Morning filtered into the cavern slowly, a soft shimmer through the crystal-veined walls. The air was still cool, still humming faintly with magic, but for the first time since she arrived, Astrid felt almost rested.

  Almost.

  Kurai hadn’t moved from the doorway. He was still perched there, though slumped down, from the movement of his shoulders he was asleep.

  He doesn’t look very comfortable. But at least he’s sleeping soundly.

  She stretched, groaned, then sat up. Her muscles ached in a way she wasn’t used to—from walking, from running, from fear. But today felt slower. Softer. And she needed that.

  Then she just stared at him. Slow rhythmic breaths.

  I don’t know what’s harder to understand—the situation I’m in, or this guy.

  Why did he help me? Then treat me like a burden?

  He has a soft side, but there’s a rage buried inside him. That power. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t scary.

  The elves here seem to know it too. They were hesitant to let us in—and I don’t think it was because of me.

  She tilted her head. Did he always sleep like that? Half-sitting, half-guarding? Like he expected danger to come knocking the second he blinked?

  She groaned. “All of this hurts my brain,” she whispered.

  She crept past Kurai and wandered out into the dim corridors of the undercity. Elves moved like whispers, going about, starting their day. The air carried the scent of moss and sweet herbs. Vines glowed faintly on the walls, casting a strange, dreamlike hue.

  It was all still so bizarre. And beautiful. And wrong.

  Back home, there were cars, trains, people glued to their phones, music in their ears, videos playing in pockets. There were deadlines and laundry and Charlie getting ready for school, groaning about her speech.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Now? Magic. Prophecies. A guy who could ignite the air around him and disappear into shadows.

  And no clear way back.

  She found herself tracing a narrow path that wound above the lake. Lanterns floated over the water like tiny stars. The stillness was calming.

  Blending in was easier now. The robes helped. So did the fact that she wasn’t walking beside someone who made shadows nervous.

  For the first time since falling through that puddle, she wasn’t terrified. Just… displaced.

  Until a familiar voice called to her.

  “Astrid.”

  She turned.

  The Myrren stood near the edge of a stone archway, cane in hand, his expression unreadable.

  “Would you walk with me?”

  She nodded.

  He led her slowly, his steps small but deliberate. They didn’t speak at first.

  “You’ve seen much,” he said eventually. “For one so new to our world. What do you think of it?”

  Astrid hesitated. “It’s… incredible. I’ve never seen anything like this—only in movies and games. It doesn’t feel real. It’s like I’m in a fairy tale… but.”

  He nodded. “You miss home.”

  She stopped walking.

  “Back in your chamber… you said my sister would be okay. How did you know about her?”

  “I see pieces,” he replied. “Fragments, like reflections in broken glass. Sometimes, those closest to you leave the strongest echoes.”

  “Can you see a way back for me?”

  He was quiet for a moment. Then: “Perhaps. But not alone.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  He turned to face her fully now, expression more serious.

  “Your arrival has stirred something. The old ways shift. The seal that divides our worlds grows thin. If you truly wish to return, there may be a way—but it would require help. I believe the dragons could help you.”

  Astrid blinked. “A… dragon?”

  “One who remembers the time before. They were the keepers of ancient magic, the architects of the Veil. Their bloodlines hold power still. Being the ones who created the Veil, surely they can help you return.”

  A dragon. That was… not what she expected. Dragons didn’t fix things. They burned them.

  She muttered under her breath, “Sure. Next we’ll ride unicorns into battle.”

  A voice cut in from the shadows.

  “That’s impossible.

  Kurai stepped into view, arms crossed, expression hard.

  “They’re extinct.”

  Myrren raised an eyebrow. “Oh, are they now?”

  He scoffed. “Okay, great. So, she goes home and what? I’m still screwed.”

  He’d been kind, even soft, just hours ago. Now he sounded like she was baggage again. Disposable.

  She turned on him. “Do you seriously only think of yourself?”

  He didn’t answer. He knew she was pissed.

  Myrren stepped between them, calm but firm. “You could always go with her, Kurai. That world might be safer for you.”

  Kurai looked away, visibly annoyed at the idea.

  Astrid watched him, frowning. “God, nothing is good enough for you. Do what you like—but I’m going home.”

  Frustrated, she began to walk away.

  She wanted to keep walking. She would find her own way, screw him. But that voice—the quiet, reluctant one—hooked her like a thread around her ankle.

  “Wait,” he called out. Then, turned to Myrren: “Where would we even find a dragon?” he muttered, voice low, almost defeated.

  Myrren smiled, as if the question had been expected. “Where else would dragons be, my boy? Volcanoes.”

  Kurai exhaled slowly, shaking his head. Then looking up at Astrid “Hope you don’t mind fire and brimstone.”

  Astrid didn’t know anything about this land, but she did know the look of someone backed into a corner. She didn’t know what scared her more though, the volcanos, those enforcers, dragons or the way he suddenly sounded like he was coming with her.

  It didn’t matter.

  The thread had already been pulled.

  And somewhere far beyond the Veil, something ancient was beginning to stir.