Arturo took a deep breath before entering Ana Soler's room.

It had been a few days since their last session and since that strange and transformative experience.

Ana sat in her usual chair, her countenance serene and attentive, radiating the same welcoming energy that Arturo remembered.

She gestured for him to take a seat.

"Arturo, welcome back," she said with an empathetic smile. "How have you been?"

He settled back into the chair, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. Recent experiences had left him with a strange sense of purpose. "I've been fine... better than last time, I'd say," he began, looking into her eyes. "I've had a dream, Ana."

The old woman smiled more strongly, interested.

"Tell me about it."

Bluntly, Arturo explained what he had had a dream about. The princess, the proposed meeting, the weight of the words that still echoed in his mind. As he spoke, Ana listened in silence, his expressions soft but clearly thoughtful.

When he finished, Arturo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his voice firmer than she expected.

"I'm ready to continue with the story, Ana. I need to."

Ana closed the notebook carefully, as if the sound might upset the fragile balance of the conversation. She didn't respond immediately. Instead, she studied Arturo with a gaze that seemed to pierce through him, as if she were searching for something deeper, beyond his words.

Finally, she spoke, her tone low and calm, but laden with meaning.

"Arturo, every step you take in this story drags you further from reality. I can't help but wonder if you're looking for something in Enchantia that you can't find here."

Arturo didn't look away, his hands tense on his knees.

"Maybe I am," he replied after a pause, "but I can't ignore what I feel. This... this is more than a story, Ana. It's something I need to finish."

Ana sighed, closing her eyes for a moment before nodding slowly. She knew she couldn't stop him, not even with her growing concern. "If that's what you truly wish, then let's continue. But I want you to remember something, Arthur. The worlds we create come at a cost. If you go too far, you might find something you didn't expect... or you might not be able to return."

Arturo nodded, grateful that she was willing to continue, and closed his eyes. Ana motioned for him to settle into his seat, lit a nearby candle, and placed her hands over Arturo's.

The visualization process began again, the dim light in the room blurring and the real world disappearing. Arturo felt his mind being drawn into the depths of Enchantia once more, the forest air filling his lungs, the cold ground beneath his feet.

When he opened his eyes, a crash cut the session short.

The door swung open and Eva, tense-faced and pale, quickly entered the room followed by her father Jacinto and two municipal police officers.

Arturo stood up, confused, his heart beginning to beat faster.

Eva looked visibly upset, her gaze fixed on him. The police officers stood at the entrance, watching the scene, but said nothing, expectant.

"He has it!" she exclaimed, pointing at Arturo with a trembling finger. "That necklace is mine, and he stole it from me!"

Arturo couldn't believe what he was hearing.

He opened his mouth to defend himself, but the words wouldn't come out. He looked at the necklace hanging around his neck, the gift Eva had given him. A simple necklace, but full of meaning, something that seemed to transcend the moment.

Jacinto looked at his daughter, perplexed. His face, normally so serene, was full of disbelief.

"Eva, what are you saying?" he asked in a slightly surprised voice.

Eva spoke firmly. "That key was Mom's, I inherited it from her! It's very valuable, and he's wearing it without even explaining how he got it. I told you he wasn't trustworthy... Do you still want him to sleep in my bed?" her voice broke at the end, as if everything she was saying was more of a cry of frustration than a logical accusation.

Arturo, not fully understanding what was happening, unconsciously touched his necklace, looking at those present.

The police exchanged glances and then the writer, confused and now more concerned about the accusation than his own defense, looked at Eva.

"Eva, I..." his voice faltered. "What is happening here? You gave me this key, remember? I carry it as a memory, as a bond. You yourself told me that the distance did not matter".

She looked at him with disgust, her hands shaking nervously.

Ana Soler stood up quickly as she could, observing the scene with growing discomfort. She moved forward to intercede, but the police finally spoke up.

"Could you join us for a moment, please?" said one of them, his tone neutral but with a hint of firmness.

Arturo, still in shock at what was happening, nodded. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he just followed them.

"This is a misunderstanding, really..." he muttered, trying to calm the situation while the policeman gestured for him to offer him the necklace and accompany him.

They both took positions and began to walk with him, without saying another word, while Eva, Jacinto and Ana watched them from a distance, completely silent.

When they reached the car, he had no choice but to get in. One of the officers sat as co-pilot, while the other started the vehicle. In silence, the journey lengthened, passing through the streets of the town, until reaching the outskirts of the same.

The car moved slowly along the roads of Campo de Borja. Despite it being almost noon, the light had barely begun to illuminate the vineyards and olive groves that stretched out on both sides of the road. Arturo was in the back seat, his mind spinning over what had happened. The necklace Eva had given him rested on top of the glove compartment of the car, cold but eerily bright, as if something inside it was alive.

Arturo sat in the backseat, staring out the window without really seeing anything. The discussion had been quick, surprising. That necklace, that damn necklace, had been the cause of everything. In his hands, it seemed harmless, a simple piece of jewelry, but now, it seemed, it had become something much bigger. A key.

A key to what?

The policemen were silent, their presence menacing and cold. Arturo looked straight ahead.

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It had been a mistake. He hadn't stolen anything.

A small gust of wind came through the car window, brushing his face. He could feel the heaviness in the air, he was about to be interrogated, perhaps even imprisoned for something he didn't even understand.

The patrol car turned a corner, moving away from the residential areas of Borja—where the nearest police station was located—and into the center of the town. The police continued their route with an eerie serenity, as if it were just another case.

Suddenly, the car door opened with a loud creak, and one of the policemen, the taller of the two, signaled him to get out. He had no choice. He got out of his seat, forced to follow his destiny, although his body resisted.

"Come on, let's walk," the policeman said curtly.

Arturo walked among them, his eyes fixed on the ground, not daring to look at them. When they reached the doors of the gray stone building, surrounded by a high fence that seemed isolated from the rest of the town, he was pushed into the cell without saying a word.

The metal doors slammed shut, and the bars closed between him and the outside world. The dim light in the cell illuminated his pale face, reflecting the confusion and pain he felt at that moment. Standing in the middle of the room, he tried to process what had just happened. Eva, the collar, the arrest... everything seemed like something out of a strange dream, but he was there, in a dark place, waiting for answers that weren't coming.

One of the police officers approached, his eyes empty of emotion, and said in an impersonal tone:

"Wait a moment. We're going to bring someone".

Arturo didn't say anything. He just sat on the cell bench, his hands clasped together, head down, lost in his thoughts. He knew something bigger was brewing, something far beyond his immediate understanding.

Minutes later, the cell door opened again, this time more forcefully. Arturo looked up, and when he saw her enter, the world seemed to stop. It was her. There was no doubt.

Maria.

But this was not the Maria he knew. The woman walking towards him was dressed in royal robes, an outfit that reflected power and authority. Her upright posture and cold gaze were those of a crown princess, not the little girl who used to laugh with him in his room, making up stories of far-off worlds.

The Maria Arturo saw now was not his sister. She was a stranger.

"Arturo Duarte," Maria said in a cold, calculated voice, as if she were not facing her own brother, but a stranger. "I am sorry for the confusion. The letter you received was not completely honest."

Arturo watched her intently, searching her face for any trace of the girl he remembered. His eyes scanned every detail: the way she held her head up, the way the shadows played across her face... But he found nothing familiar.

Without thinking, he jumped up, his desperation spilling over. He took a step toward the bars that separated them, his hands tightening around the cold metal as he spoke.

"Maria! It's you!" His voice trembled, laden with a mix of disbelief and pleading. "Do you remember when we were children? The stories we made up together! The castle of stars, the adventures we dreamed of!"

But Maria didn't react. She looked at him as if she were listening to a stranger tell stories that didn't concern her. His eyes, normally warm in her memories, were now empty pools of emotion, filled with distance and coldness.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied, her tone firm and dispassionate, as if it had been rehearsed a thousand times. "I'm here for this damn key."

She raised her hand, and Arturo saw the necklace she had worn for so long.

"No!" he exclaimed, pounding the bars with his clenched fists. "The Maria I know is not a coward! She would not hide behind titles or face an unarmed man as an act of power. The Maria I know would fight for what is right, not what others tell her to do!"

For an instant, something in her gaze changed. Arturo's words seemed to pierce the armor that protected her. Maria averted her eyes, as if in doubt, but the shadow of her duty fell upon her again. With an elegant but weighty gesture, she raised a hand.

One of the guards stepped forward, placing a gleaming sword in her hands. Maria stepped up to the bars, her figure firm as a statue, and held out her sword to Arthur.

"If you truly believe what you say," she said, her voice now full of defiance, "prove it. Take this sword and fight. Fight for what you stand for. Fight for what you say I am."

Arturo stood still, shocked by the turn of events. He looked at the sword, then at Maria. For a moment, he couldn't move, the weight of the situation falling on his shoulders. But then something inside him changed.

He reached out and took the sword. It was heavy, cold to the touch, and at first his fingers trembled as he held it.

Maria stepped back, drawing her own sword in one fluid motion. She stood on guard, her gaze fixed on Arthur, her expression impenetrable.

The guards moved forward to open the bars. The screech of shifting metal echoed through the cell, and Maria crossed the threshold with firm steps, the sword still in her hand, and her eyes fixed on Arturo.

There was something implacable in her gaze, as if she had erased any personal connection that might have existed between them.

Arturo raised his head, holding his own sword awkwardly, and swallowed. His heart was pounding, and every fiber of his being screamed that he must stop this before it was too late.

Maria moved with perfect posture, the reflection of years of training. Arthur, on the other hand, could barely hold the sword steady, and his every movement was clumsy and unsure. Maria was the first to strike, a quick, precise blow that Arturo blocked just in time.

The impact resonated in his arms, forcing him back. But Arturo didn't stop looking at her. He just couldn't stop looking at her.

"Maria, listen to me," he gasped as he deflected another attack, his voice filled with desperation. "You are not this! You are not a tool of the Separatist kings!"

She didn't respond. Her sword moved with deadly precision, forcing him back again and again. But Arthur, despite his clumsiness, refused to fall.

"Do you remember who you were?" he shouted as he attempted a clumsy counterattack that Maria effortlessly deflected. "You were the girl who dreamed of being a heroine! The one who told me that one day I would save the world!"

For a brief moment, Maria's sword wavered. Arthur took advantage of the pause to take a step forward, his words coming out with renewed strength.

"You were always the brave one, Maria! You were always the light that made me believe in the impossible! You weren't a princess in a tower. You were the heroine of our stories, the one who led armies and united kingdoms." That's you, not what they want you to be!

Maria stopped her next attack, her sword trembling slightly in the air. Her eyes, which until now had been cold and empty, showed a spark of doubt, as if Arthur's words had managed to pierce through her armor.

"Heroine?" she murmured, almost to herself.

Arthur nodded, his hands still firm on the hilt of his sword, though his arms shook with the effort.

"Yes, heroine. A real one. The one who fights for what is right, even when it is difficult. The one who faces the impossible because she knows it is worth it."

Maria lowered her sword slightly, her eyes now flickering between Arthur and the ground. For the first time, she seemed to be fighting not against him, but against herself.

"I don't know if I can be that," she finally said, her voice barely a whisper.

Arturo dropped his sword to the ground with a thud that echoed through the cell. He took a step toward Maria, raising his hands in surrender.

"You don't have to do it alone. But you must decide who you want to be. Are you going to remain the obedient daughter of the kings who destroyed Enchantia? Or are you going to be the queen who can save it?"

Arturo's words hung in the air, heavy and meaningful. Maria closed her eyes, her breathing quickening. When she opened them again, something had changed

With a slow movement, she dropped her sword. The sound of the metal hitting the ground was like an echo that marked the end of their fight.

Arturo, his chest still heaving from the effort, stared at Maria without looking away, unable to believe what he had just seen.

Maria took a deep breath, her hands still tense as if they were still holding the sword, but her gaze was no longer empty. It was filled with something new now: a hint of doubt mixed with a spark of resolve.

"If you truly believe I am the heroine of this tale," she said, her voice low but firm, "if you truly believe I can be the queen Lyra needs... then prove it to me."

Arturo looked at her, not quite understanding at first.

"Take me to them," Maria continued, taking a step toward him. "Take me to the Twilights. To your people. Let me see them with my own eyes."

Arturo felt a lump form in his throat. The thought of taking Maria, the crown princess of Solaris and Nocturnia, straight to the Twilights' lair was dangerous. He knew they wouldn't trust her. Probably wouldn't even accept her.

But he also knew he couldn't refuse.

"They don't trust you," she said finally, her voice heavy with warning. "If they see you as a threat, they won't hesitate to act."

Maria raised her head, her eyes meeting Arthur's with unwavering determination.

"Then I will have to prove them wrong," she said, her tone as sure as an oath. "I will not be a queen of words, Arthur. If I am Lyra's queen, it will be because they believe it too."

Maria handed him Lyra's key.

"Take me to them," she repeated, her tone leaving no room for doubt.

Arturo took a deep breath, lowering his head for a moment before looking directly at her.

"Okay," he finally said. "But this will not be easy."

Maria smiled, a small smile, almost imperceptible, but full of a quiet strength.

"I never thought it would be."

Together, they left the cell, leaving behind the abandoned swords on the floor. The guards, confused, watched them pass, not daring to intervene.

As they crossed the halls of the building, Arturo felt that something had changed between them. For the first time in years, there was a real, if fragile, connection between them. And although the decision to go to the Twilights' lair was full of uncertainty and danger, Arturo couldn't help but feel a spark of hope.