Elmira

Before she could even take a new breath, her vision cleared, and her foot touched soft, tall grass. There was a slight stumble when the portal pushed her out. The first thing she noticed was the sound of laughter, and it took her a too-long moment to realize it was hers.

This place, wherever it was, was everything that Sangora was not. The air was fresh and sweet, and her lungs hungered for it. Shades of green shone bright in every leaf. Trunks rose high into the sky, at least fifty, a hundred feet. Filled with sounds of critters and woodland beings and smells of sweet blossoms, damp earth, and something metallic like the faint scent of ozone after a storm.

Beneath it all, there was a deeper, more unsettling smell, the tang of burning wood. A familiar, bitter scent of fire clinging to the air even when there was none to be seen. The laughter died as fast as it had sprung up.

“Shit!”

Spinning around to face the Portal, the sigils were dormant, but the ground was scorched, and budding flames clung to remnants of leaves. It must have been a forgotten Portal, or the flash should not have ignited the underbrush around it.

A wall of vines with small, blue flowers climbed around the stone arches and covered them. Until she arrived. Now they were torn, singed, and burning.

Her skin tingled as her magic surged to the surface. The Sangora nexus had acted like a wet blanket on her arcane abilities for all these years. Feeling it, the return was intoxicating and overwhelming.

Before she even thought about it, shapes formed in the air. She drew deep, pulling on the power that had been dormant, bending the wind to her will. The flames surrendered to the rush of cool air, leaving trails of light gray smoke soon dispersed by the natural wind.

For a moment, she stared at the smoldering ground. The charred earth a scar, deep and raw, where something beautiful had once grown in peace. It felt wrong somehow. A scar it had done nothing to deserve. This place had nothing to do with her, yet it was already an extension of her. Her power. Her mistakes. Her heritage.

“And now I am feeling sorry for plants,” she muttered to no one before turning on her heel and walking away, shaking her head.

Her knees buckled about four minutes later, and she sank to the ground with her back pressed against a mighty tree trunk. The reality of it all hit her like an emotional storm crashing over her in waves that threatened to drown her. Deep, endless ache coiled in her chest. Surrendering was the only way she knew how to fight it.

Embrace it, embrace every last bit of it. The fear, the darkness, the chaos, the guilt, the rage, the sorrow, the anger, the shame. She let it all roll over her, the grimness chasing grief chasing terror.

Let it seep into her bones until she wasn’t sure who she was anymore. Was this El or Elmira? It was certainly more than Arman, more than being safe after 80 years, more than getting a slap on the wrist.

It wasn’t even the reckoning she feared. It was something much bigger, more suffocating than any of those things. But it was too complicated to untangle, too vast to define.

There was no point in figuring it out, not yet.

Eventually, exhaustion stole over her. Her body stopped being racked with sobs as she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Hours passed. How many, she didn’t know. But when she woke, her daggers were already in her hands, the cold metal a comforting weight, and within the next heartbeat, her feet were under her.

“You let me sleep?” she hissed aloud, her words barely a whisper to the patron she knew would hear. “Shterc!”

There was no answer, but she didn’t need one. Their bond flickered. She had not forgotten what was at stake. The world beyond her, a strange and wild place, demanded her focus.

She had vital information, and whether or not anyone would believe it, someone had to be told. Her mind flashed to Ulric, the head of intelligence. The reason she’d gone to Sangora in the first place. The thought of him brought her no peace.

He had always been the pragmatic one. But after everything, could he still trust her? Was he even alive? Eighty years was a long time, even for those who did not mature to adulthood until their second century.

There was no time to dwell on it. She would find out soon enough.

Cursing, she checked that everything was in its proper place before pulling herself together. Of course, it was fine. She was nowhere near Sangora. In fact, she did not appear to be anywhere near anyone at all.

Traveling by Portal wasn’t as simple as getting near it, flicking a switch, and stepping through. There was magic involved. Ancient magic from the realms of Faerie and Shade woven into the very fabric of this material world. Magic no longer easily attainable since the Shadow War tore through the realms, leaving a wound still twisting below the surface of everything.

How long would it be before she stopped looking over her shoulder?

“Never.” Her stomach twisted with grim realization.

Around her, the forest thrummed with life. Vibrant and alive and eerily serene in its age. Giant trees towered and twisted with the weight of millennia, their roots curling beneath the earth like sleeping dragons.

It was as if the forest was breathing, a quiet rhythm of time stretching into the unknown. One of the first Avaleenian forests, the oldest of its kind.

Oh. That’s where she was. A long way from home and a long way from the heart of Khorun where Sangora lay. This was Ala. A continent on the opposite side of the world as mysterious as it was wild, and one she did not know nearly enough about. Only that this was Pala’s favored place, the divine daughter of Ignis, goddess of war and love, and freedom.

“Pala flame of the heart and blade of the free, let me pass through your garden, open my eyes to that which you see.”

This verdant breath of freedom was the last of its kind, and she breathed in deep while pondering her next few steps and going through the motions of activating the Portal.

Without warning a crackling sound echoed across the clearing. The runes on the ground shimmered, flickered, and the Portal went dark. Elmira froze.

She tried again. And again. But the Portal remained locked.

“Fuck!”

“It was a long shot.” The voice sounded both amused and disappointed. “Not every Portal is a crossroads.”

“I know, I know.”

It was an anchor. A Portal that received travelers, waiting to pull anyone who came close. That also meant there had to be another one somewhat nearby. A second anchor who did the opposite, like a magnet, pushing people away from this place and into the Veil that allowed such travel to be possible.

It wasn’t all that unexpected. The path she found was convoluted, based on what appeared to be old, outdated, and misleading information. Portals had been breaking down with unsettling regularity ever since the war. With the realms in imbalance, the magic that held these constructs together was strained.

How many Portals did Ala have? Elmira scowled, knowing that was the wrong question. No, the real question was: what was the pattern? She needed to think like them, the ones who created these paths. Not too close to each other, not enough to tangle the lines, but not too far apart either, not so far that they made the journey unbearable. They had designed these portals like mirrors. Like reflections. She’d have to find the other half.

Her hands twitched. She could feel the heat of the magic under her skin, as though the magic was mocking her. Anger flared, but she swallowed it. Time was slipping away.

Adjusting her bag on her shoulder, Elmira set her jaw and walked away. The jungle stretched on, its dense foliage whispering secrets of forgotten paths. It was as if the forest was both watching and waiting. This was the moment she had dreaded. When the old ways were no longer reliable.

Her hand moved to her sides and ribs, where her blades rested in their sheaths. If she had learned anything, it was to adapt, find a way around. Stepping into the labyrinth of stone and foliage, she was determined to find another way. No matter how convoluted.

The air around her seemed to pulse, alive and tangled, like a web of possibilities. A path had always existed, hidden under layers of time and ruin. And she would find it. She had no other choice.

The voice of Ayursha was a soft but unwavering presence. “You are mine, child.”

Elmira smiled grimly. Conditional love. Conditional support. One path. One choice. Whatever came next, she would face it as she always had, headfirst, heart open, and ready for whatever awaited beyond the Veil of the Portal.

Her karai’i led the way, a living thread that seemed to tug her feet, curling through the thick underbrush. It was a perfect trail, overgrown but deliberate. She followed it instinctively, trusting it to take her to where she needed to be.

Mist thickened around her. It was always like this during the autumn months when the warm earth met the cold breath of the encroaching winter. The trees crept closer, their dark silhouettes casting long shadows. The air grew heavier, suffused with the weight of old magic, tension crawling beneath her skin.

Not much farther now.

When her legs began to ache, a familiar shape rose ahead, barely visible in the fog. Stone, worn by age but still holding the runes carved deep into its surface. Moss had almost entirely covered the slab, but the glyphs were still discernible. The second anchor.

“Found you.” Her fingers hovered over the karai’i, her pulse quickening.

Temptation was there, a sharp and dangerous whisper at the back of her mind. She could feel the pull of it. What if…? For a moment, Elmira’s breath caught in her throat.

What if I never go back? The thought of simply walking away, of disappearing into the unknown, was intoxicating.

She had the power to slip through the Veil and lose herself in its strange realm, to fade away. War. Threats. Pressure. All of it could be left behind. No one would know.

But her will faltered, her fingers stilling over the karai’i as the ritual words threatened to slip from her lips. She was here for a reason. This was no time for indulgence. Not yet.

The silence of the forest stretched around her, and the mist seemed to whisper her name. Her pulse quickened as the moment hovered between possibility and decision.

No. Elmira shook her head, a sense of resolve hardening in her chest. The world couldn’t afford her to disappear. Not again.

With a final breath, she pressed her fingers to the karai’i and continued the ritual. The words left her mouth like an old song. The stone rumbled beneath her touch.

She would find the answers she needed, and then, then she would leave Avaleen behind.

Because it would have to be the world. If it ever came to it. She had enemies in Khorun. Oliria knew her on sight. Varu was a little too raucous for her taste, the Araxi Whites a little too unpredictable. Ala a little too boring.

Guilt of even letting her thoughts wander so far filled her throat with bile. Too many counted on her. Elmira was no rogue, maze hunter, or undercover agent. She was the Elder of Agartha, Voice of Ayursha. No matter how far she might have drifted from those titles and responsibilities.

“It is a possibility.” The words of a suitor. Dangerous.

Elmira sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “Is it, though?”

“You think you could have taken this little adventuring trip without me wanting you to? You are not alone, you know.” The voice chuckled drily. “The point of your little return is to hand the baton over to new hands.”

“As lovely as that sounds, I do remember our bargain.”

“You do not know me, child.”

“Are you telling me it is all right to run away? Again?”

“I am asking you to think about everyone back home. Everyone you have not seen in a lifetime. Everyone you have forgotten to save the mission.”

Elmira shook her head, a tired smile curling her lips. “There are a few I would not mind seeing again. A few I would.”

“There is Alana,” her patron reminded her. “She will join the Awakening.”

“My little girl is growing up.” Elmira let out a soft exhale that carried both pride and sadness in it. “And I missed it… because I put myself first.”

“You put your people first.” The voice carried a hint of reproval. “And let us not forget, she was the one who kicked you out the door.”

It was true. But the guilt still stung. When the opportunity to leave, to get out of the Aegis Citadel and the politics of the Empire, had presented itself, she had snatched it. The weight of it had never been easy to carry, but it had been her choice.

Being the Elder of Agartha had never been her own choice. It was both a gift and a curse, an unchosen responsibility that demanded more than she could ever give. The position was freedom, but it came with iron chains that bound her more tightly than duty ever could.

Before she could dwell further on that thought, a familiar hum filled the air. The Orb around her neck activated, casting a soft glow as the Portal flared up, its surface shimmering.

It beckoned her with a million little refractions of sunlight. A vortex of light and swirling energy called to her.

“Did you give me a vacation?” The notion was both hilarious and preposterous, but once the idea settled into her mind, it was difficult to shake.

The voice was as dry as ever. “Who in their right mind takes a vacation in Sangora?”

Elmira huffed. “People who go to the right side of it, naturally.”

Her hand skimmed the horizon of the Portal. It was as if it were there and not at the same time, her skin creating ripples that traveled outward.

“Are you sure about this?”

“You designed the path.”

Elmira scoffed. “That plan went out the window with the first step. I do not know this one. It could lead me anywhere. To Dashia or Faerie. Back to Khorun. How many active Portals are there in this world?”

“39. Hmm… No, 37.” She sounded distant.

“What is wrong?”

“Trust your instincts, Elmira Delid. But you have to hurry. The Portals are… The Storm is approaching.”

“Alright.” She didn’t push. Not this time.

One step closer to everything she fought for. Her chest tightened with exhaustion and the weight of how much she had lost.

As she moved to step through the Portal, her thoughts drifted again to the forest around her. The trees seemed to shift ever so slightly in her peripheral vision, the shadows moving just a little too fast, the branches swaying in impossible directions.

It was subtle, but the strangeness of this place was undeniable. As though the veil between realms was thinner here, the Faerie and the Shade bleeding through to the edges of this world. It was in the air, too.

Perhaps this was the way of matters where Portals stood, and she had not considered it before. Or this was something new. She filed that under matters to bring up with the Council upon her return.

Still. The forest was older than anything she had encountered even in Faerie, and yet it felt like a place out of time, a land on the verge of collapse, where nothing was quite as it seemed.

No, she was not alone here, she realized when she let the Veil embrace her once again.

The thought didn’t make her feel safer.