm-wrestling competitions.

We are met by a sea of elves dressed in white - all with faces of odd anticipation, except Elorhim whose veins seem to pop out as he gives me a disapproving glare. Faolan, only betraying his surprise at my choice of a colourful dress with slightly lifted eyebrows and the upwards tilted corners of his mouth, stands with Elorhim and Pa'Drig at the head of the hall. The prince's eggplant-coloured attire makes his dark hair seem more purple than black.

An immediate silence settles among us as we turn to a new arrival at the door. Following their lead, my eyes meet with the ocean blue eyes of Khairrim Cadeyrn, the Second One.

I have often read tales and heard poems of how Dubhan and Aelia fell in love, yet I have never believed them. How can anyone fall in love with a single glance? You might fall in a fit of passion. It is neither love at first sight nor passion that I experience in the timeless moment that our eyes lock, but rather an undeniable pull, like the ocean's current dragging you into deeper, dangerous waters to drown.

From the corner of my eye I watch Faolan walk to him, yet my being remains submerged in this inexplicable bond.

"My lord, it is an honour to welcome you."

The Lord of Water and Sun swims out of the current first when he breaks eye contact to turn to Faolan, placing his hand on my brother's shoulder. "Dear Faolan, it is not necessary for the formality. It makes the air tight and the people stiff."

Faolan smiles while Elorhim gives a half-hearted chuckle.

Gasping for my thoughts, I unwisely continue to study Khairrim Cadeyrn. Even though I have seen him many times, it feels as if a dam has burst, allowing me to truly glimpse him for the first time.

Aedan mutters something to me, but it is drowned out by the hammering of my heart in my ears.

Whatever this is, it did not end well.

The strange thought falls into silence as the chatter in the hall dies out and I fix my attention on Faolan standing regally on the stone platform.

"Dear friends, it is an honour to welcome you at this feast! This is the first gathering in many years with so many elves and humans together. We are indebted to your hospitality, Prince Pa'Drig. Thank you for allowing us to host our Recruitment in your fine city. We are honoured to welcome our Lord Protector at the festivities."

The hall bustles with excitement. Pa'Drig gives an interesting enough speech, and then announces the commencement of the festivities. Throughout the speech I feel eyes burning into me, but whenever I look towards the source, Khairrim Cadeyrn glances in the opposite direction.

"I'm going to get us something to drink," Aedan whispers, but I barely hear him.

My eyes have once again locked with the eyes of the Second One, and this time I can't help but be drowned. He starts to make his way towards me without ever breaking eye contact. His golden curls are slightly damp, as if he swam in the ocean just prior to coming here.

My heart beats faster with every step he takes towards me. He is clean-shaven. Somehow, I know that I won't like it if a beard obscures his strong jaw - clenched, as if he is fighting an inner demon for control. Miraculously my heart doesn't hammer out of my chest when he stops just a pace from me. The silence stretches on.

I try to pry into his soul while drowning in the hurricane of unfamiliar emotions raging against each other in his azure eyes. A shiver runs down my spine as he looks into my being - my emotions hopefully hidden behind my feathered mask.

A slight smile reaches the corner of his mouth, but it is immediately replaced by a harsh, set look. "You aren't dressed in white," he says without a hint of accusation in his voice, yet the stony look he gives me makes me cringe.

"Everyone else is."

I study him silently. He is also dressed in white. His clothes aren't outrageously expensive. They are of quality, but definitely worth less than Faolan's clothes. Unlike us, he has no cultural obligation to wear white , but he chose to wear the same clothes as those who serve him.

A slight smile breaks through the stone, but it quickly withers as he continues to drown me. I wish I knew what else to tell him, but my mind is as white as the clothes he is wearing. Suddenly I can't handle the suffocating intensity of his stare. So, of course I do what I am good at: I walk away and mix with the crowd.

Aedan finds me some time later with a drink: "Where did you disappear to? I told you to wait there for me. "

"Sorry, I was trying to escape an inevitable conversation." The relief from the enchantment of a golden-haired man is short-lived as my gaze continues to wander towards him.

"Would you care for a dance, Princess?"

"I don't care much for dancing." The astonishment he exhibits is mirrored by my own. Where does that passive aggressiveness stem from?

He touches the small of my back and steers me to the dancefloor. "I care for dancing. I think that apart from being a socially binding factor it can actually be quite enjoyable - if you have the right partner. Darkwood, just relax and allow me to take control and steer you."

I honestly don't know what to say to his arrogance.

"I don't care for the elves' dancing too much. It is dead. I like the more lively dances of humans more, like the music that is playing." As if in response to his praise, the flutes and drums flare up, giving chase to an exotic melody. He takes my hand and spins me twice then pulls me in close to his body. "Princess, don't resist. Let me lead and do the work for you."

A hundred replies, all supressed by the knowledge that I cannot make a scene and disgrace the fine families of Darkwood and Elderlight, whirl in my head. Instead of voicing them, and to distract me from his muscles so close to mine, I focus on the other occupants of the dance floor.

Faolan is on the dancefloor with the recruit from today. With her pale pink dress and string of flamingo shells, she looks like a mermaid. Although they are not apart of Ligtland's recognised races, my people have always had close ties with the mer.

"Princess Laelia of the family Darkwood, what is so interesting that you cannot focus here?"

Like a deer caught off guard by a hunter, I lack an inventive reply, sharing my true thoughts. "Um, I was just thinking, um, thinking of the recruit from today, and where she came from."

He pulls me closer then spins me yet again. "If I have to be honest, she was quite surprise for me as well. I never knew about her," he whispers in my ear as I am drawn to him, obliterating any space existing between us and making my knees feel oddly weak.

Why is he being this honest with me?

He spins me away from him and I almost slam into his chest again, but at the last moment he catches me into his arms, completely engulfing me. "Laelia, where are your thoughts?"

Against my better knowledge, I meet his eyes again.

"I'm not completely sure. They seem to have lost all their mind."

Again, the faint smile, but this time it lingers.

He seems to slow down until we are all but standing still in the middle of the dancefloor. He swallows, as if drinking words that he cannot say.

"We'd better start dancing. People are starting to stare," I say before I can start squirming under their - but most importantly, his - gaze.

He nods, as if reluctantly, and starts to spin and steer me through the dancefloor to the joyous beat of the music. The dance, that could stretch on for eternity, ends abruptly, yet he continues to hold me in a tight embrace.

"I told you that I don't care much for dancing, but in fact, dancing doesn't care for me. I think I just embarrassed you," I say with racing breath.

He looks at me with a skew smile. "It takes much more than a single dance to embarrass me. I don't really think it is possible for anyone to embarrass me. I'm just too brilliant."

I might agree with him there. He is quite charming.

"Although, there was this one time that someone embarrassed me beyond measure. It was many, many years ago. There was this girl that I liked in the village next to ours. She was beautiful. She had big eyes, as green as grass. I cannot remember the colour of her hair, but I think that is because I never actually saw her hair. She used to cover her face, as was the custom in her village.

"So, there I was, dressed up in my best clothes with my face washed and my hair combed - which was quite a feat, for young Khairrim was a farmer's boy. And I was pulling the cart to the next village, hoping to meet her. I even picked some flowers from our farm for her."

I look at him, confused to say the least. Is he nervous? What in ArBrae can make the Second One nervous? He sees my confusion, and a shadow of a blush forms on his cheeks.

"I am a moron. I am babbling about an inconsequential girl who hasn't existed in millennia and who doesn't own my heart, while I have the fairest woman of all at my side. I apologise for my lapse in manners. Would you like to go outside? It is quite stuffy in here."

I nod, partly because I want to hear the rest of his story, but mostly because I am enjoying his company.

He offers me the cranny of his elbow and escorts me to outside. The music from the hall fades away as the tranquility of the moonless night envelopes us.

The thought crosses my mind that he must be just as uncomfortable in there as I am, and it causes a smile to crawl onto my face.

"What are you thinking, Princess?"

"Nothing important."

He doesn't press me for an answer as we continue to walk in amicable silence. The stars shine down on us, dancing joyously like little diamonds scattered on a wet floor.

"Thank you for giving me a reason to escape the hall."

I look down, back to him and frown.

"I just feel too obvious in there. Everybody is too careful to be in my presence. They feel uncomfortable with me there. I am actually a celebration cessator."

"Cessator? I am sure the word does not exist."

"It was a word a thousand years ago."

I continue to look at him sceptically. "I don't believe you."

"True, it never existed."

I look away, uncomfortable with his gaze resting on me.

"You have to tell me the rest of the story of how someone embarrassed you. I find it difficult to believe that such a thing can be done. "

"The truth is that that story isn't the true one. I sometimes make things up to make people laugh and feel better about themselves." He smiles shyly and shrugs, reminding me of how Aedan and I must have looked when we guiltily sneaked out to the forest.

I don't know how the conversation started after that, but somehow we just started to talk incessantly - incessantly being a recognised word.

We discuss topic after topic. I laugh more than I ever laughed at Faolan's jokes and clever retorts. He laughs even more than I do, a beautifuo twinkle dancing in his eyes whenever he looks at me. As our conversation flows, the distance between us and the castle grows. Feeling unfathomably safe, we continue to be charmed by the city and each other.

Soon we leave the sounds of drunk men singing and women clanging pots behind as we arrive at a clearing, near the edge of the city. The breaking dawn lights the city up in an orange halo as a convergence of clouds gather to bless us with a light drizzle.

"We should probably start getting back," I say reluctantly when I realise that we left the castle hours ago.

Lightning flashes somewhere in the distance. Somewhere in the back of my mind a thought crosses my mind: how can you see that dawn is breaking if there are clouds?

My heart flutters as he reaches toward my face, first tucking in a rebellious curl and then removing my mask.

"I didn't even realise I still had it on."

My body explodes with a warm tingle as he cups my chin. "I just want to see your face again." The whirlpool of emotions break through the surface of his darkening eyes.

I bite my lip, causing him to bring his face closer to mine. He sighs slowly, his warm breath meeting mine.

I close the distance between us by standing on my toes to meet his lips. The moment we do, something stirs inside me.

A low moan escapes his lips as his arms encircle me - and suddenly I know that this is the best moment of my life. The rain falls around us and the thunder roars. I slip my hands into his hair and pull his head towards me.

His warm mouth tastes clean, like a pure mountain stream. He smells like rain, but fresher than ArBrae's spring rains.

I drink his hungry, desperate kisses in. He breaks away and start to kiss my shoulder and neck. His kisses are lighter than dewdrops, but more electrifying than lightning. He finds my lips again. I grab fists full of his hair.

His shirt moves up, exposing the heat of his abdomen. My hand draws the small of his back closer. The sky rumbles and breaks. A flash of lightning strikes the ground a meter from us.

We stop simultaneously and stare wide-eyed at the smoke rising from the ground. He pushes me off from him and jumps away.

"I am sorry. I should not have imposed like that." His eyes are wide an unsettled, like holy Lake Alachna was that one time it froze over. "I thought I could control myself."

A hollowness settles in my heart that was fluttering a moment before. I should have been the one controlling myself, yet I did not want to.

"I apologise, princess Laelia. Please forget my lapse in judgement and please forget this happened as well." He hastily turns on his heels, leaving me forlorn in the rain, confused as a a squirrel chased by forest fire.

The dry ground turns to mud and soaks my dress as I watch him shrink away. When he disappears into the sinister city, I pick my muddy, charred mask from the ground.

For a moment another scene of a charred apple orchard flashes in front of my eyes, but it is gone before I can make any sense of it.

What on earth just happened?

This was my first kiss, and I didn't want it to stop.

He just ran away from me.

I realise the enormity of what just happened.

Crap.

I kissed the Second One - my lord. Elves aren't supposed to do that.

He said that he thought he could control himself. That means that he had the thoughts of kissing me before actually doing it. I didn't want him to have control. I mean, I had none. If the lightning hadn't struck the ground, I know exactly where this would have lead, and I wouldn't have mind.

I felt completely safe in his arms. Not safe. I search my muddy brain for the correct word - at home.

I am sure my hair is a mess.

Like that is the way things should be.

I stand up. The air is dark with clouds. The rain pours down on the city. I retrace my steps in a sprint. The city is still asleep, or just hiding from the breaking sky.

I slip into the courtyard. Remnants of the feast lie sprawled on the paving. A few men who had too much to drink are huddled under tables in the courtyard. The hall is also a mess. Pieces of food lie scattered on the floor.

One or two servants spare me a disapproving scowl, but avert their eyes. I slip into the hallways and arrive at my room. I quickly wash my face, the icy water not waking me up from this dreamy reality.