Chapter 2 #2
Elijah: Nope. Not into fantasy much. And there’s what, eight books out? That’s way too much commitment.
Me: Twelve, actually. And you’d understand my concern if you read the series.
Elijah: Then tell me, Amy the accountant—what is so special about your Anlon?
I pause, fingers hovering over the keyboard.
How do I even begin to explain Anlon?
Me: He’s not just “special.” He’s one of the best-written characters in fantasy. Period.
Elijah: That’s a big claim. Humor me.
Me: Fine. First off, he’s not your standard broody, perfect prince. He’s deeply flawed. He doesn’t even want to rule at first—he thinks he’s unworthy.
Elijah: So, reluctant hero type?
Me: Sort of, but it’s deeper than that. He’s a warrior first. He’s fought in brutal battles, lost people he loves, and carries real trauma. He doesn’t just look tortured for the aesthetic—he is tortured.
Elijah: Got it. So no long stares out of windows while brooding.
Me: Exactly! Anlon isn’t soft. He doesn’t stand around looking conflicted—he’s action-driven. Even when he’s hurting, he’s doing something.
Elijah: So no brooding, and always in motion. Noted. What else?
I smile, pleased he’s actually listening.
Me: He’s layered. He can be ruthless when needed, but he’s also deeply loyal. He doesn’t throw his emotions around, so when he does care, it matters.
Elijah: So when he loves, he loves hard.
I blink at the screen, my stomach flipping at the way he phrased it.
Me: Yeah. Exactly.
Elijah: Okay. Give me an example. What’s a scene that defines him?
I take a deep breath, my fingers flying over the keyboard.
Me: The Veil of Shadows. Book six. The enemy breaks through the walls, and Anlon is bleeding out. He’s been fighting for hours, barely standing. The city is about to fall. His generals tell him to retreat, that they can regroup.
Elijah: And he refuses.
Me: Not just refuses. He takes off his damn helmet, throws it aside, and calls his men to fight. One last stand. And they do. Because he’s not a leader by birth—he’s a leader because his people believe in him. That’s who Anlon is.
I sit back, my heart racing.
God, I love this series.
Elijah: Damn. That’s pretty badass.
Me: Right? And you want to put Jake Hollander in that role? The guy who punched a shark?
There’s a pause.
The typing dots appear… then stop… then appear again.
Elijah: You don’t think he could pull it off?
I scoff.
Me: I think Hollywood has no clue how to cast fantasy. They see a guy with abs and think he can play a tortured warrior. Anlon isn’t about looking strong. He is strong. That has to come from the inside.
Elijah: And you don’t think Jake has that?
Me: He’s never had to prove it. All he does is action flicks and dumb one-liners. I don’t know if he’s even capable of showing that level of depth.
The dots appear again.
Elijah: Interesting.
Before I can type another insult about Hollywood, another message pops up.
Elijah: What about the romance?
I pause, caught off guard.
Me: What do you mean?
Elijah: You’re talking about him like he’s all war and strategy. But if he’s that loyal, that intense… what’s he like in love?
A warm, giddy feeling spreads through me.
Someone is actually asking me about the best part of Anlon?
Me: He’s deeply romantic. But not in an over-the-top, dramatic way. He’s promised to Princess Kataryn. Political alliance, power move, the usual. But he never sees her. Not really.
Elijah: And then?
Me: Then there’s Celandine.
I take a sip of coffee, fully in my element now.
Me: She’s just a maid when they first meet. Not some warrior queen, not royalty. But she’s brave, kind, and willing to risk her life for others. Anlon doesn’t see her as a pawn in the great political game. He sees her.
Elijah: Love at first sight?
Me: Not exactly. It’s respect first. Admiration. He notices her when no one else does. And when he finds out she broke her leg as a girl and never fully healed, he doesn’t see her as a liability. He sees her as someone who’s fought her own battles.
Elijah: So he falls for her strength?
Me: For her strength. Her heart. The way she challenges him. She doesn’t worship him—she sees him. And he chooses her. Every single time.
I hesitate, then type the words I know are true.
Me: And I know without doubt that in book twelve, he’ll make her his wife.
The dots appear, disappear, then appear again.
Elijah: You sound so sure.
Me: I am. Because that’s who Anlon is. He doesn’t love lightly. When he chooses, it’s for life.
Another pause.
Elijah: You just convinced me.
I frown.
Me: Convinced you of what?
A long pause.
Elijah: That maybe this Anlon is worth it.
I smile, feeling like I just won a battle.
I glance up absentmindedly and freeze.
It’s afternoon. Afternoon!
I’ve spent hours talking to this man.
Pea glares at me from his perch, tail flicking like he’s personally offended by my neglect.
He lets out a loud, exaggerated meow.
“I know, I know,” I mutter. “My priorities are questionable.”
My bladder is bursting.
My stomach is screaming.
Priorities, Amy.
Me: Can I delete my account now?
The dots pop up immediately.
Elijah: Give me a way to contact you, Fangirl. I think we’re not done.
I blush and immediately feel stupid.
I’m almost a thirty-year-old woman.
Why is my stomach fluttering over a chat box?
I hesitate.
Handing out my actual number feels too personal. Email? Not great for casual chat.
I stare at the blinking cursor.
He could be a weirdo. A stalker. A catfish.
But loneliness makes people reckless, and somehow, today, I don’t want to feel so alone.
And… he doesn’t feel like one. If he wanted to be creepy, wouldn’t he have already pulled some mod-level power move?
Screw it.
Me: Fine. Here. But no weird DMing, okay?
Elijah: Scout’s honor.
I send him my Telegram username instead.
Elijah: Ah, you’re a Telegram girl. Fancy. Speak to you soon, Fangirl.
I smile at the screen.
Me: Bye, Eli.
And then the page glitches.
I blink, confused, as my screen suddenly turns white.
404 ERROR: PAGE NOT FOUND.
I stare.
What the hell?
I hit refresh.
Nothing.
My account? Gone.
Everything? Gone.
Like I was never even there.
I narrow my eyes at the screen, suspicion curling in my stomach.
What the hell just happened?