Music recommendation: "Warrior" by Aurora
Zarafea awoke in the dim light of her cave, her body still trembling from the strain of her magic. The last remnants of her corporeal form had faded, leaving her weak, dressed in the ragged clothes that had become a cruel reminder of her imprisonment. Her fingers traced the rough ground beneath her as she struggled to sit up, her thoughts swirling with the realization that her strength wasn't enough to sustain her outside the Nightmare Dimension for long.
As she caught her breath, a soft, familiar voice echoed through the cave.
"You're pushing yourself too hard, Zarafea."
Zarafea's heart skipped a beat. She looked up to see a radiant figure emerging from the shadows—Lysara.
"Lysara," Zarafea whispered, her voice hoarse. "You shouldn't be here."
"And yet, here I am," Lysara replied, her tone gentle but firm. "You're making this too dangerous for yourself. You know Helios will sense any weakness."
Zarafea lowered her head, the frustration gnawing at her insides. "I don't have a choice. I can't stay trapped here forever. I have to help them—my creations, the banished gods. If I don't break free soon..."
Lysara knelt beside her, her hand softly resting on Zarafea's arm. "You've already come so far, but your power is still tethered to this realm. If you push too hard, you'll fall apart before you can even make a difference."
Zarafea looked into Lysara's soft, worried gaze. "Then what do I do? I can't stay hidden here forever. Helios will find out I've been slipping away."
Lysara sighed softly, and then, with a flick of her hand, she conjured a small, gleaming object—a delicate necklace. The chain glimmered faintly, as if woven from strands of starlight itself, and at its center rested a luminous gemstone, pulsing with a soft, otherworldly glow.
"This," Lysara said, pressing the necklace into Zarafea's hand. "This will amplify your magic. It will give you the strength you need to sustain your corporeal form longer. But you must use it sparingly. It won't last forever, and every time you rely on it, it will drain your reserves. And if Helios senses this..."
"He won't," Zarafea replied quickly, her fingers closing around the necklace. "I'll be careful."
Lysara's expression softened, though her concern was still evident. "Zarafea, you don't have to do this alone. Let me help you."
"You are helping me," Zarafea whispered, her heart heavy with gratitude. "You've already risked enough coming here."
Lysara gave her a sad smile and stood. "Helios can never know I was here. If he does, I'll be banished too." Her eyes darkened, the weight of the risks they were taking heavy in the air. "Promise me, Zarafea. You'll be cautious."
Zarafea nodded, her fingers tightening around the necklace. "I promise."
Lysara smiled faintly, stepping back. "Then I'll create an illusion of you in the Nightmare Dimension. It'll trick Helios for now, but remember, it's only a matter of time before he grows suspicious."
Before Zarafea could say anything more, Lysara began to fade, her form becoming translucent as she disappeared from the cave. "Take care, Zarafea," her voice echoed softly. "May the stars guide you."
As the goddess of beauty vanished, leaving behind the cool stillness of the cave, Zarafea felt the weight of the necklace in her hand. It shimmered with promise, and a faint sense of hope stirred in her chest.
Carefully, she slipped the necklace around her neck. The instant the chain settled against her skin, she felt a surge of power—a warmth spreading through her body, invigorating her. It wasn't her full strength, but it was enough. Enough to keep her corporeal for longer, enough to continue her mission.
Zarafea closed her eyes, focusing on the magic pulsing through her veins. She could still feel the strain, but for the first time, it was manageable.
With renewed determination, Zarafea allowed herself to slip back into unconsciousness, knowing that when she awoke, she would be back in Asher's palace, ready to face whatever came next.
And this time, she wouldn't falter.
The faint morning light barely pierced through the heavy curtains of the room. Zarafea stirred, her body still aching from the night before. The bed beneath her felt too soft, too unfamiliar. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, and as the haze of sleep cleared, she became aware of her surroundings.
Her fingers instinctively reached for the necklace resting at her throat—a delicate chain with a powerful enchantment. It was the only thing keeping her corporeal form steady, the only thing preventing her from vanishing into the Nightmare Dimension again.
As she shifted on the bed, she noticed something—or rather, someone—in the corner of the room. A dark figure, seated in a chair, his arms crossed, his piercing gaze fixed on her. Asher.
Her breath caught for a moment, but she quickly composed herself. "You're here," she said, her voice still hoarse with exhaustion.
"I've been here for a while," Asher replied, his tone detached, though his eyes held a flicker of something unreadable. He stood, moving closer to the bed with slow, deliberate steps. "You've been unconscious for hours. I wondered if you were even capable of waking."
Zarafea sat up, feeling the weight of his words. The tension between them was palpable, and yet she kept her expression neutral. "I'm fine," she said softly, though her body betrayed her, still weak from the intense magic required to sustain her form. She straightened her back, trying to hide the exhaustion that tugged at her.
Asher, however, didn't seem convinced. He took another step forward, standing at the foot of her bed now, looking down at her. His presence was as intimidating as ever, his power radiating through the room. "You're a terrible liar, Zarafea."
She met his gaze, unflinching, despite the tremor in her limbs. "I didn't ask you to stay."
"No, you didn't," he replied coolly, "but I had to make sure you didn't disappear in the middle of the night."
Zarafea's heart pounded in her chest. He didn't trust her. Not fully. He knew what she was—who she was—but that didn't mean he wasn't suspicious of her motives. She had hoped that their agreement would give her some semblance of safety in his kingdom, but it was clear that Asher's cynicism ran deep.
"I haven't broken our agreement," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'm here, as promised."
"For now," Asher said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But you seem to be forgetting that the court is watching you, especially after last night's entrance. Every ruler in that room had their eyes on you, wondering who you really are. It won't take long for someone to piece things together."
Zarafea swallowed, feeling the weight of his words. He was right, of course. The attention she had garnered at the ball was already dangerous. She couldn't afford any mistakes.
"Why am I still here, then?" she asked, lifting her chin slightly. "If you don't trust me, why keep me in your palace?"
Asher's lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. "Because I'm not done with you yet. The game has only just begun, Zarafea, and you're going to play it."
Her heart sank as his words settled in. She had expected this to be difficult, but the layers of intrigue and danger in Asher's court were far deeper than she had anticipated. Still, she couldn't afford to show weakness.
"I didn't come here to play games," she said, her voice firm.
"No?" Asher raised an eyebrow. "Then what is it you came here to do? Because from where I stand, it looks like you're hiding something—a lot of things."
Zarafea clenched her fists beneath the sheets, the frustration bubbling up inside her. She couldn't tell him the full truth, not yet. Not when she was still so vulnerable. "I came to fulfill my promise. Nothing more."
"And yet, here you are, weak and barely able to keep yourself from fading into nothingness." Asher's tone was sharp. "How long do you think you can keep this up? Before someone notices that you're not what you appear to be?"
Her pulse quickened, but she kept her face calm. "I have enough strength to do what I need to."
Asher didn't reply immediately. He simply watched her for a long moment, his eyes cold and calculating. Then, with a small sigh, he stepped away from the bed, turning toward the door. "You'll need to stay," he said, his voice softer now, but no less firm. "The court expects it. After last night, they'll want to know more about you."
"Stay?" Zarafea repeated, her brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"
"You'll be among the women who remain in the palace after the ball," Asher said without looking back at her. "Just like the others who wish to court me."
Zarafea's breath hitched. He was testing her—forcing her to play the role of a suitor among the nobles, to see if she could survive the scrutiny of his court. "You can't be serious."
Asher turned to face her again, his expression unreadable. "This is the game we play, Zarafea. If you want to survive, you'll need to learn the rules."
Her jaw tightened, the frustration and tension between them almost unbearable. "And if I refuse?"
"Then you won't last long here," he replied, his tone dark and final. "But we both know you can't afford that."
Zarafea said nothing, the weight of his words sinking in. She couldn't refuse. Not if she wanted to save the banished gods, to rescue her creations from Helios's clutches. She would have to endure the court's schemes, the veiled insults, and the dangerous attention.
Asher watched her for a moment longer, then, as if satisfied with her silence, he turned and walked toward the door. Before leaving, he glanced back over his shoulder. "I've assigned a maid to ensure your... presence here remains discreet. She'll make sure no one asks questions. But remember—if anyone finds out who you really are, it won't just be you who suffers."
With that final warning, Asher stepped out, leaving Zarafea alone in the room.
As soon as the door shut behind him, Zarafea released a shaky breath, her fingers brushing against the enchanted necklace again. She had little time to waste. She needed to recover, regain her strength, and prepare for whatever lay ahead.
The court was watching. The game had begun.
She climbed out of bed, feeling the exhaustion creeping back in. Without a second thought, she locked the door behind her, her legs wobbling as she made her way toward the bed once more. The moment she collapsed onto the soft mattress, her body gave way, and she felt her soul slipping free from her corporeal form, drawn back to the Nightmare Dimension.