☕️ Alice’s Mad Tea Party Presents: Storytime
Alice Spills the Tea on: The Starbound Vow
Long ago, before Elven cities had marble spires and long before mortals dared to dream of reaching the skies, two realms spun side by side, never touching, never mixing.
Elarien - the Kingdom of Nightglass and Moonpetals. A realm where time drifted like poetry and the Elven Lords danced with fire pulled from constellations. Their halls shimmered with starlight and silence. Magic there wasn’t just cast - it sang.
And then there was Vaelon - realm of breath, iron, and wildfire hearts. Mortals burned fast and loved harder. They built their stories in ash and sweat, knowing time was never on their side.
Between them stood the Veil of Stars - a shimmering border so sharp it cut even the gods when they wandered too close.
Now hold on to your teacups, because here comes the heartache.
Aralithe, Princess of Elarien, wasn’t your dainty, storybook royal. Her hair streamed like starlight tumbling through a waterfall, and her temper? Forged in the molten core of fallen moons. She was a Moonbinder, one of the sacred guardians sworn to keep the Veil intact - untouched by time, unmoved by love, bound to silence and duty.
Until he appeared.
One night, under a prophecy-thickened sky, she stepped through the Gates of the Inkbound Library chasing a rogue page - one that had slipped between timelines like it had teeth. And there, in the dusky hush between worlds, she found Kaelen.
A mortal.
Or so she thought.
He sat at a writing desk in the heart of a forgotten archive, fingers smudged with ink, head tilted in thought, eyes filled with starlight he had no business remembering. His voice? Velvet thunder. His presence? Like deja vu wrapped in parchment and prophecy.
He wasn’t supposed to see her.
He definitely wasn’t supposed to touch her.
And falling in love? Darling, that was forbidden seventeen ways and spelled in three ancient tongues just to be sure.
But fall they did - like stars caught in a black hole, pulling each other in no matter how far they ran. Whispers in dusty alcoves. Glances like gravity. Hands brushing across scrolls, sparking like eclipses.
They thought love would protect them.
They thought their secret was safe.
They thought wrong.
Because Kaelen? He wasn’t just a dreamy scribe with too many thoughts and not enough time.
He was Moonblooded - a mortal-born descendant of a long-buried bloodline born from ancient unions between Elves and humans. The kind of heritage that makes or breaks worlds. Most Moonblooded never awakened, living their lives quietly, unaware of the cosmos in their veins.
But Kaelen’s blood remembered.
He was born under a Blood Moon Eclipse - a celestial omen so rare it hadn’t appeared in a thousand years. His dreams? Echoes of prophecies long erased. His fate? To either tear the Veil wide open or burn with it in the ruins.
He was prophecy wrapped in mortal skin. And the moment he met Aralithe, destiny rewrote its script.
The Elven Lords didn’t just raise an eyebrow - they lost their collective minds.
They branded him a cosmic threat and demanded his removal from the fabric of fate.
The mortals, not to be outdone, crowned Aralithe in their fantasies - their would-be goddess queen sent from the stars to lead them.
Everyone wanted something.
And no one asked what they wanted.
So Aralithe made a choice.
Not one whispered in scrolls or sung by seers.
A choice born of fire and ink and soul.
A choice that bent the rules of magic and love and time.
In the heart of the Inkbound Library, surrounded by tomes that had outlived gods, Aralithe and Kaelen performed a forbidden rite. A binding of souls. A vow carved in ink and stardust.
Their hearts became one.
One could not die unless the other did.
One could not fall without the other shattering.
Their spirits became tangled like wild vines, growing through the seams of the realms, impossible to unweave.
The Veil cracked.
The stars trembled.
And silence fell.
When the dust cleared, they were gone.
No trace. No tomb. Just legend.
But on nights when the sky splits open just right, when fireflies swirl like reborn constellations, some say the Starbound Lovers still walk between worlds - not lost, but watching. Guarding. Maybe even rewriting the story with every step they take.
Maybe love is the ink that defies fate.
Maybe.
But now listen, darling, because this is where the tea gets scalding.
Moral of the story, mortals:
Do not go running around inkbinding your soul to just anyone because they looked ethereal by candlelight and quoted a dream journal at you. That is not fate - that is bad judgment with glitter on it.
And while we're at it?
NO FREAKING LOVE SPELLS.
I’ve seen what’s floating around TikTok and Etsy and I swear, some of y’all out here thinking “free will” is just a suggestion. Spoiler: it’s not. Love is sacred. It’s messy. It’s real. You cannot bottle it up and slap a wax seal on it hoping for happy ever after. That’s not magic - that’s manipulation.
Love like Aralithe and Kaelen’s?
It costs everything.
And sometimes... it’s still worth it.
Wistfully but warningly yours,
– Alice, Queen of Ink & Lore ✨
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