The air in Lumindellar feels heavier this morning, charged with an undercurrent of something I can't quite name. Even as the golden light filters through the palace's intricate windows, it does little to warm the chill that's settled in my chest.
I stand in the room they've given me—a space both grand and unnervingly unfamiliar. The walls shimmer faintly, as though the stone itself is alive, pulsing with a soft, rhythmic light that matches the hum of magic in the air. Delicate, flowing curtains frame tall windows that overlook the vibrant city, the buildings glowing in the early morning light. Everything about this room feels enchanted, like it belongs to someone far more important, someone who understands this world. Not me.
The bed behind me is impossibly soft, draped in fabrics so fine they feel like whispers against my skin. A small table near the window holds an ornate vase filled with flowers that seem to glow faintly, their petals shifting colors as if they can't decide which hue to settle on. But even surrounded by this beauty, I feel out of place, like an intruder in a story that isn't mine.
On the table beside me lie the items Lilly brought: a cloak folded neatly, the stone charm resting atop it, and a satchel filled with supplies for the journey. The cloak catches my eye first. Its fabric is deep green with black accents, embroidered with silver threads that shimmer like captured moonlight. When I run my fingers over it, the material feels both soft and impossibly strong, as if it's woven from magic itself.
The charm is a small, smooth piece of stone, no larger than a coin, etched with swirling runes that glow faintly. It hums softly in my palm when I pick it up, a reminder of the power that saturates this realm. A leather cord is attached to it, simple yet sturdy, meant to tie around my wrist.
I trace the runes absentmindedly, the weight of everything pressing down on me. The pendant at my neck hums faintly, a low vibration that never truly leaves me now. It feels like a part of me, though I'm not sure if that thought comforts or terrifies me.
I drop the stone back onto the cloak and turn toward the window, hoping the sight of Lumindellar will calm the storm inside me. The city is as beautiful as ever, its slender spires reaching toward the golden sky, the forest surrounding it alive with soft, feathery trees that shimmer in the light. But even the beauty feels distant, like it belongs to another world entirely—a world I've been thrust into without warning.
My fingers brush the pendant, and a memory flickers at the edge of my mind, unbidden and sharp.
My mother's voice, raised and trembling with frustration. "You have no right to involve her in this. She's just a child!"
And then, his voice. Ryan's voice. Calm, measured, but dripping with something I can't quite name. "She's more than that, and you know it. You've seen it."
I blink, the memory slipping away like smoke through my fingers. My chest tightens, and I clutch the pendant harder, willing the memory to come back, to give me more. But all I'm left with is the echo of their words and the sense that my mother has been keeping secrets from me for far longer than I ever realized.
Why didn't she tell me? Why did she hide so much?
A soft knock at the door pulls me back to the present. Before I can answer, Lilly steps inside, her expression calm but guarded. She's always like this—controlled, as if every movement and word is calculated.
She glances at the cloak, the charm, and the satchel before her eyes meet mine. "It's time to get ready," she says, her tone even, almost clinical.
I nod but don't move. The weight of everything—my mother's disappearance, the trial ahead, the secrets that seem to grow with every step I take—keeps me rooted to the spot.
Lilly steps closer, her gaze softening just enough to feel like a reprimand. "You're scared," she says simply.
"Of course I'm scared," I snap, my voice sharper than I intended. "I've been thrown into a world I don't understand, given a task I'm not ready for, and now I'm supposed to just… trust you? Trust any of this?"
Lilly doesn't flinch, but there's a flicker of something in her expression—hurt, maybe, or guilt. "I understand how overwhelming this must be—"
"Do you?" I cut her off, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. "Do you really? You keep saying you're here to help me, but you're just as cryptic as everyone else. You're holding things back, Lilly. I can feel it."
She sighs, glancing toward the window. For a moment, she looks almost vulnerable, like the weight of her own secrets is pressing down on her. "There are things I can't tell you, Sarah. Not yet. Not because I don't want to, but because you're not ready to hear them."
I laugh bitterly, the sound hollow. "Everyone keeps saying that. 'You're not ready.' When will I be ready, Lilly? When it's too late?"
Her gaze snaps back to mine, sharp and unyielding. "No. When you've proven to yourself that you can handle it. When you stop doubting the power inside you and start embracing it."
Her words hit me harder than I expect, and I hate how much truth there is in them. I am doubting myself. Every step of the way, I've questioned whether I belong here, whether I can do this.
Lilly steps closer, her voice softer now. "I know you're angry. I know you feel like I'm keeping you in the dark. But Sarah, everything I've done—everything your mother has done—has been to protect you. You might not believe that now, but one day, you will."
I look away, swallowing the lump in my throat. I want to believe her, but the memory of her arguing with Ryan lingers, a ghost I can't shake. What was she protecting me from?
Lilly places a hand on my arm, grounding me. "Get ready. I'll meet you in the courtyard when you're done."
As the door clicks shut behind her, the silence of the room feels suffocating. I glance at the cloak and the charm again, the shimmer of the fabric catching the light. These items are meant to protect me, to prepare me for the dangers ahead. But no enchanted fabric or carved stone can shield me from the doubts clawing at my mind.
I pick up the cloak, running my fingers over its intricate embroidery. It feels like a symbol of something I'm not sure I'm ready to accept—a commitment to this world, to the power inside me.
With trembling hands, I put it on, the fabric settling over my shoulders like a second skin. The charm's leather cord is rough against my wrist as I tie it in place, the stone warm to the touch.
I catch my reflection in the window, the light casting strange shadows across my face. I look the part of someone who belongs in this world, but inside, I still feel like an imposter.
Taking a deep breath, I clutch the pendant one last time, feeling its hum steady me. This is my choice now, my path. And whether I'm ready or not, it's time to take the next step.
*********
The air in Lumindellar feels heavier as I enter the courtyard, and I can't shake the feeling that the city itself knows this is a turning point. The council members remain seated, their gazes piercing as they watch me. I don't know if they're judging or hoping, but their silence weighs on me.
Nova stands first, her voice soft yet firm. "Remember, Sarah, the answers you seek lie in your heart. Keep it open, even when it's hard."
Alette nods in agreement, her emerald-green eyes steady on me. "Your strength will come from within. Trust yourself, even when the path ahead seems impossible."
But the Unseelie members aren't as kind.
Cass leans back in his chair, his dark eyes gleaming with disdain. "This isn't a fairy tale. The truth will be harder than you think. If you survive, it'll be because you've learned to embrace the darkness, not fight it."
Glendera sneers, her twisted vines shifting like serpents. "You'll reach Nox, child, but it won't be salvation waiting for you. It'll be ruin."
Their words send a chill down my spine, but I refuse to show it. I've already come this far. Turning back now isn't an option.
As I step away from the council chambers, Lilly is waiting for me near the grand doors. She doesn't speak at first, just watches me with an intensity that makes my chest tighten.
"I'm not going with you," she says finally, her voice quiet but firm.
I blink, caught off guard. "What?"
"This is something you have to do alone," she continues, her expression unreadable. "The journey to Nox… it's not just about reaching the city. It's about proving to yourself that you're ready for the answers waiting there."
Her words sting, though I don't know why. Part of me wants to argue, to demand why she's leaving me now, but another part—the part that's been growing stronger since I came here—understands.
"Lilly," I say, hesitating, "why do I feel like you've been keeping things from me? About my parents, about the pendant, about… everything."
Lilly exhales slowly, her eyes softening. "Because not everything is as simple as it seems, Sarah. Sometimes, the truth has to come in pieces, or it'll break you."
Her answer doesn't satisfy me. Not completely. But I can't deny the weight of her words. Pieces. That's what I feel like—one small fragment of a story that everyone else seems to know, but I can't see.
"Just remember," she says, stepping closer, "to hold on to your memories. They'll guide you when nothing else can. Not everything is black and white, Sarah. Not everyone is, either."
I nod, though her words only deepen the conflict swirling inside me. Can I trust her? Can I trust anyone here?
Lilly stands near the grand doors as I prepare to leave, her expression a blend of resolve and something softer—regret, maybe, or worry.
She doesn't say much at first, only watching me with that piercing gaze of hers. I glance down at the black cloak already draped over my shoulders, its silky fabric light but reassuring, and the stone tucked securely in the pocket of my satchel. Gifts she gave me earlier—practical, yes, but also charged with meaning I don't fully understand yet.
Now, as I adjust the clasp of the cloak, she steps closer. "You've got everything you need," she says, her voice low, almost hesitant.
The weight of her words doesn't escape me. Everything I need? The pendant? The cloak? The stone? They feel like lifelines in a world I barely understand. But are they enough?
"Lilly," I start, unsure how to phrase what's been twisting in my gut since the council. "Why won't you come with me? You've been guiding me this whole time, and now—"
She cuts me off gently, her voice steady. "Because this part isn't about me, Sarah. It's about you. Nox isn't just a destination—it's a test. One you have to face alone."
Her words sting, and the tension between us feels sharper than ever. "It doesn't feel like guidance when I still don't have all the answers," I say, my voice trembling with frustration. "You've been keeping things from me, haven't you? About my mom. About Ryan. About me."
Lilly's face tightens, the mask she always wears slipping just slightly. "Not everything can be told," she says, almost too softly. "Some truths… you have to discover on your own."
"That's not fair," I snap, the knot in my chest unraveling into anger. "You've been acting like you're on my side, but how can I trust you when you won't give me the full story?"
Her gaze flickers, a shadow of something like pain crossing her face. "Sarah, I—" She stops herself, taking a steadying breath. "I get it. I do. But you have to trust me when I say that remembering on your own—putting the pieces together—will make you stronger. It's the only way you'll be ready for what's waiting for you in Nox."
I don't respond, the weight of her words settling over me. Part of me wants to argue, to demand answers, but another part knows she's right. This is my journey now.
She steps back, giving me space, but her eyes remain on mine. "Just… hold on to your memories. Even the ones that feel broken or incomplete. They'll guide you when nothing else can."
I think of my mom then, of the fleeting glimpses of her sorrowful eyes, her whispered reassurances when I was scared as a child. You're strong, Sarah, she'd say, her voice firm but gentle. Stronger than you know. Just like her.
Her. My birth mother. A woman I've never truly known but who lingers in my thoughts like a phantom.
The hum of the pendant grows louder against my chest, jolting me back to the present. I also think of Justin, of the way his words and steady presence had given me a glimmer of confidence I hadn't realized I needed. As his face flashes in my mind, the pendant's hum intensifies for just a moment, sending a warmth through me.
"Sarah," Lilly says, pulling me back to the moment. "Remember, not everything is black and white. And not everyone is, either."
Her words feel like a warning, but I can't tell who they're meant to be about. Justin? Ryan? Her?
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I'll figure it out," I say, my voice quieter now.
"I know you will," she replies, a faint smile ghosting across her lips. "You're stronger than you think."
Without another word, I turn and walk away, the weight of the pendant and the stone feeling heavier with each step.
*******
The moment I leave Lumindellar, the world seems to change. The air grows thicker, warmer, and the vibrant hues of the city fade into muted tones of gray and green. The trees loom taller here, their branches gnarled and claw-like, casting long, jagged shadows across the path. Even the sunlight feels different, filtered through the canopy above in thin, pale beams.
I pull the cloak around me, its magic shielding me from the strange, biting winds that sweep through the forest. The pendant hums steadily against my chest, its rhythm like a heartbeat, guiding me forward—but the hum feels more insistent now, as if it's tethering me to this world, or perhaps pushing me deeper into it.
But the farther I go, the more the unease builds. I can feel the magic in the air—alive, restless, watching. It's like I'm being pulled in several directions at once, and every step I take brings me closer to something I'm not ready to face.
I think of my mom, of the argument I'd overheard between her and Ryan all those years ago. The memory creeps back unbidden, sharp as ever, and I replay it like a broken record.
"It's not safe," my mother had said, her voice trembling with fear.
"It's not about safety," Ryan had replied, his tone calm but edged with something I couldn't place. "It's about what she's capable of."
"She's just a child!"
"Exactly," Ryan had said, his voice softening, almost regretful. "That's why she has to be protected. Because when the time comes…"
The memory cuts off, leaving me with more questions than answers. What had he meant? Why had he been so concerned with protecting me? What was I capable of?
The pendant pulses again, drawing me back to the present. I tighten my grip on the stone Lilly gave me, its warmth grounding me. But it feels strangely insufficient. It doesn't dull the anxiety gnawing at me—the cold knot in my chest that won't go away.
As I walk deeper into the forest, the trees seem to shift, their branches forming strange, almost human shapes. Eyes, glowing faintly in the shadows, seem to follow me. Creatures, watching from a distance, their intent unreadable. It's as if the forest itself is waiting for me to make a move.
"Just keep going," I mutter to myself, though my voice sounds shaky even to my ears. The path ahead is winding and unclear. My every step feels like a decision to keep moving into something that might break me.
The pendant hums louder, its vibration stronger now, as though responding to something nearby. My fingers brush it, and the hum intensifies with each step. It's almost as though the pendant is alive, aware, reacting to what's ahead. It's guiding me—or is it warning me?
The wind shifts, carrying with it a faint, unfamiliar scent. It's sweet but sharp, like flowers blooming in decay. The trees close in tighter around the path, their twisted branches knitting together above me, blocking out the faint light that had guided me this far. Shadows pool deeper now, and the air crackles faintly, like static before a storm. The unease in my chest grows heavier, as though something or someone is pulling me in, unwilling to let me escape.
The hum grows erratic, its once-steady rhythm now breaking into uneven pulses. I feel the vibrations in my bones. The pendant feels warm against my chest, but the warmth doesn't bring comfort—it's like it's testing me, urging me forward even though I don't know where I'm going.
"What is it?" I whisper, as if the pendant might answer me.
A rustle stirs in the trees—too deliberate to be the wind. The air feels thick with presence, like the forest is alive, aware of me, and waiting. The creatures are still there, just out of sight.
"Who's there?" I call out, my voice trembling despite my attempt to sound firm. I've been through too much to let fear control me now.
The pendant's hum spikes suddenly, a sharp pulse that sends a jolt through me. My hand flies to it instinctively. It feels almost painful now, as though the pendant itself is straining, warning me. Or maybe trying to prepare me.
The rustling grows louder, moving closer, circling. The glowing eyes in the shadows grow brighter, more numerous, and I can make out faint shapes now—slender, elongated figures that don't quite move like humans. It feels like they're waiting for me to do something—anything.
"Stay calm," I mutter to myself, gripping the stone tightly. Its warmth contrasts sharply with the wild energy from the pendant. "Stay calm." But my breath quickens, heart hammering in my chest.
The pendant pulses again, its heat spreading through my chest. I swear I hear something—words, faint and indistinct, carried on the wind. A whisper, not from the forest, but from the pendant itself.
"Protect."
My breath catches. Did I imagine that? The word echoes in my mind, faint but insistent, as though the pendant is trying to tell me something—warn me.
Another rustle—closer now. One of the figures steps into the faint light breaking through the branches. It's tall, its limbs impossibly long, its eyes glowing a piercing silver. The air around it ripples, charged with magic that makes my skin crawl. It stops in front of me, its eyes locking onto mine with an eerie intensity.
The pendant pulses violently, its light flickering faintly through my cloak. The creature hesitates, its glowing eyes narrowing as if it can see the energy radiating from me.
The realization hits me like a thunderclap: the pendant is not just reacting to the creature—it's warding it off. It's trying to protect me. But from what?
I take a shaky step back, clutching the stone in one hand and the pendant in the other. The creature doesn't advance, but it doesn't retreat either. Instead, it tilts its head, its movements unnervingly smooth, like it's trying to understand me—or the power I'm carrying.
The whispers grow louder, no longer just a single word but a stream of indistinct murmurs, rising and falling with the pendant's pulse. It's as if the pendant is alive, communicating with something—or someone—I can't see.
"Leave me alone," I say, my voice firmer now, though my heart pounds in my chest.
The creature blinks slowly, its silver eyes dimming slightly, and then, without a sound, it melts back into the shadows. The others follow, their glowing eyes disappearing one by one until the forest is still again.
The pendant's hum softens, returning to its steady rhythm. I let out a shaky breath, my knees threatening to give out under the weight of what just happened.
I don't know what just happened, but one thing is clear: the pendant isn't just a key to my power—it's a shield, a beacon, and something far more mysterious than I ever realized. It's protecting me. But from what? And why does it feel like this is only the beginning?
*******
That night, after setting up camp in a small clearing, I fall into a restless sleep.
The dream comes suddenly, pulling me into a world that feels both familiar and alien.
The air is thick with magic, and the ground beneath my feet seems to shift with every step.
And then I see him.
Ryan.
He stands in the distance, his figure hazy but unmistakable. His dark hair falls over his face, his expression unreadable.
"Ryan," I call, my voice echoing in the dream.
He turns, his gaze piercing. "You're walking into something you don't understand," he says, his voice cold. "Do you even know what you're looking for?"
"I'm looking for my mom," I say, my voice firm. "What do you know about her? What do you know about me?"
Ryan steps closer, the air around him shimmering. "More than you're ready to hear," he says cryptically. "But you'll find out soon enough. When you reach Nox, you'll see the truth for yourself."
His words strike something deep inside me—fear, anger, confusion. "What truth?" I demand.
Ryan's expression twists, his voice lowering to a near-whisper. "The truth about your parents."
The dream shatters like glass.
*******
I wake with a start, my heart pounding in my chest as Ryan's voice echoes in my mind.
"The truth about your parents."
His words hang in the air, heavy and cryptic. I gasp, the remnants of the dream fading too quickly, but the impact of his statement lingers. What did he mean by that? What truth?
I sit up abruptly, my breath shallow and frantic. The pendant hums louder now, vibrating against my skin, as though urging me to listen—to follow the pull. It thrums with energy, the rhythm like a heartbeat that isn't my own. My fingers instinctively clutch the stone Lilly gave me, its warmth grounding me, but it's not enough to stop the sharp jolt of panic coursing through me.
The dream felt so real. Ryan's expression twisted, the sorrow in his eyes now a shadow that lingers in my mind. "The truth about your parents…"
My chest tightens at the thought. What truth? Why did he say that?
I look around the small room, the shadows in the corners seeming deeper now. The air is colder, heavier. Everything feels… wrong. I should be focused, prepared to face whatever lies ahead. But the questions in my mind won't let me move forward until I have some answers.
The pendant hums again, more insistent this time, almost like it's calling to me. I clench my fists around the stone and the pendant, trying to focus, trying to block out the fear clawing at my chest. What did Ryan mean?
"Ryan," I whisper, almost pleading with the empty air around me. "What did you mean?"
The pendant thrums beneath my fingers, its vibration growing stronger, like it's pushing me to do something. It feels almost as though it's alive, responding to my desperation. I can sense its power coursing through me, urging me to trust it, to connect with it, to dig deeper.
I close my eyes and try to quiet my thoughts, trying to listen, to follow the pull of the pendant. I breathe deeply, centering myself, and then I focus on the pendant—the one connection I've felt so strongly since I stepped into the Fae realm. The warmth spreads from my chest, filling my veins with energy that's both comforting and unsettling. It's as though the pendant is alive, and somehow, I am too.
In my mind, I speak to it as I've done before. Show me, I whisper. Show me what Ryan meant. Show me the truth.
The pendant pulses in response, and this time, the magic shifts—warms, then cools, like the feeling of the air right before a storm breaks. The ground beneath me hums with the resonance of the magic, and I feel my chest tighten as if the world itself is holding its breath.
A presence stirs in the distance, but it's not an ordinary feeling—there's something else, something more ancient. The shadows in the room seem to stretch and sway, as if alive. Then, a figure appears. It's Ryan, but different. More shadow than flesh, his face hard to focus on.
"The truth about your parents… it's not what you think," Ryan's voice floats toward me, his words low and cryptic. The connection feels like it's slipping in and out of focus, like the world is pushing me away, but I cling to it. "You must learn the truth. Not all is as it seems. The answers you seek are entwined in darkness, Sarah."
I gasp as the words hit me. What does he mean by "entwined in darkness"? Is this about my mom? About my father? The magic swirls around me, pulsing with an intensity that leaves my skin tingling.
"What does that mean?" I ask desperately, but before I can ask again, the image of Ryan flickers, growing fainter as though fading into the ether. The dream shatters again, breaking apart like shards of glass.
My breath comes in ragged gasps as I jolt awake, my heart thudding in my chest. I sit up, looking around the room, but the figure of Ryan is gone. The world around me feels suffocatingly real, and yet it feels like I've just woken from another layer of the dream.
I clutch the pendant in my hands, its warmth still radiating through my skin, grounding me. My pulse is erratic, and the air around me feels charged, still vibrating with the magic Ryan left behind. What did he mean? I have more questions now than ever, and it seems like the answers are just beyond my reach.
The pendant hums, as if responding to my frustration, and I feel a slight pull, almost urging me to keep going.
I look down at the charm Lilly gave me, its warmth offering some comfort. The connection to the pendant has grown stronger—it's almost as though they are tied together. There's no turning back now. My mom, my parents, this realm… everything is intertwined, and I can't keep running from it.
I stand, wiping my palms against my pants, trying to shake off the lingering tension in my chest. The journey is far from over.
I take a deep breath, feeling the energy settle slightly, and I clutch the pendant tightly. This is the path I've chosen—whether I understand it or not, I have to move forward. Nox is still ahead, the warlock still out there, and the answers I seek lie in wait.
"I will find out the truth," I whisper to myself, the words both a promise and a vow. The pendant pulses again, as if in agreement, and I know that no matter what happens next, I'm not alone in this.
I look out at the darkening forest. The path is unclear, shrouded in shadows, but I won't stop. The truth is waiting, and I'll find it, no matter what price I have to pay.
With that, I continue on, the hum of the pendant steady against my chest, my steps growing more confident, ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead.
*******
The air around me feels cooler now, the immediate danger passed. Still, I can't shake the unease creeping up my spine. The whisper of Protect lingers in my mind, like the faintest trace of a memory just out of reach.
I exhale deeply, looking around the now-empty space of the forest. The trees loom overhead, their branches bending and swaying unnaturally, as if reacting to my presence. The creatures—whatever they were—are gone, but the eerie energy of the forest remains.
I swallow the lump in my throat and take a step forward. The journey isn't over yet. In fact, it's only just beginning. I need to keep moving, to face whatever lies ahead.
The cloak still wraps around me like a shield, the pendant pressing steadily against my chest. My fingers brush the stone in my satchel again, its warmth a small comfort.
Learn the truth.
That's what Ryan said in my dream. But what truth? And why does it feel like every step I take pulls me closer to something I'm not ready to face?
I push the thought away. I'll deal with it later. For now, I need to focus. Nox is still ahead. The warlock. The answers.
With one last glance over my shoulder—just to make sure the creatures have truly gone—I continue along the path, every step more determined than the last.
The forest grows quieter, the air feeling lighter, though the tension in my chest doesn't fully leave me. It's as if something still waits, hidden in the shadows. But I don't stop. I won't stop.
I tighten my grip on the pendant and move forward, the hum steady in my chest. One step at a time. And no matter what happens, I will find the answers. I will learn the truth about my parents—and about me.
With that, I push ahead into the unknown, ready for whatever this world has in store for me.