“ Like what?”
“Well, first, demons exist, magic exists and non-humans that look like humans exist.”
Nalaka hums thoughtfully, a knowing look in her eyes before she adds, "So, you’re scared."
"No.” I bite back, maybe a little too quickly, as a flush creeps up my neck. "I’m not scared. I’m just... surprised and confused. That’s it. They don’t exactly teach this stuff in schools. The only place I’ve ever read about monsters or mythical creatures is in books."
"Sorry, I didn’t mean to be insensitive," Nalaka says quickly, her smile softening her features. At that moment, the fierce soldier disappears.
"So, you're an elf?" She nods, and the next question slips out, "…And what exactly is Kai?"
“If he didn’t tell you, it’s not my place to say,” Nalaka replies thoughtfully, her expression distant as she weighs her words.
"Fair enough," I murmur, curiosity still burning.
“Anything else I can answer?”
“How can you open the portals?”
Nalaka eyes me skeptically, clearly debating whether to share that knowledge or to be cautious. "Only beings of that specific world can open its portal, as the key resides in their life essence. You'll have to mark the door with your blood," she explains it slowly, as if I were a child. Which I guess I am not far from in her eyes, clueless to everything that seems evident.
But I can't stop the questions from flooding my mind. How did they get attacked during the Bloodmoon War?
How did the demons break through?
And, more troubling, how did they get into my world in the first place if that’s the price to pass through?
The interiorof the Institute is nothing short of awe-striking. The walls stretch so high, the ceiling seems to vanish into darkness, giving the illusion of infinity.
Despite its vastness, the space maintains a gothic elegance, cloaked in mystery. Imposing stone walls are etched with intricate runes that glimmer faintly in the torchlight. Tall, arched windows offer fleeting glimpses of the outside, where soft light filters through, casting long, haunting shadows across the pristine white marble floor, heightening the ethereal atmosphere.
Contrary to what you’d expect, the Institute isn’t exactly buzzing with life. It’s quiet, eerily so. After only a few steps, we stop in front of a set of tall, black double doors. Stepping into the room, my eyes are immediately drawn to the long table stretched across the space. A row of figures sits stiffly on the far side, their gazes locked on me as I make my way in.
Oh, good, a welcoming committee.
How… not intimidating at all.
"Miss Rey, thank you for being here. We're sorry for what you've endured, but you can take comfort in knowing that your father is stable." The voice belongs to none other than Isolde. She sounds like she just stepped out of a course on how to control a crisis; warm, composed, maybe even genuine. The perfect soldier for damage control.
I cut straight to it. “When can I see my dad?” There’s a beat of silence, and then a new voice answers. Male, smooth, and entirely too practiced.
“That will depend.”
Of course it will, my gaze shifts to the man who spoke. In his mid-forties, maybe, he sits tall in a crisp black general’s uniform. Every button in place adorned by some important medals, as if he were born for a rulebook. His expression is carved from stone, offering nothing. No empathy, no irritation, no trace ofanything resembling human warmth. Clearly, he doesn’t need emotion; he has authority. The kind that commands fear, you can feel it in the air.
“Depends on what?” I bite back, the annoyance in my voice deliberate. I’m not here to fulfill someone’s agenda.
“If you wish to see your dad,” the man adds, tone dry and all too pleased with himself, “you’ll have to stay here and enroll in the Legion. But if you wish to leave, you’ll need to do so now, though your father will only be returned to youif, or when, he wakes up.” He says it like he’s offering me a choice. As if the smug twist in his voice doesn’t make my hands clench at my sides. I have to fight the urge to lunge across the table and wipe the satisfaction smirk off his face.
“Why do you even want me to stay?” I force my voice to stay even as my pulse spikes. “I don’t know anything about your world.”
His response comes rehearsed like everything else. “We’re at war, Miss Rey. Our army is weakened, and we need to rebuild before the next attack. It’s rare to encounter someone with thesightwho also knows how to defend themselves. We can’t pass up this opportunity, even if thatsomeoneis you. I’m sure you understand.” His pale eyes gleam as he finishes, not worth his attention anymore. As if this is already a done deal.
I let the silence stretch just long enough to make a point.
Then, calmly, I say, “Fine. But only on one condition, I walk out when I want. No consequences, no chains, no clever little loopholes.” The general’s jaw tightens. His nostrils flare; it looks like I hit a nerve,good.
"Very well," he eventually concedes, after a tense silence, his tone contradicting his words.
