The air was thick with magic.

  Not the gentle arcane of Mirgeth.

  Not the pure light of the Phinixes.

  But something darker.

  Something untamed.

  Something dangerous.

  Fiesa sat on a rock in the open field, the Book of Shrishgic spread before her.

  Dark black and purple energy coiled around her like a living entity.

  Whispers of forgotten spells echoed in the air as she chanted.

  Long. Steady. Commanding.

  She was reshaping reality.

  "Tashiv koren mirthas vek'noa…"

  The air shimmered.

  The grass faded.

  The sky brightened.

  A calm, endless ocean appeared.

  Gentle waves rolled over pristine white sand.

  The air smelled of salt and water.

  It looked exactly like Nathro.

  It felt like Nathro.

  And for a moment—

  It was.

  Then—

  With a slow wave of Fiesa’s hand,

  The illusion dissolved.

  The ocean vanished.

  The air grew thick again.

  And they were back.

  Back in the open grasslands of Mirgeth.

  Back to reality.

  Elysia stood nearby, watching.

  Waiting.

  She was not in control yet.

  Not until Fiesa allowed it.

  "Whoa! That was so real. It was like we were actually in Nathro for a while."

  Fiesa didn’t respond.

  She remained silent.

  Focused.

  Distant.

  Elysia sighed.

  She walked over and sat beside her on the rock.

  She looked at her other self.

  The cold. The silent. The unforgiving.

  But the one thing that never changed—

  Fiesa cared about her.

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  "Come on. Say something. You haven’t talked much to me since we escaped."

  Fiesa didn’t even glance at her.

  "Let me do this."

  Elysia leaned closer.

  Her expression softened.

  Her voice lowered.

  "Is this really you? Because back in my room, it was you who begged me not to stop talking to you."

  Fiesa closed the book.

  But she didn’t look up.

  "I only mean to protect you."

  Elysia sighed loudly.

  She leaned back on her hands, staring at the sky.

  "Yeah, yeah, you did that. THANK YOU. But now, I want my control back."

  Fiesa didn’t move.

  Didn’t answer.

  Just exhaled slowly.

  "Not until I finish learning how to craft my own spell."

  Elysia turned to her sharply.

  Her eyes narrowed.

  "Hey! You promised me that you wouldn’t take control unless I asked you to!"

  Fiesa sighed.

  For the first time, she looked at Elysia.

  Her expression was unreadable.

  But her voice softened.

  "Look… I care about you.

  And right now, we are fugitives.

  I can’t risk you… until I make sure you’re safe."

  Elysia looked away for a moment.

  Letting those words sink in.

  Then—

  She exhaled sharply.

  "I am safe.

  Who in the realms is going to find us here?"

  Fiesa watched her carefully.

  Then—

  She gave in.

  "Okay. Fine.

  But the moment—"

  "Yeah, yeah, okay. Now take the back seat."

  And with that—

  The dark, hooded, cold form of Fiesa

  Shifted.

  The thick purple tunic dissolved.

  The sharp gaze softened.

  The aura of darkness faded.

  And sitting there now—

  Was Elysia.

  Bright.

  Free.

  Herself.

  She inhaled deeply, stretching her arms.

  "Much better."

  "Now walk. We gotta go."

  "Not fair! You could’ve looked up a spell that could teleport us."

  "There’s no such spell."

  "Fine. I’m walking."

  And with that—

  The two of them moved forward.

  Through the grasslands.

  Through exile.

  Through a world that no longer welcomed them.

  And even though Elysia had her body back—

  She could still feel Fiesa with her.

  Always.

  Elysia sat on a rocky ledge overlooking the familiar sight of her mand.

  Dohi Mand.

  Her home.

  The place where she grew up.

  Where her childhood began.

  Where her mother still lived.

  But now—

  She was not the same Elysia who had left.

  Now, she was a fugitive.

  Now, she was feared.

  And she didn’t know if her mother would still accept her.

  Fiesa sat beside her, arms crossed, gaze sharp.

  "What if she saw the news?"

  Fiesa didn’t hesitate.

  She always knew what to say.

  "She would accept us."

  Elysia let out a humorless laugh.

  "You mean she’d accept me. It was you who did all this."

  Fiesa didn’t argue.

  Didn’t deny it.

  She simply nodded.

  "I know. I accept that."

  Elysia buried her face in her hands.

  Tired.

  Lost.

  Afraid.

  "We have to at least try."

  Elysia exhaled.

  She knew.

  She knew they had nowhere else to go.

  No one else to turn to.

  "That’s all we’ve got right now."

  And so—

  She stood.

  Walked toward the home she once knew.

  And knocked.

  The door creaked open.

  Aiaris stood there.

  Elysia had imagined a hundred reactions.

  Would she be angry?

  Would she be afraid?

  Would she slam the door?

  But instead—

  Aiaris smiled.

  Just a little.

  And then—

  She let her in.

  The door closed behind them.

  And for the first time in weeks—

  Elysia was home.