The doors groaned open, and for the first time, we stepped outside.

  I barely breathed.

  The first thing I noticed was the sky. It stretched endlessly above, a deep indigo expanse streaked with ribbons of violet and silver. Constellations dotted the heavens, unfamiliar and foreign. The longer I looked, the stars shifted like living patterns written across the heavens. The air itself was thick with magic, humming in my bones.

  A river cut through the land ahead, its waters glowing with soft, ethereal blue light, pulsing as if it carried liquid magic. Beyond it, rolling fields of strange flora stretched for miles, dotted with enormous trees whose branches shimmered with golden leaves. In the distance, floating islands drifted lazily across the horizon, waterfalls spilling from their edges only to disappear into nothingness before reaching the ground.

  I exhaled, my breath catching in my throat. We weren’t on Earth anymore.

  No one spoke.

  This was the world we were supposed to save. Yet, standing here now, I had no sense of its borders, no understanding of what that even meant.

  Hyacinth was the first to break the silence, whispering, “We were in a temple this whole time…”

  It was obvious, but hearing it out loud made it real. “This is . . . “ Gabrielle's voice trailed off.

  There was no word for it.

  We had been in Mysteria for a mere day now. Before now, we had only known stone corridors and glowing halls—the Plane of Consciousness, the Speaker’s Chamber, the tunnel where we had barely escaped with our lives. But this? This was something else entirely.

  And we had no idea what waited beyond the horizon.

  Zeke let out a low whistle. “I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this.”

  Pierre folded his arms. “Floating islands. Magic rivers. Talking animals.” He glanced at the bear brothers standing nearby. “No offense.”

  Kaldi snorted. “None taken.”

  Dero, his younger brother, grinned. “If anything, I should be offended that you don’t find me more impressive.”

  Pierre raised a brow. “You’re just a bear.”

  Dero gasped, pressing a paw to his chest. “Just a bear?” He turned to Kaldi. “Brother, did you hear that? He wounds me.”

  Kaldi rolled his eyes. “Ignore him. He’s always like this.”

  Dero only grinned wider. “I can be worse.”

  I thought that was cute. I thought that was something I would have said had I been Dero.

  Pierre shook his head, muttering something about melodramatic wildlife, but before he could continue, Kaldi cleared his throat.

  “All right, listen up.” Kaldi’s tone shifted, more serious now. “You already know us, so we’ll skip the introductions. What matters is that Dero and I will be guiding you to Andora’s camp. It’s a three-to-four-day journey, depending on how quickly we move.” He paused, as if remembering something and sighed. “And depending on how many unnecessary stops we make,” Kaldi added pointedly, shooting a look at his brother.

  Dero feigned innocence. “I would never delay a journey.”

  Kaldi ignored him. “You’re all still new to this world. Mysteria is full of wonder, but don’t let that distract you. This place isn’t safe. There are creatures here who would rip you apart if given the chance, and there are worse things than monsters in the wild.”

  A shadow passed over his expression.

  Gabrielle frowned. “Like what?”

  Kaldi hesitated. “You’ll understand soon enough.”

  That didn’t sit well with me, but I let it go for now.

  “Why aren’t Ishthar, Marik, or Iago coming with us?” Viktor asked, arms crossed.

  “They have other matters to attend to,” Kaldi replied. “Your fight with Marduk wasn’t just some minor skirmish. It had consequences. They’re handling the fallout.”

  Which meant whatever they were dealing with was too important to leave behind just to escort us. A reminder that even after all that had happened, we were still the least experienced ones here.

  Ishthar had given each of us a magical bag—an enchanted satchel that was far more spacious than it appeared. It was bigger on the inside, defying the laws of space like something out of Doctor Who’s TARDIS. No matter how much we packed into it, the bag never grew heavier, nor did it bulge beyond its usual size.

  Marik had stocked them with essentials: water skins that never ran dry, lightweight tents enchanted for quick assembly, and enough provisions to last several days. Alongside these were scrolls and grimoires—some detailing the history of Mysteria, others meant to guide us in unlocking the powers we had yet to master.

  “Then we better not slow you down,” Cassandra said, adjusting the strap of her sachel. “Let’s get moving.”

  Kaldi nodded. “Good. Stay close. Let’s go.”

  And with that, we began our journey.

  ——

  The first day passed without trouble.

  We traveled through open fields, the land shifting beneath us in ways that didn’t seem natural—hills that seemed lower in the afternoon than they were in the morning, paths that felt slightly different when we glanced away. Mysteria itself was alive, its magic woven into every inch of the world.

  As the sun dipped toward the horizon, Kaldi led us to a resting spot near a quiet river. It was safe, he assured us. No creatures hunted here.

  That night, we sat around a fire, listening as Dero spun stories about Mysteria’s past. He spoke of great wars fought in the sky, of cities that once floated above the clouds before falling to ruin. He told us about Andora, the enigmatic woman we were supposed to meet.

  “They say she’s the only one who understands the Woods of Silence,” Dero murmured, eyes gleaming in the firelight. “She’s lived on the border for decades, studying them. No one else dares to.”

  Hyacinth frowned. “What’s so terrifying about them?”

  Dero’s grin faded slightly. “You’ll see soon enough.”

  A chill settled over us after that.

  The second day was harder.

  The terrain grew rougher, the air heavier. We passed through what looked like the ruins of an old battlefield—broken weapons buried in the dirt, armor rusting beneath overgrown vines. No one spoke as we moved through it.

  Just before the sun was about to set, we reached the river Dero had been going on and on about. It was wide, its surface slow-moving, mist hovering above the water like frozen breath.

  “The Frozen River,” Dero said.

  “But it’s not actually frozen,” Zeke muttered.

  “No,” Dero said grimly. “It’s called that because once you step in, you never come back out.”

  A ripple broke the surface of the river. Then another.

  The waters swirled, darkening as something beneath began to rise. Slowly, a figure emerged—not stepping onto land, but lifted by the current itself. His lower body remained submerged, yet he hovered above the surface, unmoving, as if the river itself carried him.

  Then, the water churned.

  A column of liquid rose beneath him, twisting like a living thing. It spiraled upward, a vortex of churning torrents and shifting currents, forming a throne of undulating waves, whispering with an eerie hush. The river bowed to him, shaping itself to his will, wrapping around his form in a violent yet eerily controlled storm of liquid power.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  For a moment, it looked like a hurricane had been plucked from the sky and turned upon its side—a whirling pillar of water, spinning but never spilling, roaring but never overflowing. The surface of the river trembled as though in reverence, its mist curling toward him like wisps of breath drawn to a god.

  And then he spoke, his voice a rasping whisper that carried through the heavy air.

  “How strange,” he said, his voice layered and warbling, as if multiple voices spoke at once. “So young. So brave.”

  The words sloshed unnaturally, like they were bubbling up from deep water rather than formed by human tongues. Another figure parted its lips, but the voice came before the movement, a delayed echo in the air.

  “Trespassers,” he said, his black, abyss-like eyes locking onto us. “You dare cross our waters?”

  Kaldi growled low in his throat. “Ondari.”

  “Ondari?” Gabrielle repeated, eyes narrowing.

  “They’re waterfolk, but not the kind you’d want to meet,” Kaldi said, his voice dark with warning. “They belong to the rivers. Not the seas, not the lakes—just the rivers. Their domain is the flowing waters, and once you step into them, you are theirs.”

  Dero nodded. “They hunt in the currents. Dragging travelers down, filling their lungs with water before they even know they're drowning. And this tribe,” his voice hardened, “this tribe has chosen to ally with the Vharethi.”

  Gabrielle took a step forward, standing tall. “I am Queen of Waters. This river is mine to command.”

  Laughter. Cold, mocking, rippling through their ranks. More of them emerged, bodies still submerged in the river, with only their heads on the surface, their teeth flashing in the dimming light.

  The Ondari perched atop the swirling waters, effortless, unshaken. His body gleamed like polished obsidian, smooth yet lined with deep scars that cut across his skin like ancient battle marks. Webbed fingers flexed at his sides, the faintest flicker of movement sending ripples through the towering water beneath him.

  “You are queen of nothing here,” the leader sneered. “Your rule ends at the river’s edge. We do not bow to you.”

  Gabrielle’s hands clenched. The river surged at her command, the currents splitting apart, parting the waters like an open path.

  I wanted to cheer, “Yey, go Moses!” But I knew it wasn’t the right time.

  But as the water split, the Ondari lurched toward us—onto dry earth, their movements unhindered, as if the water loss meant nothing.

  Gabrielle’s breath caught.

  They didn’t need water.

  The realization struck as the Ondari grinned, their black eyes glinting with malice.

  “You think we are like the feeble merfolk of the oceans and the lakes?” the leader taunted. “We are not bound to the water. We walk as easily as we swim.” His lips pulled back too wide, revealing jagged teeth glistening in the moonlight. “We could break you apart,” he gurgled, the words wet and sloshing. “Drown you in yourselves.”

  Gabrielle’s jaw tightened. She let the river collapse back into place, her attempt to control the battlefield undone.

  The Ondari laughed again, their voices curling in the air like a slow-building storm.

  A rush of water. The sound of bodies moving. Taunts, threats, voices overlapping.

  Too loud.

  Too much.

  My fingers twitched. My breath came faster. My chest tightened.

  The noise. The movement. My senses screamed.

  Then—

  Silence.

  A deep, unnatural silence.

  Lightning split the sky.

  A massive bolt struck the river, sending shockwaves through the water. Several Ondari screamed as the current seized them, their bodies convulsing before they collapsed.

  I saw Gabrielle from the corner of my eye redirecting the water away from us. Protecting us from the electro-charged currents of the Frozen River.

  And then, the cold.

  It spread from my bones, from my breath.

  Frost spiderwebbed across the surface of the water. Then deeper. Then farther.

  The Frozen River actually froze—not just its surface, but all the way through. The mist turned to glittering frost in the air. The remaining Ondari stood trapped in ice, their bodies locked mid-movement, their black eyes wide in shock.

  Their leader struggled against the ice, but I met his gaze, my vision tinged with blue-white light.

  “Let us pass,” I said quietly. “Or I will end every last one of you.”

  The Ondari leader bared his needle-like teeth but did not challenge me. Slowly, his chin lifted, his voice quiet but venomous.

  “Go. But know this—we do not forget.”

  “Neither do I.” I took a step forward before my vision blurred. The cold in my veins turned to weakness, and the world tilted.

  Then—nothing.

  ——

  Cold.

  The moment I woke, I felt it. Not on my skin—but inside. Coiling through my ribs, sinking into my lungs. It was like ice had replaced my blood, and with every sluggish heartbeat, it spread further.

  I inhale sharply. White mist curls from my lips. My breath. It shouldn’t be visible, should it?

  What happened?

  My fingers twitch, numb but tingling, like they’ve been burning moments ago. But that doesn’t make sense. I don’t use fire. I don’t use anything.

  Then I remember—

  The lightning. The river. The Ondari screaming before everything froze solid.

  My stomach lurches. I barely register the sharp inhale that escapes me. That was . . . me?

  No. That can’t be right. That wasn’t—

  Sounds reached me first—the soft crackling of fire, the murmur of voices, the rustle of wind through grass. The smell of burning wood mixed with something warm and savory. My body ached, my limbs sluggish and unresponsive. Cold still clung to me, though a thick blanket had been draped over my shoulders.

  I blinked blearily. The night sky stretched above, the indigo expanse speckled with shifting constellations. I was lying on a bedroll, tucked between the fire and the towering form of Kaldi, who sat cross-legged nearby, watching the dark.

  Then, a familiar face leaned over me.

  “You’re awake!” Zeke’s voice was a mix of excitement and relief. He grinned, his light brown eyes practically glowing in the firelight. “Dude, you should’ve seen yourself back there. That was insane! Lightning straight from the sky, then boom—instant frozen river!” He clapped his hands together for emphasis. “You took out, like, half of them in one shot!”

  I groaned, trying to sit up. My body protested, a dull ache weighing me down.

  “Careful,” Zeke said quickly. “You’re still kinda out of it. That magic drained you bad. I had to carry you back, and let me tell you, Star, you are heavier than you look.”

  I blinked at him. “You . . . carried me?”

  “Yeah, for a while,” Zeke admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Then Kaldi offered to take over, and I wasn’t about to argue with a giant bear, so . . . “ He gestured vaguely. “But still! That was amazing. I mean, I knew you were the big magic guy, but I didn’t expect you to just—” He mimed an explosion with his hands.

  “Neither did I,” I muttered, my voice hoarse.

  I hadn’t meant to unleash that power. The noise, the movement—it had been too much, overwhelming my senses until something inside me just… snapped. The magic had acted on instinct.

  Before I could dwell on that, a movement at the edge of my vision caught my attention. Amethyst approached, carrying a small bowl between both hands, steam curling in the night air.

  “You should eat,” Amethyst said, kneeling beside me. In her hands was a bowl of steaming soup. The scent of herbs and something mildly sweet drifted toward me. She held it out. “Here.”

  I took it carefully, feeling the warmth seep into my fingers. “Thanks.”

  Amethyst nodded. “Hyacinth conjured it—the bowl and the spoon. The soup is real, don’t worry.” She gave a small, tired smile. “You did well back there.”

  I glanced down. Sure enough, the bowl shimmered faintly with residual magic. Even the spoon had an elegant design, its handle carved with swirling patterns. I huffed a quiet laugh. “Fancy.”

  Amethyst smirked. “She has standards.”

  Zeke snorted. “You should’ve seen her face when she realized we’d be eating with our hands if she didn’t.”

  I took a careful sip of the soup, the warmth spreading through me. My body felt marginally less drained, though exhaustion still lingered at the edges.

  Then, I heard them.

  Raised voices.

  I exhaled, trying to sit up, but my body protested. Zeke was quick to support me, steadying my shoulder.

  “Easy, man. You kinda froze an entire river. Maybe pace yourself.”

  Across the camp, tension simmered. Gabrielle and Viktor.

  “I’m just saying, we weren’t ready for this,” Gabrielle said sharply, pacing near the fire. “We’ve been here for what—two days? And already we’re in fights we don’t fully understand, against enemies we’ve never even heard of.” She gestured toward me. “Czak collapsed. What if next time it’s worse?”

  Viktor crossed his arms. “We can’t afford to think like that.”

  Gabrielle turned on him, her sapphire eyes flashing. “We can’t afford to ignore it either! We don’t know what we’re doing.”

  “We’re learning.”

  “Are we?” Gabrielle exhaled sharply, frustration clear in every movement. “We didn’t even know the Ondari could walk on land. We didn’t know the land shifts. We don’t know what’s coming next.”

  “We won,” Viktor countered. “That’s what matters.”

  Gabrielle let out a humorless laugh. “Did we? They let us go. That’s not the same as winning.”

  Viktor’s jaw tightened. “So what do you suggest? That we just stop?”

  Gabrielle hesitated. She didn’t have an answer for that.

  Andrew, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke. “We’re all feeling the weight of this,” he said, his voice measured, calm. “Gabrielle’s right—we were unprepared. Viktor’s right—we can’t stop moving forward. Both things can be true.”

  Gabrielle’s expression softened, but only slightly.

  “We need to find a balance,” Andrew continued. “Being cautious doesn’t mean being afraid. We need to be smart about this.” He glanced around at all of us. “And we need to trust each other.”

  A heavy silence settled over the group.

  Gabrielle exhaled, rubbing her temple. “I just . . . I don’t want any of us to die.”

  No one responded immediately. Because none of us could promise that wouldn’t happen.

  Finally, Viktor sighed. “Neither do I.”

  The fire crackled between us. The tension wasn’t gone, not entirely. But for now, it was enough.

  Zeke clapped his hands together. “Okay! Well. That was sufficiently heavy.” He forced a grin. “Anyone wanna hear a joke?”

  No one answered.

  Zeke groaned. “Tough crowd.”

  For the first time since waking, I managed a small smile.

  We weren’t all handling this the same way. Some of us were afraid. Some of us were stubborn. Some of us tried to push past it with humor. But in the end, we were still here.

  And tomorrow, we’d keep moving forward.