“What went wrong?” Shiya whispered, her voice trembling as she dabbed her tear-streaked cheeks. The twilight was thickening, wrapping the road in a somber hue, yet she kept driving into the unknown. Her mind was as lost as the path ahead. Every mile took her farther from everything she knew—everything that hurt.

The car sputtered, coughed, and then gave out entirely. The fuel gauge pointed to empty, confirming her fate. She was stranded on a murky, unmarked road, surrounded by silence and shadows.

Shiya let her forehead rest on the steering wheel. A few seconds passed, and then the sobs came—loud, heartbroken cries that echoed into the void. No one heard. No one cared.

Eventually, she stepped out of the car. The air was damp, cold, and laced with the scent of wet earth. She wandered aimlessly, her footsteps unsure. A soft light flickered ahead—a firefly, glowing gently in the darkness. As if hypnotized, Shiya followed it deeper into the forest, her mind drifting into numbness.

The firefly led her to a serene clearing. Moonlight shimmered on a still pond, creating an illusion of silver fire on water. A wooden bridge arched over the water, old but strong. At the center of the bridge, an old woman sat quietly, her eyes lost in thought.

Shiya hesitated, then approached and sat beside her.

“Life is unreasonable, isn’t it?” she murmured. “It just gives us... suffering.”

The old woman slowly turned her gaze toward Shiya. Her eyes held centuries of wisdom and sorrow.

“It is,” the woman said simply.

“Then why?” Shiya asked, her voice cracking. “Why choose to stay in such a cruel world?”

The woman smiled faintly. “I’ve been waiting for someone.”

“For who?”

“You.”

Shiya blinked, startled. “Me?”

The woman didn’t respond, but she reached into her cloak and pulled out a smooth, pale stone that glowed faintly under the moonlight.

“This... looks valuable. Why give it to me?” Shiya asked, standing slowly.

“Will you keep it safe for me?” the woman said, holding it out.

Shiya hesitated, then gently accepted the stone. It was warm, pulsing slightly in her hand like a heartbeat. Before she could say more, she looked up—and the old woman was gone.

“Where…?” Shiya turned in circles, but there was no trace. “She’s gone…”

A shiver ran down her spine.

“What’s the point of being scared?” she muttered. “I’ll be gone soon anyway.”

She clutched the stone and looked out over the water. Her thoughts turned to her family, to laughter once shared, to love she once believed in. Bitterness crept in.

“I hate you, Xyon,” she sobbed. “You left me for that damn company.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks again. Anger surged. She threw the stone into the water, watching the ripples spread. A moment later, she stepped to the edge—and jumped.

Cold. Silence. Then panic.

The water engulfed her. It invaded her lungs, her thoughts. She sank, kicking weakly. Her strength faded. As her eyes fluttered closed, she thought, No one’s coming. No one ever will.

Then—a scent. A flower?

Her lungs burned, yet her mind slowly quieted. Warmth enveloped her. She reached out and felt softness.

“A… pillow?”

Her eyes opened.

She was no longer in the pond but in a bright, beautiful room. Morning sunlight poured through open windows, revealing a lush flower garden below. Butterflies fluttered through the air.

Shiya sat up slowly, stunned. “Am I in... heaven?”

“Talking to yourself already?” a tiny voice piped up.

Startled, Shiya looked around. “Who said that?”

“Boo!” shouted a tiny, winged creature as it popped into view.

“AHH!” Shiya screamed, recoiling and accidentally swatting it against the wall.

“Ow! You hit me, Sushie!” the little creature groaned.

“What... What are you?!” Shiya gasped.

“I’m ...Chipi?,” the creature said confused, floating up. She waved her hand and transformed into human size. “And I’m still cute, even when you hit me.”

Shiya blinked. “You... turned human?”

Chipi dusted herself off. “Yes?... And by the way, what’s the big idea? Stop the act haha. You're late! It’s your special day!”

“Special day?” Shiya echoed.

“Yes! The Queen is proclaiming the new Princess of Eriland. And the one who caught the heart of Prince Liu?”

“Huh?...” Shiya's head spun. “Wait. What? Prince who?”

Chipi frowned. “Stop being silly Sushie. I told you to stop the act already."

“My name is Shiya. Not Sushie!”

Chipi rolled her eyes and dragged Shiya off the bed. “Whatever. Time to get ready.”

Soon, other pixies joined to help Shiya dress. Elegant fabrics wrapped around her, transforming her into a vision of royal beauty. Her confusion only grew.

“She looks amazing,” whispered one pixie.

A knock. The door opened.

“It’s Prince Liu,” said a soft voice.

Shiya turned—and froze. The man in the doorway... he looked like Xyon.

Tears filled her eyes. “Xyon?” she whispered.

The prince stepped forward, concerned. “Sushie, are you alright?”

“Don’t come near me!” she cried, stumbling back. “Don’t!”

Chipi rushed to her side, confused. “What’s happening?”

Without answering, Shiya ran. Past startled fairies, through majestic halls, until she reached a guarded gate. A tall warrior stepped into her path.

“You can’t leave, Princess,” he said gently. “It’s dangerous beyond this gate.”

“I don’t care! Let me go!” she yelled, shoving him.

He didn’t stop her. “Let her pass,” he told the guards.

Shiya stepped into a strange world—one of gray skies, dying trees, and sorrow. She walked, driven by pain, until a chill crept up her spine.

Something was following her.

She turned. Shadows moved. A dark mist took shape—half-human, half-specter.

“Give me the stone!” it screeched. “THE STONE!”

“What stone?...I don’t have it!” she screamed, running. The creature surged forward, catching her foot. She fell, hard. It loomed above her and wrapped around her neck.

She couldn’t breathe.

Help… someone… please…

Suddenly, a sharp whizz—an arrow pierced the creature’s head. It let out an unearthly scream and evaporated into smoke.

Shiya gasped for air, coughing violently. She looked up to see the warrior from the gate.

“Are you alright, Princess?” he asked, kneeling beside her. “Why did you run? You could’ve fought it off yourself.”

“How? I don’t know how to fight...” she murmured before everything faded into black.

“I was betrayed and left by the only person I could run to. I could only cry… and nothing more could explain how heavy this feeling is.”

~Shiya

“What are you doing, Xyon? Why didn’t you just let her die?” Xiao hissed, pacing angrily across the room.

Xyon sat calmly by the window, unbothered by her fury. “We need to keep her alive, Xiao. She holds the largest share in the company. If she dies now, everything we've worked for could fall apart.” His voice was smooth, calculated. “You need to calm yourself.”

Xiao’s face twisted in frustration. “So... what’s your plan now? I’m tired of being your damn secretary, hiding everything and pretending!”

Xyon stood and walked over to her, his eyes softening as he gently held her hand. “Sweetheart,” he said with a sly smile, “we’re almost there. The company will be ours. Just a little more patience. Once everything is settled, we won’t have to hide anymore. No more lies, no more secrets. Just us.”

Xiao turned her face away with a huff, but her anger simmered quietly beneath the surface.

Unbeknownst to both of them, Shiya lay in the hospital bed, eyes shut but mind wide awake. She had heard every word—every lie, every betrayal.

“How dare you two deceive me like this…” she thought bitterly, her heart aching. Tears slid silently down her cheeks, soaking into the pillow beneath her head.

Moments later, Xiao left the room, heels clacking against the tile. Xyon sighed, remaining behind, and turned to Shiya.

“Shiya…” he murmured upon noticing her eyes open. He walked closer, his voice taking on a false tenderness. “I’m so glad you’re awake. I was... really worried. Why did you do such a thing?”

Shiya stared at him with cold, hollow eyes. She said nothing for a moment, calculating her next words. She forced her voice to remain even.

“Tell me… how did you find me in that place?”

“I asked someone to follow your car,” Xyon answered, a nervous edge to his tone. “I was worried... You weren’t in a good place after the news about your dad. I thought you might do something reckless—”

“Stop it!” Shiya snapped. Her voice cracked from both pain and fury. “Don’t speak of him. You have no right to mention my father.”

Xyon recoiled slightly, guilt—or perhaps irritation—flashing in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I just... I asked you to wait for me, to give me time to sort things out. And then you disappeared. I was scared I lost you…”

You already lost me, Shiya wanted to scream. I saw you... kissing her. But she swallowed her pain for now.

“I want to be alone,” she said firmly. “Please close the door when you leave.”

Xyon hesitated, then nodded. “Alright. We’ll talk when you’re ready.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

That’s the last kiss you'll ever get from me.

As the door closed behind him, Shiya broke down, the tears she’d been holding back pouring freely. “You should have just let me die…” she whispered. “It would have hurt less than this.”

She turned to the window, gazing blankly at the fluttering butterfly that had just landed on the glass. Something about it tugged at her memory. A fragment from the dream—or was it a vision?—she had before waking up.

Eri Kingdom… the pixies… Prince Liu… it was all just a dream, wasn’t it?

She sighed. “What a beautiful nightmare.”

Eriland…

Yon Zue stood tall before the Prince. “Prince Liu, the Princess left the palace,” he reported.

“What? Why did you let her go?!” Prince Liu’s voice rose with alarm as he glanced at the empty corridor behind Yon Zue.

“The Princess can handle herself,” Yon Zue replied coolly. “But something about her felt… off. I followed her in secret. There’s something wrong. I intend to discuss this with the Queen.”

The Prince frowned. “Why won’t you ever just talk to me straight? You always run to my sister. Do you like her or something?”

Yon Zue remained composed. “She is the Queen.”

With that, he turned on his heel. “Excuse me. I need to escort the Princess back to her quarters. I’m starting to get a headache from your whining.”

“Hey—! Yon Zue!” the Prince called after him, but Yon Zue was already gone.

They had grown up like brothers, trained under the same master. But duty had split their paths. Prince Liu carried the weight of the crown. Yon Zue bore the castle’s protection in silence, loyal but detached.

Flashback…

“We must wed the Prince to the one who bears the stone,” Erica advised the Queen. “Only then can the kingdom gain unshakable power.”

Queen Krystle, young but wise, nodded slowly. “Yes… but I worry. My brother deserves to choose his own path.”

“If it means securing our future, I accept whatever match is required,” Prince Liu said, stepping into the room. “Don’t worry about me.”

The three shared a quiet moment of understanding.

Outside, Sushie—Shiya’s other self—wandered alone through the twilight-drenched palace grounds. The stone pendant at her neck pulsed softly, warm against her skin.

So… I’m only important because of this thing, huh?

She exhaled slowly, bitter air filling her lungs. Then, without warning, her shimmering wings flared open. With one powerful beat, she soared into the sky, letting the wind slice past her.

Clouds churned above—unnaturally dark, trembling with fury.

KRAKOOOM!

Lightning cracked like a whip across the heavens, striking her chest with divine rage.

A cry ripped from her lips as she spiraled downward, crashing hard into the clearing below with a sharp thud.

“Ugh…” She grimaced, her body aching. “What now…”

A shadow fell over her, and a lazy, familiar voice followed.

“Yo, Sushie. That was a graceful crash,” Arnoux teased, standing above her with a smug grin and crossed arms.

She glared up at him, winded. “Arnoux… Can’t you show up without mocking me for once?”

He crouched beside her, unbothered. “What can I say? It’s part of my charm. Ornaphendreul asked me to keep an eye on you—so here I am.”

She rolled to her feet, shaking off the pain. Her eyes flared with golden light as the pendant glowed and stretched into the form of a sleek, ethereal sword. Her armor rippled into existence, laced with runes that shimmered like starlight. Her ears lengthened, her eyes sharpened—her elven blood awakened.

“Then keep up,” she spat, wings twitching with strain. “Because I’m not in the mood.”

“Oh, you’re still clinging to that stone?” Arnoux smirked, drawing his twin daggers. “You know it’s only a matter of time.”

Sushie didn’t respond. She lunged.

Her movements were sharp—wounded but relentless. She struck with brutal elegance, her sword a blur of silver arcs. Arnoux backflipped, barely dodging the slash that carved a clean gouge into a marble pillar.

“I’m not here to fight!” he called out, laughing. “Okay, maybe just a little!”

He countered with a spinning strike, but she deflected with a twist of her wrist. Sparks burst as their blades clashed. With a growl, she spun and knocked him backward with a glowing wing sweep.

“You’ll never touch this stone,” she said coldly, raising her blade high.

But just as she was about to strike—

Thwip!

A sudden arrow whistled through the air, splitting the silence—and struck her sword with perfect precision. It snapped from her grip, shattered into fragments of light, and reverted back into the simple pendant.

It clattered to the grass at her feet.

Sushie froze. Her eyes widened.

“What the—?!”

A second shadow stepped from the trees, bow in hand, cloaked in indigo.

“Didn’t anyone teach you not to fight with your heart wide open?” said the archer coolly.

Sushie’s gaze darted between the two enemies now surrounding her—Arnoux smirking on one side, and the mystery archer on the other.

Despite her pain and the odds, she bent down slowly and picked up the stone, curling her fingers around it.

Then, without a word, her eyes flared again.

“You want a real fight?” she whispered.

The wind around her exploded outward as the ground cracked beneath her feet.

“Then come and try me.”

The arrow struck the sword, and in an instant, it reverted to its dormant form—a shimmering stone, its once radiant glow dimming with each breath of time. Sushie’s eyes widened as the brilliance flickered like a dying star. She narrowed her eyes. That energy… it doesn’t feel like it’s from Ornaphendreul’s Dark Castle.

Then the blast came.

A powerful bolt erupted from the arrow’s impact, sending a shockwave that hurled Sushie away from the stone. Her body crashed against the hard ground, skidding across the earth. Pain exploded in her limbs—her shoulder was dislocated, her side bleeding, her senses spinning. Maimed and barely conscious, she reached a trembling hand toward the stone, crawling forward despite the searing pain.

But she wasn’t alone.

A figure emerged—graceful and silent. The girl in the white mask stepped between her and the stone. The artifact reacted immediately, pulsing with a fierce light that froze the masked girl in place.

"You won’t be able to touch it," Sushie rasped through bloodied lips. "Anyone with a strong desire to possess its power… will be rejected."

The masked girl tilted her head and gave a cold, amused smile. She stood and raised her hand skyward. The clouds turned black. Thunder rumbled as crackling energy sparked above.

Then it struck.

A bolt of magical force lashed down, hitting Sushie squarely in the chest. She screamed, her body convulsing, her vision dimming. The sensation wasn't just pain—it was as if her soul was being ripped from her.

It’s like… she’s seizing my spirit, she thought, struggling to keep her grip on reality.

Her strength waned, but instinct drove her. Her fingers brushed the stone. A final surge of willpower pulsed through her veins. The artifact responded—glowing brighter—returning to its sword form in her hand.

With a cry, she slashed at the masked girl.

The blade grazed her neck, just beneath the mask. Blood trickled, but the girl barely flinched. Instead, she retaliated. A gust of wind erupted behind Sushie—no, a vortex. A swirling portal formed, sucking everything in. Sushie tried to resist, but her wounded body was no match.

The whirlpool engulfed her, and then it vanished.

Arnoux, who had been observing from a distance, stepped forward. “Where did that whirlpool take her?” he asked, his voice hard and cold.

“To a different dimension,” the girl answered smoothly. “One where the stone’s power is nullified… and can be taken without resistance.”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? Where exactly?”

“You don’t need to know,” she said, then unfurled a pair of black wings. She took to the sky like a shadow, vanishing into the storm.

“Impudent traitor!” Arnoux growled. “Enjoy being Ornaphendreul’s pawn… you’ll be discarded like the rest.”

Mortal World…

Sushie groaned softly as her eyes fluttered open. The air was cold, the light foreign. She blinked against the brightness, her body aching all over. She sat up slowly, wincing.

Where was she?

She was beside a small bridge, its rails rusted and ancient. The ground was unfamiliar—too solid, too mundane. Strange glowing boxes moved back and forth on a smooth black road nearby. Their round legs—four of them—spun endlessly.

“Everything here… it’s all so foreign,” she whispered. “What is this world?”

She clutched the stone—but it remained dormant. Her power didn’t respond. Her elf ears were fading, reshaping into human ones. Her wings—gone.

That masked girl… what had she done?

“I’m weakening…” she murmured. Her body trembled. Fear and despair washed over her. “She’s after the stone. I need to protect it… but in this form…”

Across the bridge, an elderly woman stumbled and slowly sat down. Sushie crouched in the shadows, watching. The old woman clutched her chest, and then… she went still.

Two humans rushed over, checking on her. Their voices rose with panic. One knelt beside her; another called for help. A third person came, and together they lifted her away.

Sushie observed silently, hiding behind the bridge’s pillar.

Hours passed. The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the world in amber and indigo. Then she saw her—a girl, perhaps in her teens, chasing a firefly along the path. Laughter echoed.

Sushie smiled faintly. “Only a pure heart can hold the stone… maybe…”

Dark Castle…

"Ornaphendreul," the girl called, entering the obsidian throne chamber.

The shadowy figure turned, crimson eyes gleaming. "Is it done?"

“Yes. She’s in the other world. Weak, confused. The stone will soon yield.” The girl bowed. “As promised, I’ll retrieve it. In the meantime, I ask you to cover for my absence in Eri Kingdom.”

“I’ll handle it,” he said. “But remember—if the others discover your betrayal, they’ll hunt you down.”

“I don’t care,” she said defiantly. “I never belonged there. I deserve power. The Queen is a fool. She follows her advisors like a puppet. She doesn’t deserve the throne.”

Ornaphendreul chuckled. “Very well. Make sure you return. With the stone.”

Back in the Mortal World…

Sushie wandered aimlessly, her steps unsure. The air felt thick, her limbs heavy. Lights approached quickly.

A roar.

A sudden blow struck her from behind. Pain lanced through her as she collapsed.

Inside the car, Romelyne screamed. “Aimee! I told you to slow down! What did you hit?!”

“I—I don’t know,” Aimee said, pale. “Did I hit… someone?”

The two scrambled out and found Sushie lying unconscious.

“It’s a girl!” Romelyne gasped, checking her breathing. “She’s alive. We need to get her help.”

“Let’s bring her to the hospital,” Aimee said, helping lift her.

Sushie stayed limp, pretending to be unconscious. Yes… take me away. I need time… time to regain strength… before they arrive.

Later at the Hospital…

“How is she?” Aimee asked, stepping into the room.

Romelyne looked up. “Still asleep. The doctors said she’s fine. Just some scratches and shock.”

Aimee approached the bed, studying the girl. “Don’t you think something’s strange?”

“What do you mean?” Romelyne asked.

“Her clothes,” Aimee said. “They’re laced with real diamonds. And look at this bracelet—those gems are authentic.”

“Wait, how do you know?”

Aimee gave a sly grin. “My dad deals in precious stones. I’ve seen enough to know.”

Romelyne blinked. “So… what do we do?”

“Nothing… yet. It’s not safe out there for her. We’ll keep her here. At least for now,” Aimee said gently.

Romelyne nodded. “Of course. I trust you.”

The two girls smiled at each other—unaware of the storm that was about to enter their lives.