How can I just let her walk away like that?
I follow her.
"No, Dorcha" Baelkers says, stopping me. "It's her turn to be alone."
Maybe he's right.
But watching her vanish into the trees—running, furious, shaken—leaves a knot of dread tightening in my chest.
I turn back to face him.
"My apologies, Master. But Aileen isn't me. I have to go."
I give him a brief bow and head into the forest.
I have to find her.
And fast.
-----
So. Let's recap.
This morning… Dorcha wasn't with me.
The boy who reassured me.
Who walked me to the Trial.
Who was hurled through the air and trapped by thorned vines.
The boy who almost died—
wasn't him.
He was no one.
Just like that disgusting elf I killed wasn't anyone either.
So, summing it all up: I didn't kill anyone.
Dorcha is fine.
He was never hurt.
He was never on the brink of death.
I don't even know whether to feel relieved or furious!
What kind of twisted joke is this?
Even shoving branches out of my way doesn't calm me down.
How could I have been so stupid?
I knew there would be a Trial.
And yet—it all felt real.
The screams.
The wounds.
The blood.
The cruelty.
The pain.
My stomach keeps tightening.
I feel so… betrayed.
Why do this to me?
Why trick me like this?
If Dorcha had really died, I—
I hate him.
I hate them.
All of them.
I want to disappear.
I want this whole thing to have never begun.
I want there to be no more Trials.
I want to cry.
Yes.
But I'm so angry I can't even do that!
Damn it!
This forest is too small for how I feel right now.
I want to scream.
To scream!
I grab a leaf, tear it to shreds, toss the pieces into the air—
…
Why do I feel bad for a leaf?
Dorcha would've burned the entire forest to the ground in my place.
Gods.
I'm such a stupid girl.
-----
Where did she go?
She hasn't been gone long—how can she already be this hard to find?
She was shattered.
I understand why. None of this makes any sense.
Even I was shaken, watching what she went through.
I wanted so badly to step into her illusion, to tell her it wasn't real.
But they wouldn't let me.
She barely spoke earlier. She must be stretched tight, like a drawn bowstring.
She needs to talk. To let it out.
Being alone won't help her.
And she needs to know—I had nothing to do with this.
I don't want her thinking that…
I mean—I didn't even know what the Trial would involve!
She can't blame me for that. Right?
If I ran into Urchoicha, I'd feel a lot calmer.
These paths feel longer than usual today.
Where is she?
…
There.
She's standing still. Completely motionless.
Staring at something on the ground.
I move closer and grab her wrist.
"Aileen—"
She whirls around and yanks herself free.
"Let go of me!"
I hold on, gripping both her arms.
She's pale. Taut. On the verge of exploding.
-----
What does he want?
Why is he here?
He was supposed to be dead—wasn't he?
Wasn't he?!
I hate him!
"Let go of me! I said let go!"
I twist and writhe like a snake.
If he doesn't release me, he's going to regret it!
-----
I won't let her go.
If she runs now… we'll lose each other for good.
I know it.
I can feel it.
She's hurt.
She hates me.
And I can't accept that.
I can't accept seeing her in this much pain.
"Leave me alone! Go away! You lied to me. All of you lied to me! I hate you! I don't ever want to see you again!"
I don't listen.
I pull her into my arms. Hard.
Like I've never held anyone before.
And suddenly—just as I hoped—the dam breaks.
She collapses into sobs.
I keep holding her.
Her shoulders shake.
She's crying. Shuddering.
At last, all the pain she's been carrying spills out and runs free.
"I'm here," I whisper. "It's okay. I'm here."
She sniffles, then wraps her arms around me in return. Tight.
"I'm so glad you're alive," she says.
"I couldn't have survived it if something had really happened to you."
Her voice hits me straight in the chest.
It's different.
Older.
Clear-eyed.
Aware.
Without realizing it, she's grown—suddenly, irrevocably.
And I'm glad.
And yet… it hurts.
I wish it hadn't happened like this.
Careful, as gentle as I can be, I lift her face.
I wipe away her last tears and stroke her cheek.
Her amber eyes gleam like flecks of molten gold.
They say crying makes eyes brighter.
It's true.
She looks at me.
-----
Dorcha's eyes are deep. Dark. Like endless black wells.
I never noticed just how beautiful he was.
He means so much to me…
He's leaning closer.
Closer.
My cheeks burn.
My breath catches.
My heart starts racing—
-----
I realize how badly I need him.
How much I want us to be one—together.
His lips look soft, like rose petals.
My heart is pounding out of control.
I can't hold back anymore.
Slowly, I kiss him.
He kisses me back.
My heart feels like it's going to burst with joy.
What is this feeling—this strange overlap of peace and fire?
It feels like magic.
-----
I don't quite understand how it happens, but a radiant golden cloud forms around us.
Birdsong rises into the air, light and joyful—
and we… somehow… find ourselves lifting above the forest canopy, floating without even realizing it.
It's a new sensation, unfamiliar and wondrous, but—
held close in his arms…
it feels like anything is possible.
-----
We're almost back at the village.
My heart feels light now, the Trial already fading into something distant.
Out of the corner of my eye, I glance at Dorcha.
He looks calm too.
Huh?
What are all those lights?
We exchange a look, pleasantly confused.
At the entrance to Bealist, there's a sign:
GREAT JOB, YOU TWO!
AILEEN, YOU WERE AMAZING!
Nearby stands a statue of Dorcha, Grogher, and me, with a plaque that reads:
TO THOSE WHO DARE TO FACE, TO CHANGE, TO BE!!
It's beautiful.
"They really threw a celebration for us…" Dorcha murmurs, stunned.
"Yes!" I shout, bursting with excitement. I grab his hand and pull him forward. "Come on!"
The streets and houses glow with thousands of colorful lights and pulsing fireflies.
The air smells of spun sugar.
Everywhere, stalls overflow with clothes, trinkets, toys, and all kinds of fragrant elven food and sweets.
Elves dance and sing in delight, some already a little tipsy on mead.
Inmus spots us and sounds a small horn.
As if on cue, everyone stops and turns to look.
Then a thunderous round of applause erupts.
We both blush, red as abro berries.
I look at Dorcha.
He looks at me.
And he smiles.
-----
None of this feels real.
I've never been praised before.
Everything has always been duty. Obligation.
This celebration is… unbelievable.
Two elven children are approaching, each holding a flower crown.
"Could you bend down a little, please? You're very tall."
We do—and they place the crowns on our heads.
Then they take our hands.
"To the honorary Prince and Princess of the Elves!"
"Thank you, little ones," Aileen says, smiling at them.
The crowd erupts into applause once more.
I honestly don't know what to say. I feel awkward, flustered.
I touch the crown on my head and smile.
Aileen is glowing—so alive.
It's wonderful to see her like this again.
From a distance, Grogher, Aeltiàfisar, and Baelkers watch us, proud.
"Now you must open the official dances!" one of the children declares.
The dances? Me?
Isn't there a Troll to fight instead? I'd much rather—
But Aileen takes my hand and looks at me like that…
Then the music begins.
And somehow—without knowing how—we start to spin among the elves.
Others join in, and the celebration resumes.
Joyful.
-----
The party is slowly coming to an end.
But the young ones had fun.
They truly needed it.
From where I stand, I spot Aileen.
Perched on a stone, gazing thoughtfully at the moon.
That look… Aer.
It reminds me of her so much.
When Aer was deep in thought, she would always stare at the night sky—almost like a ritual before an important moment. Her way of calming her heart, of putting her thoughts in order.
It will be hard to let Aileen leave tomorrow.
It comforts me to know she'll be beside two skilled warriors like Dorcha and Grogher, but still…
I'll miss her deeply.
I set down the drink in my hand and walk over to her.
"So," I ask softly as I approach, "did you enjoy yourself?"
She doesn't turn around.
"I'll miss you all…" she whispers, her voice a little rough.
An ancient ache tightens around my throat.
"This isn't goodbye," I tell her.
"I'll follow every step you take, Aileen. I promise."
She hugs me, burying her face against my chest.
I hold her back, and we stay like that in silence until our hearts finally settle.
Then Aileen pulls away and looks at me, serious.
"Master Aeltiàfisar… Dorcha told me that destroying the seal could start a war. Is that really possible?"
Yes… this time too.
"It could happen," I admit.
"Our world has already seen many wars. One of the most terrible began because of Aer and me."
She stares at me, shaken.
"I don't believe it. That's impossible."
"And yet… it happened. Though perhaps it's more accurate to say that we became the perfect excuse for it to begin. Ah—so many centuries have passed… it hardly even matters anymore."
"It does matter!" she insists. "Please, tell us. Your story might help us."
Dorcha comes up behind us and sits beside Aileen.
"Yes, Master Aeltiàfisar," he says quietly. "Please."
I hesitate.
But I weigh their gazes—and I understand that not only is it time, it's essential.
Aileen needs to understand who she truly is.
So I prepare myself to begin.