Elara blinked against the soft glow above her. Pale violet leaves shimmered in a gentle breeze, casting dancing shadows over her skin. The sky was wrong—far too vast, far too alive. Two moons hovered overhead: one silver, pockmarked and familiar, the other bluish, crystalline, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.
She sat up slowly, her head pounding. The air tasted of ozone and something sweeter—jasmine, maybe, or mint. Her fingers curled around soft moss, damp and warm beneath her palms. Around her, the trees whispered in an unfamiliar tongue.
This wasn't Earth.
She staggered to her feet, wobbling slightly. Her university clothes were still on: jeans, a navy hoodie with a faded observatory logo, hiking boots. Her phone was dead. No bars. No signal. No hope of Googling "how to escape magical forest dimension."
A rustle snapped her attention to the left. Her heart seized. "Hello?"
The brush parted. Out stepped… something humanoid. A man, tall and cloaked in shadow and moonlight, his eyes catching the starlight like mirrors. His hair was the color of midnight, long and tied with silver cord, and his armor gleamed like obsidian dipped in frost.
He drew a blade without speaking.
"Okay, okay," Elara said, raising her hands. "Let's not do the whole sword thing. I'm just as confused as you are."
The man narrowed his eyes. "Name."
"Elara. Elara Thorne. I think I'm—well—lost."
His voice was deep, clipped. "No star-born crosses here by accident."
"I'm not—what does that mean?"
The man stepped closer. "You fell with the meteors. From the rift. You reek of celestial magic."
"I don't even know what celestial magic is!" she snapped. "I'm a student. From a planet called Earth. I study stars—I don't fall out of them!"
He studied her for a moment longer, then sheathed his sword. "Come with me. You'll be dead by nightfall if you don't."
Elara weighed her options—none—and followed.
The forest grew stranger as they walked. Bioluminescent vines coiled around ancient trunks. Petal-like creatures flitted between branches, chirping lullabies. The man moved quickly but with a grace that made Elara feel loud and clumsy in comparison.
"Where are we?" she asked.
"Caerth Solas. The twilight vale."
"I meant... the world."
He glanced at her. "This realm is called Aetheros."
Aetheros. She rolled the name over in her mind. Beautiful. Lethal.
"And you are?" she asked, trying to sound braver than she felt.
"Cassian."
"Just Cassian?"
He smirked faintly. "Prince Cassian Duskmoor, heir to the House of Stars."
Elara stopped walking. "You're a prince?"
He kept walking. "It means little these days."
She jogged to catch up. "So... you think I'm some kind of cosmic trespasser?"
"You crossed the Veil. That's no small accident."
"Well, I didn't mean to! I was just watching the Perseids!"
"The what?"
"Elara," she said flatly, "if I have to explain constellations to a fantasy prince with a sword, I swear—"
"Keep your voice down," he said, sharply. "There are worse things than princes in this forest."
Something howled in the distance. Not a wolf—too deep, too guttural. Elara shivered.
They reached a clearing where giant stones stood in a circle, glowing faintly. Cassian placed his palm on one. The ground trembled. A shimmer passed over the air like heat rippling from pavement, and a door of light opened in the trunk of a hollowed tree.
"Portal magic," he said simply.
"Of course it is," Elara muttered.
Inside, the world shifted again. The tree's heart was a spiral staircase lined with light crystals. They descended into a circular chamber carved of root and stone, with maps of stars etched into the walls.
Cassian handed her a cloak. "You'll need this. The Vale grows colder at dusk."
Elara wrapped it around herself, inhaling the scent—cedar and something ancient. "So what now? Are you taking me to some kind of wizard council?"
Cassian looked grim. "I'm taking you to the Seers. If what you say is true, you may be the Fulcrum."
She blinked. "The what now?"
"The balance-point between light and shadow. The one prophesied to awaken the Old Pact."
"Oh, come on," she said, half-laughing. "You're joking, right? That's way too much pressure for someone who failed college calculus twice."
Cassian didn't smile.
They rode through the Vale on creatures that resembled deer with antlers of starlight. As the forest gave way to hills, Elara saw the sky clearer—constellations she didn't recognize danced above, shifting slowly. It felt alive, sentient, watching.
They passed silent ruins, statues half-buried in moss, crumbling towers that echoed with forgotten chants. Elara asked questions; Cassian answered few.
He seemed lost in thought, eyes flicking upward too often.
"What is it?" she asked finally.
Cassian's jaw tensed. "There are forces in this world who'll sense your arrival. Not all will welcome you."
"Great," she muttered. "I'm cosmic bait."
He looked at her then, truly looked. "You don't know what you carry inside you, do you?"
"I told you. I'm no chosen one. I don't even believe in fate."
He said nothing for a while. Then, softly: "Fate believes in you."
By nightfall, they reached a temple carved into the side of a cliff. The stars above burned blue, close enough to touch. Statues of winged beings lined the path—guardians of the Seers, Cassian explained.
A woman in robes of shifting starlight met them at the gate. Her eyes were blindfolded, yet she moved with purpose.
"You bring her," she said without preamble.
"She crossed the Veil," Cassian replied.
"She is veiled herself," the woman said, voice echoing oddly. "The stars are unreadable around her."
Elara stepped forward. "Hi. Sorry for the confusion, but if you could just help me get back to my world, that'd be—"
The woman touched Elara's forehead. A ripple of energy surged through her. She gasped. Visions flickered—moons breaking, fire raining, a crown of light shattering.
She stumbled back. "What the hell was that?"
The Seer's voice was quiet. "A glimpse of what sleeps inside you."
Cassian looked at her, not with suspicion now—but with awe. And fear.
Elara clutched the cloak tighter. Her world had tilted again, impossibly.
"What am I?" she whispered.
The Seer answered, voice like wind through galaxies.
"The last light before the dark."