The morning sun cast bright streaks across the room, spilling through the tall windows and settling upon her bed.
Her amber eyes were wide open, her breath lodged tight in her throat.
And there he was – standing near her, his face inches away from hers.
The man's gaze bored into her. The hollow eye socket… wasn't hallow anymore. Flesh had mended where there had been nothing. The sight sent a shiver crawling across her spine.
She could not move. Could not even blink.
For a heartbeat, something strange rippled inside her chest. As she stared at him, into the face lined with fatigue, she thought she saw someone else. A memory.
Calen.
The memory flickered and was gone in an instant, like a candle snuffed out. The realization snapped her back into the present. Fear overrode her mind.
Her lips parted. A scream was about to escape her throat when –
His hand clamped down over her mouth.
"Don't," he rasped. His whole body was trembling as his eyes darted towards the door.
"Please – don't call them. Please. I'll be killed. I swear…"
His palm was rough, slick with half-dried blood. His arm shook. The weight of his desperation pressed harder than his hand ever could.
Solane struggled once, her nails digging into the sheets. His grip faltered. She felt his whole body twitch.
Then slowly and cautiously, he peeled his hand back. His chest heaved, the breath rattling through him as if expected her to scream the moment he let go.
Her amber eyes fixed on him.
Nothing. No scream.
The silence was unbearable.
She suddenly sucked in a sharp breath, her throat tightening again, ready to scream.
His palm pressed back over her mouth at once.
But before he could say something, a sharp knock on the door splintered the moment.
"Your Highness?" A familiar voice – Renna. "Are you awake?"
Elias flinched like an animal. His back pressed hard to the wall. His gaze flew to Solane, desperate, pleading.
Another knock followed.
"Your Highness," General Vanith rumbled. "Open the door. Now."
Solane's chest constricted.
Elias stumbled forward, dropping almost to his knees to her bedside. His voice cracked.
"Please… Don't tell them I'm here. Just – just let me hide. Please. I'll leave, I swear. I mean no harm. Just… not them. They'll… they'll kill me."
Her eyes flicked to the scars on his arms. The flesh around his eye socket that was supposed to be empty. The thought of Calen fleeted across her mind again.
Another thunderous bang rattled the door.
Elias looked ready to collapse. His hands pressed against the floor, trembling. "Please."
Solane's lips pressed into a thin line. At last, she jerked her chin towards the wardrobe.
Elias jumped towards it, barely managing to slip in before the door burst open.
Vanith stormed in. Behind him, two guards waited at attention. His eyes swept the chamber immediately, cold and precise.
"My apologies, Princess," he said flatly, "but I must search your chambers."
Solane stiffened. "Search? For what?"
Vanith's gaze flicked across the curtains, the corners, the shadows.
"There's been word of an intruder," he said. "He poses a significant threat to the kingdom and must be executed immediately."
Her jaw tightened. "You dare storm into my chambers at will?" Her voice cracked like a whip. "Have you forgotten who I am, General?"
Vanith stopped, but only for a moment. His scarred face did not shift. "Forgive me, Your Highness. But my duty outweighs etiquette. I will not gamble your life."
Her pulse thundered in her ears. She felt Elias' presence behind the wardrobe door.
And for one fragile heartbeat, she almost covered for him.
Almost.
But she remembered her people. The Council's fear. Her kingdom trembling on the edge of ruin.
If this man truly was the intruder Vanith hunted… hiding him could cost more than just her crown.
Her hand clenched behind her back.
Without wasting a second, she pointed her finger towards the wardrobe. "There. Search there."
Vanith's eyes hardened. With a single gesture, the guards search forward. The door wretched open.
Elias burst out.
Not waiting. Not thinking.
He crashed past the guard with a desperate shove, knocking him to the ground, before bolting past the door.
"Stop him!" Vanith shouted.
The corridor exploded with chaos. Elias tore through it. His every step was fuelled by raw survival. Guards scrambled, shouting. Steel rang as they pulled their swords from the scabbards.
"Catch him alive!" Vanith's voice roared through the hall.
Alive. The word sank like lead. Alive means more chains. More pliers. More eyes gouged out. It was no more than a death sentence.
His chest heaved. His eyes darted ahead, tracing the path. That's when he remembered – it wasn't just a castle, it was a maze he had already explored.
The abandoned castle.
Now – he was in that same castle. Alive. Breathing. And it wasn't ruined. It was whole, gleaming, bustling with servants and soldiers.
The same, but not the same.
Elias barrelled down the hall, skidding past startled courtiers. A servant carrying a tray of bread shrieked as he smashed through, silver plates clattering across the floor. Crumbs scattered underfoot, but Elias didn't slow down.
Every turn felt like déjà vu.
He knew this corridor.
He veered right. Boots thundered behind him, a wall of noise chasing him down. He ignored them, focused on the path ahead. The gallery stretched long and sunlit. Portraits of dead kings and queens loomed from the walls, their painted eyes following his sprint. He saw another group of guards at the far end, forming a human wall that blocked the path.
Elias' chest clenched with a cold dread. He was a rat in a trap. He had to think faster.
His gaze darted left. In the abandoned caste, this exact wall had caved inward and led to the forgotten armoury. Here, the wall was intact, covered by a massive tapestry depicting the Sovereign Tree.
He threw himself at the wall, ignoring the shouts of the guards. He grabbed a handful of fabric and tore it aside. Behind it was a narrow wooden door. Exactly where he remembered. He shoved it open, the shouts from the gallery echoing behind him. The door crashed shut.
It was dark and the air was thick with the smell of stone and dust. His legs screamed from strain, but he forced them to move. He remembered the feeling of the warm air that had washed over him as he descended down the stairs.
Protected Area…
The words flickered faintly in his skull.
[ You have entered a Protected Area. Your presence has been concealed here. ]
The boots above thundered to the door. Fists slammed. "There! He went that way!" shouted a soldier.
Elias froze. His chest heaved as he pressed against the cold wall.
The footsteps of the soldiers grew fainter in the distance.
Elias stood alone in the dark. His legs nearly gave out. His hands shook violently, still gripping the wall like it was the only thing keeping him upright.
He staggered down further. The stair spat him into a long, dustless chamber.
The armoury.
He stumbled past the spears and picked up a sword for himself. His eyes desperately scanned for an exit.
Elias pressed deeper into the armoury's shadows. The silence of the Protected Space wrapped around him like a thin, fragile shield. His eyes adjust to the gloom – racks of spears gleaming faintly.
Then he noticed it.
The same door he had seen in the ruined castle. Back then, it had been sealed shut. A thing of mystery he never managed to pry open.
Now... it was ajar.
His pulse thudded in his ears. Every instinct screamed at him to keep still, to let it be. But curiosity cut deeper than fear. He crept closer and pressed his ear against the wall.
Muffled voices bled through.
"…unstable… it won't last long…"
"…Vorzh must be informed…"
The name jolted him. Vorzh? The way they spoke it, clipped and reverent, felt wrong in his mouth.
Before he could lean closer, the hinges groaned.
The door opened.
Elias recoiled, slamming himself into the narrow space between a rack of halberds and the wall. His breath caught.
Two figures stepped out. They wore long coats threaded with silver wires, strange masks hanging at their belts, and their hands were stained with ash and ink. Scientists, or something like them.
Suddenly, they both paused.
Both heads turned slightly, their posture sharpening. The air itself seemed to grow aware.
"…an additional presence," one muttered. His voice was calm, clinical. "The barrier shouldn't read this high. But the barrier should have rejected any unfamiliar intruders…"
Before they could react further, another sound cut through the air.
The stairwell door above slammed open.
It was Vanith.
The scientists' head snapped upward as his boots pounded against the stairs. At once, their gazes flicked towards Elias' hiding place. They didn't point. They didn't need to.
Everyone in that chamber understood that there was an intruder. And Vanith understood exactly who it was.
His boots struck each step like a war drum as he descended.
Elias' chest locked. No more time. He reached blindly, fingers wrapping around the scabbard of a sword leaning against the rack. His knuckles whitened as Vanith's shadow stretched across the stairwell wall.
"Enough games, boy," Vanith's voice growled. "You're done running."
Elias hurled the scabbard.
It clattered hard against the far wall, ringing like a bell. Vanith's head jerked instinctively towards the noise. The split-second was all Elias needed.
He surged from his cover, boots hammering up the staircase in a frantic rush. The general's roar shook the walls as Vanith lunged to chase him.
Elias' mind screamed a single wish – close, close, close! – praying the Protected Space would seal behind him.
For a breathless moment, it obeyed. The barrier snapped shut, cutting Vanith off the base of the stairs. The general slammed into it, fists striking the invisible wall.
"Damn it!" he barked, rounding on the scientists. "What is this?! Open it, now!"
They scrambled, rushing to comply.
By then, Elias had already vanished up the stairwell, lungs burning and his legs pumping as fast as they could.
Servants screamed and scattered, pressing against the walls as he tore past. Behind him, Vanith's voice barked orders as armoured guards thundered in pursuit.
The hallway stretched long and straight, sunlight spilling through the tall windows. The air felt thinner with every step.
The end loomed.
A window.
Elias' body screamed at him to stop. It was too high. A fall like that would shatter him.
But behind him, Vanith had already escaped.
His jaw clenched.
There's no other way.
He sprinted harder. Vanith's voice roared after him, harsh and sharp. "Don't you dare!"
Elias' didn't hear the rest. He slammed his shoulder against the glass.
It shattered in an explosion of light and shards, which flew like daggers as the morning air rushed in.
For a moment, the world hung still. Below him, the courtyard stretched far and wide.
And then, he was falling.
The ground rushed up to meet him, like a hungry beast. The wind tore at his clothes, a deafening roar in his ears as the world spun. He fell faster and faster, and in that final, terrifying second, a single thought screamed through his mind:
This is it.