Skylar stepped through the gate, and the world shifted. A rush of air filled her lungs, different somehow, as if it carried the very essence of life within it. Her eyes fluttered open to a spectacle of green. She was standing on a path bordered by grass that swayed to an unheard melody, under a sky painted with twin moons.
The compass lay dormant in her hand, its needle still. She pocketed the now silent guide, feeling the first threads of a bond with this strange place. It was beautiful, yes, but she couldn't shake the image of her mother's face from her mind, the worry that would be setting in with the dawn. "I'll find my way back," she whispered, more a promise to herself than to the mother who couldn't hear her.
Her father's voice echoed in her memory, recounting the trials of his day with a grin that could light up the darkest room. She clung to those recollections, using them as a beacon, much like the twin moons overhead, to push back the shadows of doubt that crept along the edges of her courage.
With each step along the verdant path, Skylar felt the reality of her home slipping further away, as if each blade of grass and each rustling leaf whispered for her to forget the world she knew. But it was the thought of her parents, her anchor and her sail, that kept her grounded.
She walked for what felt like hours, her senses alert to every new sight and sound. The forest around her was alive in a way that the parks back home could never be. The trees seemed to breathe, their leaves fluttering in a non-existent breeze, and the air was thick with the perfume of flowers that glowed with their own inner light.
Just as exhaustion began to creep into her bones, the path opened into a clearing. The sight that met her eyes was one she recognized instantly, though she had never seen it before—except in her dreams.
A school stood before her, grand and ancient, its stones imbued with the weight of centuries. It was the Academy of Valor, just as the cloaked figure had described. Students milled about, some practicing with swords that shimmered with energy, others poring over books that floated unaided.
A voice broke her reverie. "You must be the new one from Earth."
Skylar turned to see a boy her age, his hair the color of the midnight sky, eyes a startling shade of green. He looked at her with a mix of curiosity and something else—a spark of recognition?
"I'm Skylar," she said, finding her voice.
"I know," he replied, a smile playing on his lips. "I'm Aidan. I've been assigned to help you get settled."
"Assigned?" Skylar echoed, her brow furrowing.
Aidan's smile widened. "Yes, and to answer the many questions I'm sure you have. Follow me, we have much to discuss."
But before Skylar could move, a loud crash echoed through the air, drawing the attention of everyone in the courtyard. A dark cloud began to form above the academy, swirling with malice and intent. Students began to scatter, shouts and cries filling the air as a figure descended from the cloud—someone or something Skylar could only describe as a knight, clad in armor darker than the deepest shadows of night.
Aidan stepped forward, his posture suddenly defensive. "That's no ordinary knight. That's a Shadowguard, a harbinger of dark times. He's come for—"
But Skylar didn't hear the rest. The knight's visor was up, and though it was impossible, though it defied every law of reality she knew, the face beneath the helmet was one she recognized.
"Dad?" The word escaped her lips in a breath, a mix of hope and disbelief.
The Shadowguard charged, and the world turned to chaos.
*. * *
The Shadowguard's charge was swift, its intentions unclear, but its focus was undeniably fixed on Skylar. The Academy's courtyard erupted into a frenzy, with students and instructors alike scrambling to intercept the dark figure.
Aidan grabbed Skylar's arm, pulling her back. "We need to move, now!"
Skylar's feet felt rooted to the spot, her gaze locked on the Shadowguard. That couldn't be her father. It was impossible. Her father was gone, a casualty of a shootout that left a young girl's world in tatters. Yet, the resemblance shook her to the core.
As the Shadowguard advanced, a group of the academy's protectors, clad in gleaming armor, met the challenge. A clash of metal and bursts of magic filled the air, the sounds of battle a violent symphony that drowned out all sense.
"We can't just stand here!" Aidan urged, his voice a sharp crack against the roar.
Skylar blinked, the spell of shock breaking. She ran, her heart a hammer against her ribs. Aidan was a blur beside her, leading her towards one of the academy's stone buildings.
They ducked inside just as a wave of dark energy crashed against the door, sealing it with an audible hiss. Skylar leaned against the cool wall, her breath ragged, her mind a storm of confusion and fear.
"What was that thing?" she panted, trying to make sense of the madness.
Aidan was pacing, his expression grim. "A Shadowguard, like I said. But they haven't been seen for centuries. They're the stuff of legends, not real life. And they certainly don't attack without reason."
Skylar's mind raced. Legends. Her father. The compass. The Keeper. It was all intertwined, a puzzle she couldn't solve. "Why does it look like my father?"
Aidan stopped, his eyes locking on hers. "You're sure?"
"As sure as I can be, given the circumstances."
Aidan's jaw tightened. "This changes everything. The Shadowguards were said to be soulless, mere husks carrying out the bidding of a darker power. If one has taken the form of your father, it could mean—"
He was cut off by a sudden tremor that rocked the building, sending dust cascading from the ceiling. The sounds of battle were louder now, as if the fight had followed them inside.
"We need to find the Headmaster," Aidan said, grabbing a sword from a rack on the wall. "He'll know what to do."
Skylar followed him through the corridors, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The academy was a labyrinth, its halls adorned with tapestries that depicted battles and heroes of old. Every instinct told her to turn back, to find a way home, but the image of the Shadowguard spurred her on.
They reached a grand hall, its doors flung wide open. Inside, a circle of instructors stood around an elderly man whose presence commanded the room. He was speaking in a language Skylar didn't understand, his hands weaving patterns in the air, intricate and fluid.
Aidan spoke, his voice urgent. "Headmaster, we have a problem."
The elderly man turned, his eyes finding Skylar's. In that moment, she knew he saw everything—the confusion, the fear, the desperate hope.
"Skylar Reed," he said, his voice resonating with a power that seemed to touch her very soul. "You have brought something with you from Earth, something that has awakened the shadows. Tell me, what do you carry?"
Skylar's hand went to the compass, the weight of it suddenly heavy in her pocket. She drew it out, holding it up for the Headmaster to see.
The room fell deathly silent as all eyes fixed on the small, seemingly insignificant object in Skylar's hand.
"That," the Headmaster said, "is no ordinary compass."
Before Skylar could ask what he meant, the building shook once more, a roar filling the air, louder than before. The walls began to crack, the ceiling groaned, and through the windows, a darkness was creeping, swallowing the light.
The Headmaster's eyes blazed with an inner fire. "Prepare yourselves," he boomed, as the shadows descended.
And Skylar, compass in hand, felt the weight of her destiny bearing down upon her like the storm she had chased so many times before.