Emma woke up to the sound of distant thunder rumbling across a stormy sky. Her head throbbed, and her wrists were sore where she had been bound. Blinking against the dim light, she found herself in a small stone cell, the light that was coming was from a torch flickering outside the iron bars.
"What happened?" she muttered while trying to sit up. Her every muscle is aching like she had been hit by a truck. She tries to remember and memories from the night before rushed back—the game, the bright light, and then… him. His face flashed before her eyes: the anger, the pain, the betrayal. He had changed so much in the ten years she had been gone. It was not something she expected.
Ten years. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut. It's been ten years here while only a year had passed in her world, a whole decade had gone by here. What had happened to him at that time? And what had happened to this world she once knew so well? She had so many questions but who is gonna answer it all.
Footsteps down the corridor outside her cell first caught her attention. She held her breath and listened. Footsteps grew louder then stopped outside her cell. A moment later, the rusted heavy iron door opened, showing a tall figure with dark robes.
"Finally you are awake," the figure said while stepping into the dim light. The hood fell back, revealing a young woman with sharp features and striking green eyes. She looked down at Emma from top to bottom with a mixture of curiosity and disdain.
"Who are you?" Emma asked, struggling to keep her voice steady. "Where am I?"
"I am Lyra, the High Sorceress of this realm," she replied, her arms crossed over her chest and her voice dripping with arrogance. "And you, my dear, are in the dungeons of the Dark Citadel, the stronghold of our great lord."
"Dark Citadel?" Emma repeated, her mind racing. This was not how she remembered the world of *Eternal Realms.* The Citadel had been a place of light and hope, not darkness and despair.
"Yes, the Dark Citadel," Lyra said. "Things have changed since you disappeared, 'heroine.' The world is not the same, and neither is our lord." This time she smirked as well.
Emma felt deep sank in her heart. "What happened to him?" she asked, her voice was barely a whisper. "He wasn't like this before."
Lyra's expression darkened, and she stepped closer, her green eyes boring into Emma's. "He was broken when you left, betrayed and abandoned by the one person he trusted most." There was strange anger in her voice. "In your absence, he became what you feared: the Dark Lord, ruler of all that remains. He has waged war against those who stood against him, crushed his enemies, and taken control of this realm."
Emma tears were rolling down as she listened while the sense of guilt and sorrow twisting her insides. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen," she said in a trembling voice. "I thought I was saving him."
"Well, you didn't," Lyra snapped. "You made things worse. But maybe now you can fix it—if he lets you live."
"What do you mean? What does he want from me?" Emma asked.
Lyra's smirk returned, and she turned away, heading for the door. "That is for our lord to decide," she replied over her shoulder. "He will see you when he's ready. Until then, you are meant to be here, in this cell."
After saying this she slammed the door shut, leaving Emma alone in the dim light.
Emma closed her eyes, attempting to calm her breathing. She had to find a method to contact him, to remind him of who he once was, before it was too late. But first, she wanted to figure out what had happened during those lost years.
It's been hours, or maybe days—it was hard to tell in the darkness. At last, the door creaked open again, and two guards stepped inside, their armor glinting in the torchlight.
"You," one of them grunted, pointing at Emma. "The lord wants to see you."
Emma's heart jumped to her throat as they dragged her roughly to her feet, jerking her from the cell. She stumbled along, on her weak legs, her mind was reeling with terror and anticipation.
The hallways of the Citadel were cold and dark, though torches were placed, sputtering, on the walls to give light. Emma failed to remember the layout of the place; but it seemed like her memory had been erased or drawn across with a dark veil.
At last, they came to a massive set of doors, with intricate symbols carved into them, shining dimly in the dark. The guards burst the doors open and revealed a giant throne room lit dimly with an eerie light.
At the far end of the room, seated on a black stone throne, he looked even more distant and cold now. Clearly, he was not the man Emma had once known.
"Leave us," he commanded, his voice echoing through the chamber. The guards quickly followed the order, leaving Emma standing alone before him.
"You came back," he said, his gaze piercing her like a blade. "After all these years, you came back. Why?"
Emma took a deep breath, gathering her courage. "I did not know how to return," she said softly. "But I never forgot you. There has not been a day when I have not thought about you since I left."
He snorted, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "And now that you are here, what do you intend to do?" he asked, leaning forward, "Apologize? Beg for forgiveness? You left me to face this world alone, Emma. You abandoned me."
"I know," Emma said, tears welling up in her eyes. "And I am so sorry. I didn't mean to leave you. I did not intend to cause all this pain. I thought I was doing what was best."
"Best?" he repeated, his voice filled in anger. "Do you have any idea what it's been like for me? Searching for you, wondering if you were dead or alive, trying to understand why you left me?"
Emma flinched at his words, his anger cutting through her like a knife. "I'm here now," she said, taking a step closer. "And I want to help you. I want to make things right, if you will let me."
For a moment, he said nothing, his expressions were unreadable but he was in deep thinking. Then, slowly, he stood up and descended the steps of his throne, stopping just a few feet away from her.
"Help me?" he repeated in a low voice. " Now you want to help me, after everything that you have done?"
Emma's heart was pounding but still she gathered courage to reply. "Yes, I do. I believe you can still be the person you were meant to be. We can change things together."
He stared at her for a long moment, his gaze was intense like he was looking deep inside her. Then, without warning, he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her close.
"We will see about that, Emma," he whispered in his hot breath against her ear. "But know this: I am not the man you once knew. And you are not my savior. You're my prisoner. And you will do as I say, or suffer the consequences."
Emma's heart sank at his words, but she refused to give up hope. She would find a way to reach him, to break through the darkness that had consumed him. She had to.
Deep down, she knew that only she can do this and she had to do this, for both their sakes.