It's over.
I'm exhausted.
So drained I can barely stay upright. I lean against the wall before my legs give out.
"Majory!"
My head snaps up.
Asher.
He's here.
Right in front of me.
With him, two boys… an orc—no, maybe a troll?—and three winged creatures hovering nearby.
If he's here…
then it worked.
This is it.
The moment.
I have to—
My breath catches.
My heart stumbles, missing a beat.
I don't know what to say.
I don't know what to do.
I see him running toward me.
To hell with the prophecy.
I just want to hold him.
I run too.
But—
what the—
Just before we can touch, something slams into us.
Hard.
I'm thrown violently against the wall.
Pain explodes in my chest. I can't breathe.
The world spins.
Asher… where—
I turn my head.
He's been thrown back as well, crashing into the opposite wall.
He looks dazed—but his eyes are already searching for me.
"Majory!" he calls.
I push myself up, trembling.
He does the same.
And now?
____
Meg.
My Meg.
She looks so pale. Too thin.
Like she's been hollowed out by fear.
Her eyes are wet, shining with unshed tears.
She's moving toward me—unsteady, swaying.
I push myself up and take a step toward her.
She lifts her hand. Just slightly.
A silent plea.
Don't come any closer.
I stop.
She looks like she's about to speak.
Like the words are tearing her apart from the inside.
"Asher…"
Her voice breaks.
"I… I have to kill you."
The words hit me.
And somehow—somehow—I understand.
If she has to kill me…
then she loves me too.
If that's the price, then so be it.
It doesn't matter what happens to me.
The only thing that matters is that she survives.
That she finally gets out of this place alive.
I look at her and force my best smile—the kind meant to reassure.
The kind meant to make things easier for her.
"I'm ready."
____
He's ready.
I'm not.
My chest feels unbearably heavy, like a stone pressing me down from the inside.
I can't believe it.
If he's ready…
then he feels something for me too.
Why?
Why did we waste so much time, never saying what we felt?
Now…
we have to say goodbye.
Forever.
In the worst way possible.
Me—the executioner.
Him—the victim.
Of a love that will never be fulfilled.
But these people—
They're here.
If they're here, maybe they'll stop me.
Maybe someone will step forward.
Maybe someone will say something.
Right?
…
Right?
…
No.
No one speaks.
Silence.
They're watching me.
Watching us.
Quiet. Intent.
As if they're waiting to enjoy the moment.
And I—
—
Poor Meg…
How I wish I could reassure her.
Tell her that everything will be all right.
Meg…
my Meg.
My little Meg.
I can't look away from her.
Not even for a second.
Look at me, my love.
Please.
Do it, sweetheart.
It doesn't matter if you kill me.
As long as you are safe,
I'll be happy.
—
A dagger appears before me.
Ancient.
Beautiful.
Long and heavy, forged from gleaming silver.
It glows softly, its blade etched with symbols I don't recognize—runes older than memory itself.
It's meant for me.
For him.
For us.
A voice suddenly crashes through the air.
It doesn't belong to anyone here.
"Kill him."
The command is cold. Absolute.
Terrible.
No.
I won't.
I grab the dagger and claim it as my own.
But I will never stab the boy I love.
The dagger…
is for me.
I turn the blade inward and drive it into my own body.
Straight into my abdomen.
Fast.
A single, clean strike.
As screams erupt around us—desperate, broken no's—
I know I've done the right thing.
The only thing.
After all… isn't this my fault?
My dynasty's fault.
My blood.
My burden.
Mine.
Mine alone.
Asher.
My Asher.
You're safe now.
No one will ever hurt you again.
I see him in front of me.
He's shouting—crying—his voice torn apart by panic.
I feel his warm hand against my stomach, pressing hard, trying to stop the blood.
I can't hear what he's saying.
Don't cry, my love.
I'm happy now.
You're safe.
I try to give him one last smile.
So many little dots…
they must be stars, waiting to welcome me.
Everything is dark now.
All of it.
Dark.
—
"Meg! Please—wake up!
Meg, stay with me!"
I catch her just in time, gripping her shoulders as her body gives in.
I lower her to the ground carefully, terrified of hurting her more.
Then Dorcha steps in.
How does he stay so calm?
"Hold her," he says. "I need to pull the dagger out."
I nod without thinking.
I just do it.
He grabs the weapon and yanks it free in one sharp, precise motion.
Meg jerks.
Blood pours out of her stomach.
So much blood.
I try to stop it—but how?
How do you stop something like this?
It's like a flood.
No, no, no—
If she loses any more blood, she won't survive.
"It's okay. It's okay… you'll make it, Meg," I whisper, even though I don't believe my own words.
This isn't real.
This has to be a nightmare.
"Why did you do it, Meg? Why—"
There's no answer to that question.
I was supposed to die.
Not her.
Not her.
There's no point trying to stop the bleeding anymore.
So I stop.
I pull her against me instead.
Rock her gently, like a child.
I hold her with everything I have.
All my love. All my fear.
And I pray to the Great Sage—to whoever might still be listening—to see us.
To have mercy.
Her breathing grows weaker.
And I'm not ready to lose her.
Why, Meg?
Why?
I can't stop myself. I cry until there's nothing left in me.
The sharp smell of blood fills my lungs,
making my despair feel painfully real.
—
This can't end like this.
I refuse to accept it.
Wait—
Baelkers said something… didn't he?
Didn't he say Raertha is a healing unicorn?
Then maybe—
just maybe—
There's only one way to find out.
I turn toward Raertha.
Our eyes meet.
He seems to nod.
Together, we move toward the Princess's body.
I gently touch Asher's shoulder.
He looks at me—completely lost.
Shattered.
"Let us handle this," I tell him softly, trying to sound steady.
Trying to give him something to hold on to.
He steps aside and gives me space.
I kneel beside Majory and place my hand on her forehead.
We have to hurry.
She's already cold.
I begin to chant—a melody from my people, the only one that might still work:
Rainbow of feelings,
bring an end to her pain.
Rainbow of love,
restore her wounded heart.
Rainbow of life,
let this trial finally end.
Then I turn to Raertha.
He lowers his head with solemn grace
and points his horn toward the wound.
A blinding light floods the room.
Majory's body lifts into the air.
—
Meg is floating in the air…
Can they really save her?
Her face—
it's changing.
Softening.
The light gathers, pulling itself into a single point,
then dives straight into the wound.
Is this dangerous?
The light bursts outward—
Meg!
It seals the wound.
The skin closes.
Unbroken. Intact.
Majory is gently lowered back to the ground.
She's unconscious, but—
I rush forward and scoop her into my arms.
"She's healed, right?" I ask Aileen, my voice shaking.
"Is she really healed?"
It feels impossible.
Please.
Please say yes, cloud-girl.
She looks at me.
And she smiles.
And—
Majory is opening her eyes.
"Meg! Meggy!" I cry out.
Joy crashes over me, overwhelming.
"I love you," she whispers, a gentle smile curving her lips.
I can't wait anymore.
I won't.
I bend down to her.
And with my heart bursting at the seams,
I kiss her.
Drunk on relief.
On joy.
It's over.
Finally…
It's over.
—
We had lost hope.
We were so tired.
Sitting here on our thrones, it felt as though time itself had stopped.
Our little girl has been trapped for so long…
I wonder if she'll ever make it out of those dreadful underground halls.
But—
wait.
That light…
Meg…?
"I'm not imagining this, am I, my love?" I ask my husband, my voice trembling.
He's staring at the light too, a wide, open smile spreading across his face.
"No, my dear," he says softly. "That's Meg."
She's in Asher's arms, surrounded by our guests.
They kept their promise.
They did it.
I run to her.
"My love!" I cry, pulling her into my arms as relief breaks through me in a flood of tears.
"How are you? Are you hurt? Are you all right? Let me look at you!"
As I hold my daughter close, I hear my husband speak behind me, addressing our guests.
His voice is full of emotion.
"Thank you, Princess… Knights… Asher… thank you.
We would be honored to host you all here at the castle tonight.
Tomorrow, we have a promise to fulfill."
Anything they ask.
Nothing matters more than Majory.
She joins us then, wrapping her arms tightly around both of us.
We're together again.
It feels unreal.
—
Mmm…
how I missed sleeping in a real bed.
Do I really have to get up…?
Outside, joyful trumpet calls echo through the air, mixed with excited voices.
Must be the celebration.
Queen Bànrion and King Ciallmhar were so overjoyed at finding their daughter that they invited the entire kingdom.
And apparently… they're going to give us their Secret too.
Finally.
I sit up and stretch.
Morning light spills softly across the floor.
With all this excitement, sleeping feels like a waste.
I slip out of bed and walk to the window.
It's snowing.
Winter again.
The children outside are building snowmen—beautiful, crooked little things.
Some of them chase each other, laughing, throwing snowballs.
The adults hurry back and forth.
Busy, but peaceful.
If only they knew.
If only they understood.
Another magical month has passed.
Time is moving forward, mercilessly.
Will we make it?
Damn it—we need to hurry.
I head to the dressing room. I need to put on my suit—
…
W O W.
What is this?
I step closer to the chair.
It's breathtaking.
Coral red.
Damask fabric, inlaid with opals.
As if it was made to bring out the color of my eyes… my skin.
And these shoes—so beautiful.
I lean in to admire the fabric when I hear someone enter.
I turn.
A young maid stands behind me.
"A gift from our Sovereigns, in honor of today's ceremony, Your Highness," the young gnome explains.
"Please allow me to help you put it on."
Thank goodness she's here. I would've never managed on my own.
Well… there's no point in letting anxiety take over now.
Let's enjoy today. Tomorrow, we'll leave.
I smile at her, and the preparations begin.
It feels like diving into a distant past—so far away it barely feels like mine anymore.
Without my father.
My mother.
My people.
My kingdom…
What does a crown even mean?
"You look radiant—like a star," the maid says after placing a delicate tiara on my head.
"Thank you," I reply.
She gives a small bow and leaves.
I step closer to the mirror.
I've changed so much.
Where is the little girl I was not long ago?
I barely recognize myself.
I'm taller… more—
more of a woman.
I have my mother's figure now, and…
what happened to the face I had just months ago?
Am I still me?
Mom…
Dad…
I wish you were here with me.
"I'll free you from the obsidian," I whisper to my reflection.
"And I'll bring you back to me."
I take one last look in the mirror.
Then I turn and walk out.