Liora sprinted down the sun-baked streets of Elderin, clutching a loaf of warm bread in both hands. Sweat rolled down her cheeks, her breath sharp and heavy, but she didn't slow—not today. Today was the day her father returned from the Dark Realm, and nothing mattered more than welcoming him home with his favorite meal.
Villagers turned their heads as she raced past. Some gasped, some laughed, and some simply stared. Her long dark braids streamed behind her like ribbons caught in a storm.
"Slow down, you maniac!" shouted a woman near a food stand, hands clutching the edges of her cart as Liora shot toward her like an arrow.
"Sorry, miss!" Liora called back.
She grabbed a nearby metal pole, swung her body with a practiced twist, and narrowly avoided slamming into the cart. Her boots skidded on the dusty ground, but her balance held. She exhaled in relief—maybe I should slow down, she thought.
Then she imagined her father stepping through the gate hungry and exhausted, and her feet instantly moved again. Faster. Stronger. The people she passed blurred into colors and voices, and a small smile tugged at her lips. She had always been fast—faster than most youths twice her size—but today her speed felt almost unreal, fueled by excitement and hope.
After twenty minutes of nonstop running, the familiar outline of her home finally came into view. The gate creaked open, and standing there was a man in his late thirties—broad-shouldered, muscular, with travel-worn armor strapped to his chest and a heavy sword resting across his back.
Her father.
"Dad!" she shouted, voice cracking with joy.
He paused mid-step, turning toward her. His tired eyes widened at the sight of the speeding blur barreling toward him. With a quick adjustment of his stance, he opened his arms.
Liora leaped, nearly knocking him over, and he caught her with a grunt, stumbling back three whole steps before his boots finally planted firmly into the ground.
"You're getting faster every year," he wheezed, hugging her tightly.
Her heart flooded with warmth. She felt safe again—really safe—for the first time in months.
"Liora," he said gently, still trapped in her grip, "you can let go now. Unless your plan is to hug your old man to death."
"Five more minutes," she mumbled, refusing to release him.
He chuckled, patting her back. "Still stubborn, I see."
When she finally let go, she grabbed his arm and began dragging him inside the house, her excitement too much to contain.
Her mother stood in the doorway, arms crossed in amusement as her tired husband was pulled like a ragdoll behind their daughter.
"Liora," her mother said sternly, "let your father breathe. The man just came from the Dark Realm, not the market."
Liora pouted but obeyed. Her father shot her a grateful look before sighing in exhaustion.
"Go prepare the table for supper," her mother said.
Although disappointed to leave his side, Liora nodded. She hurried into the kitchen, humming happily as she set the plates, prepared the stew, and arranged the bread she had nearly died fetching.
Soon, the family gathered to eat.
They talked for hours—about her father's trip, the creatures he encountered, the strange storms in the Dark Realm, and the new things Liora had learned while he was gone. The good, the bad, and everything in between spilled out between laughter and warm food.
When dinner ended, the house felt full again—full of life, full of family.
As Liora got ready to head to bed, her father called her name softly.
She rushed to him again.
"I've got a present for you," he said.
Her eyes widened, shimmering with excitement. "A present?"
He reached into his cloak and pulled out a golden necklace—a delicate chain holding a smooth black gem at the center. The gem glowed faintly, pulsing like a heartbeat, illuminating the dark room with a soft, living light.
Liora stared in awe. The gem felt… alive.
"It's beautiful," she whispered.
"Careful with it," her father warned gently. "It's older than this kingdom. Older than me. Treat it well."
"I will," she said, fastening the necklace around her neck.
She hugged him, thanked him again, then skipped to her room with the glowing gem resting warmly against her skin.
Her parents went to their room, and the house soon fell quiet.
◆ THE DREAM ◆
Later, under the cold silence of night, Liora slept—and the necklace began to glow darker, deeper, brighter.
And then she wasn't in her bed anymore.
She stood in a vast, endless space where there were no shadows, only light. Pure, blinding, eternal light.
Her own shadow was the only dark thing she could see.
She walked forward slowly, overwhelmed by the strange weightless air. The ground—if it was ground—felt soft under her feet, like clouds woven into a solid floor. After wandering for what felt like minutes, she saw something—someone.
A young man.
He hung suspended above a raised platform, bound by glowing white chains wrapped around his arms, chest, and legs. The chains pulsed like living lightning. He looked a little older than her, with sharp features, silver hair falling over his forehead, and a physique carved like a warrior.
Even asleep, he looked exhausted—broken.
But the moment she stepped closer, his eyes snapped open.
Cold. Empty. Eyes that had forgotten what hope felt like.
"Who are you?" he asked quietly.
Liora froze, startled. His voice was deep and steady, but empty, like someone who had long stopped believing in anything.
"I—I'm Liora," she said softly. "Who are you?"
He didn't answer. Instead, his gaze narrowed.
"How did you get in here?"
"I don't know… I was sleeping. And then I woke up here. What is this place?" she asked. "And why are you chained?"
The young man looked away, his jaw tightening. For a moment she thought he wouldn't answer.
"This," he said finally, "is my prison."
She repeated the word without thinking. "Prison…"
"Yes," he said coldly. "Now leave."
Liora didn't move.
Instead, she stepped closer.
"What are you doing?" he snapped, alarm rising in his voice.
She didn't answer. She stepped even closer—close enough for him to feel the warmth of her presence, a warmth he hadn't felt in years. His heartbeat quickened against his will.
"Since you're in prison," she said simply, "and I'm somehow here… maybe we should escape together."
"H-Her logic is insane," he muttered under his breath. "She won't survive a week with that mindset…"
But as he was distracted, Liora reached out and touched the glowing white chains.
The moment her fingers brushed them—
The chains shattered.
The brilliant white turned pitch-black, crumbling like ash. A new chain formed—dark, swirling like smoke—and wrapped around her wrist. The other end connected to his.
His eyes widened in panic.
"No. No—NO! You shouldn't have touched the chain!"
Liora staggered back as a surge of energy rushed through her body. Her vision blurred, her head spinning. The chain faded into invisibility, but she could still feel it—like a thread tied to her soul.
"What happened…?" she whispered.
The young man stared at her with a mix of shock and anger.
"You fool," he said harshly, voice trembling with frustration. "You've… you've bound our souls."
She blinked. "Bound… our souls?"
Before he could explain, dizziness slammed into her like a wave. Her knees buckled.
"I'm… sleeping," she murmured, confused. "Why am I tired in a dream…?"
Her vision darkened, the world fading like smoke in the wind.
The last thing she heard was the young man's voice—still cold, but no longer empty.
"This changes everything…"
And she collapsed into the light.