Ready for a tale soaked in moonlight, laced with longing, and wrapped in the velvet threads of twisted destiny. Pull up your coziest enchanted cushion and pour yourself some tea because Alice is about to spill a legend where fate tangled love into knots so tight, not even time could undo them.
☕️ Alice’s Mad Tea Party Presents: Storytime
Alice Spills the Tea on: The Thorns of Valyssia
Long before the moon learned to weep, in the veiled realm of Elarindor, there lived a girl born under an eclipse. Her name was Valyssia, daughter of mortal flame and Elven frost. A rare creature of both dusk and dawn, laughter and lament. It was whispered that she was touched by the Fates themselves - eyes like twilight, and hair that shimmered with the colors of shifting leaves.
But hers was not a tale of simple beauty or bliss. Oh no, darling—this was a story carved in thorns.
At twenty seven, Valyssia crossed paths with Auren, a mysterious warrior cloaked in raven feathers and riddles. He saved her from a banshee beast near the Whispering Vale, and when their hands met—stars held their breath.
They were opposites.
She, radiant with hope.
He, steeped in shadows and secrets.
Yet love blossomed, wild and furious, like roses in a battlefield.
But nothing in Elarindor bloomed without a price.
You see, Valyssia carried a curse—woven into her bloodline generations ago. A cruel enchantment cast by a jealous forest witch, one who vowed no child of flame and frost would ever love without ruin. And Auren? He wasn’t just a man.
He was the Heir of the Hollow Crown - a fallen prince of the Veyrathi, a cursed lineage sworn never to love, lest the world burn beneath their feet.
But love they did. Gods help them—they defied fate.
They tried to break the curse. Scoured the ruins of the Inkbound Archives. Sought the Oracle of Hollow Bone. Even traded truths with the Mirror-Tongued Serpent.
And just when they thought they had found the answer—
The final thorn pricked.
Auren, in a desperate bid to save Valyssia, bound his soul to hers using forbidden celestial runes. For one heartbeat, they were one. Eternal. Unbreakable.
But oh, darling, fate hates being outwitted.
The runes worked… too well.
One could not live without the other.
Not in life. Not in death.
If Valyssia fell, so would Auren. If Auren bled, so did she.
And when war came, as it always does in these stories, Auren took the fatal blow meant for her. She lived. But only in body.
Her soul fractured.
And somewhere, beneath the ruins of their once-shared garden, her heart still beats in time with a man who no longer walks this world.
Or so they say…
But legends linger, don’t they?
In old songs, in dream-swept forests, in flickers of candlelight when no wind is near.
Some say Valyssia now haunts the Moonfen River, searching for a way to reach Auren beyond the Veil.
Others whisper he never truly died—only slipped into shadow, waiting for the stars to align again.
And me? Well…
Let’s just say I’ve seen roses growing from stone, and heard heartbeats echo where none should be.
So if you ever find a raven feather soaked in starlight at your doorstep…
Don't touch it.
Or do.
But know this:
Some loves aren't meant to last.
Others?
They're meant to curse the gods themselves. It is what it is.
Eternally enchanted,
– Alice, Queen of Ink & Lore
