Paola and Ayla sat in their room at the Restful Haven, a cozy inn with sun-dappled windows and the soft murmur of the city outside. There was an air of nervous energy around them, an obvious tension that seemed to grow with each passing moment. Paola, her cloak wrapped tightly around her shoulders, stared blankly out the window. Her hood was pulled up, casting her face in shadow, her chin resting in her palm.
The previous day had been a brief respite, a fleeting moment of joy amidst the chaos that had become their lives. They had enjoyed a day together, free of the burdens that lay ahead, and a night that felt like a dream. But the dawn brought the harsh light of reality. Today, Ayla was to return to Lady Marcelline's side. The day had begun in silence, both of them moving through the motions, words left unspoken, the flame of their connection flickering, threatened by the winds of change.
Ayla's fingers twitched nervously as she sat across from Paola. She watched the other woman intently, her heart pounding. Finally, she couldn't bear the silence any longer.
"Paola," she began, her voice soft and hesitant. "There's something we need to talk about."
Paola didn't respond immediately, her gaze still fixed on the view outside. Ayla took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves.
"The Lady... Lady Marcelline, she may have connections. Connections that could allow you to be sent back home. To Earth."
Paola hummed a nod in response, a noncommittal sound that only increased Ayla's anxiety. She forged ahead, her voice trembling slightly.
"I... I need to tell you something, Paola. I, I do have feelings for you. Strong feelings. But... we're nearly strangers. We've been through so much in such a short time, but we barely know each other."
Paola finally turned her gaze from the window, her eyes meeting Ayla's. There was a deep understanding in her eyes, but also a profound uncertainty. She opened her mouth to speak, then hesitated, her thoughts a tumultuous storm.
What did she really have back home? She had never felt this kind of connection before. And if she went home, could she just pretend none of this had happened? Could she ignore the blood on her hands, the lives she had taken, the bonds she had formed?
Ayla nodded, as if sensing Paola's inner turmoil. She continued, her voice gentle and understanding. "It might take some time to find a mage powerful enough to send you home. But I wanted you to know that there's a way. You have a choice."
Paola had been particularly quiet, her thoughts churning. Ayla, sensing something was off, tried to bridge the silence, her words earnest and heartfelt.
"Even though we're strangers, I've enjoyed every moment with you, Paola. I've never known anyone like you. This world... it has captured you, and you... you've captured me."
Paola found herself living in the moment. This world, with all its wonders and dangers, had truly captured her. And Ayla... Ayla had captured her heart. Maybe she could send a message home, telling them she was okay. Maybe that was enough. Maybe she could stay here, with Ayla.
Without another word, Paola leaned in, her lips meeting Ayla's in a soft, lingering kiss. Ayla's eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly melted into the kiss, their connection deepening in that silent embrace. They pulled apart slowly, only to come together again in a series of tender, reassuring kisses.
Paola sat back, her heart pounding, and confessed, "I think... I think I'd like to stay here, with you."
Ayla froze, her expression unreadable for a moment before it blossomed into pure joy. She let out a soft, incredulous laugh and then it was her turn to initiate the kiss, her arms wrapping around Paola, pulling her close.
When they finally broke apart, Paola sighed. "Let's get the hard part over with."
Ayla nodded, a mischievous glint in her eye. "We have a ride this time," she said with a small smirk.
Curious, Paola followed Ayla out of the room and down to the stables behind the inn. There, standing proud and magnificent, was a sleek black steed. Ayla had managed to acquire a horse, and not just any horse—a majestic black one that looked as if it had been carved from midnight itself.
"This is Smokey," Ayla said, her voice soothing as she stroked the horse's sleek neck.
Paola's guard went up instantly. Her old fear of horses, something that always embarrassed her, came rushing back. Her body tensed, and she bit her lip, her eyes darting from Ayla to Smokey and back again.
Ayla seemed to sense her hesitation and gently guided her closer to the steed. Paola shifted uncomfortably, acutely aware of her nakedness beneath her cloak. She wrapped the fabric tighter around her, a blush creeping up her neck. Ayla, on the other hand, moved with the ease and grace of someone entirely at home in their own skin. She hopped up onto Smokey with a casual fluidity, then turned to offer her hand to Paola.
"Come on, we don't got all day." Ayla said, her hand extended, her eyes filled with encouragement.
Paola stared up at the Sword Maiden in awe. The morning sun played off Ayla's tussled blonde hair, turning it into a halo of golden light. Her black shoulder pads and boots gleamed, and the matching magical metal bikini she wore seemed both fierce and beautiful. She looked like a knight from some fantasy novel, her hand outstretched like a scene from a dream.
Paola couldn't help but laugh softly. "This can't be real," she murmured, half to herself.
Ayla frowned slightly, confused by the comment. "What do you mean?"
"Nothing," Paola replied, shaking her head with a smile. She reached up, taking Ayla's hand.
With a firm yet gentle pull, Ayla helped Paola onto Smokey's back. Paola adjusted herself, feeling the horse's warmth against her body, her cloak rustling around her. Smokey started off at a steady pace, and Paola clung to Ayla, her arms wrapped around the Sword Maiden's waist. They moved through the layers of Valarian, a city of wonders that never ceased to amaze Paola.
They crossed bustling market squares where vendors called out their wares, selling everything from fresh produce to magical artifacts. As Smokey trotted along wooden walkways and bridges, Paola caught glimpses of airships floating gracefully above. These ships, resembling old-timey sailing vessels, navigated the magical currents of the air with large, billowing sails. Their presence added an out worldly beauty to the sky, and Paola couldn’t help but marvel at the sight.
Their path took them through the lower levels, where the hustle and bustle of daily life thrived. Artisans crafted their goods, children played in the streets, and the rich livelihood of Valarian culture was on full display. The buildings here were constructed with materials that complemented the sandy landscape, their earthy tones blending seamlessly with the environment.
As they ascended to higher levels, the scenery changed. The residential wards gave way to grander estates, and the streets grew quieter, more serene. Ayla guided Smokey with expert skill, maneuvering through the labyrinthine network of paths and bridges with ease. The higher they climbed, the more Paola felt the wind on her face, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the horse beneath her.
Paola couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity and delight of the situation. Riding a horse naked under her cloak, traveling through a magical city with a warrior at her side—it was all too fantastical, too wonderful to be real.
"Ayla, this is incredible," Paola said, her voice filled with awe.
Ayla turned her head slightly, a smile playing on her lips. "I'm glad you're enjoying it. Valarian is a beautiful city, and I'm happy to share it with you."
They crossed a river at one point, the water sparkling in the sunlight. The bridge they used was an elegant structure, its arches reflecting in the calm waters below. Paola leaned over slightly to look at her reflection, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. The riverbanks were lined with wildflowers and resilient trees, adding splashes of color to the sandy landscape.
Smokey continued to carry them through the city, his hooves clopping rhythmically against the sandstone streets. They passed through sections where sand dunes encroached upon the city, the golden waves of sand dotted with patches of green life. Paola marveled at the way nature and civilization intertwined here, creating a harmony that was both beautiful and unique.
As they neared the outskirts of the city, the buildings grew sparser, and the landscape opened up. The Spinal Range loomed ahead, a majestic backdrop to their journey. The ride grew more challenging as they approached the mountains, the path becoming steeper and more rugged.
Paola held on tighter to Ayla, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation. The adventure was exhilarating, but the reality of their destination loomed large in her mind. She was about to meet Lady Marcelline, a figure of immense power and influence. What would this meeting mean for her and Ayla?
Despite her worries, Paola felt a deep sense of contentment. She was in a magical world, sharing this journey with someone who had become incredibly important to her. Ayla had captured her heart, and for now, that was enough.
The sun climbed higher in the sky, casting long shadows as they continued their ascent. The landscape around them was a breathtaking blend of desert and life, sand dunes rolling out in all directions, interspersed with vibrant patches of vegetation.
Paola's mind wandered to the possibilities that lay ahead. She could send a message home, letting her loved ones know she was safe. Perhaps she could even find a way to bridge the gap between Earth and Udanara. But for now, she was content to live in the moment, to enjoy the ride, and to cherish the connection she had found with Ayla.
They trotted up through the rocky landscape, Smokey's hooves clattering over the uneven terrain. The Spinal Range rose up before them, a majestic wall of stone and earth, its peaks jagged and imposing. Ayla deftly guided Smokey through the narrow valleys, the path weaving between the mountain peaks.
The higher they climbed, the cooler the air became, and Paola felt a slight shiver run through her. And just like they went up, they went down. Ayla slowed their pace, Smokey carefully descending the treacherous terrain. As they rode down, Paola could see parts of Valarian sprawled out before them, its sandstone structures glowing in the late afternoon sun. Rocky outcrops and small cliffs dotted the landscape, offering a glimpse into the varied geography of the region.
Ayla's voice, calm and reassuring, cut through the silence. "We're nearly there."
Paola nodded, her arms still wrapped around Ayla's waist, her body pressed close. Despite the cool air, the Sword Maiden's warmth was a welcome presence.
As they descended, the terrain changed. The rock-strewn valleys gave way to lush meadows, the grasses waving gently in the breeze. She was still amazed at the juxtaposition between the arid desert landscape and this sudden burst of life. It was as if the mountain range acted as a protective barrier, creating a pocket of fertile land amidst the seemingly endless sands. That, that was earth brain thinking. Trying to apply logic to a place so magical, a world so unlike anything back home, was like trying to understand the sun with a flashlight.
Smokey found a trail, following it deeper into the lush valley. They passed beneath the shade of trees, the air cool and crisp. The smell of flowers and vegetation hung thick in the air, a stark contrast to the dusty desert scents. The trail itself was well-worn, winding through the meadows and past the occasional pond or stream. It was a beautiful setting, and Paola couldn't help but admire the way the sun lit up the grass, making it appear almost golden.
"Easy," Ayla said softly, her voice barely audible.
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As the afternoon sun cast its warm, golden light over the landscape, Smokey carried Paola and Ayla from the winding, sandy soil path onto a beautiful cobblestone road. The transition from the rugged trail to the smooth stones was almost symbolic, marking their entry into a realm of refined elegance and power.
As Smokey trotted from the winding, well-worn sandy soil path onto a beautifully laid cobblestone road, Paola marveled at the transformation. The estate that came into view was nothing short of magnificent. It was a sprawling complex that blended the elegance of a Hispanic villa with the grandeur of medieval architecture. The walls were a warm tapestry of brown, beige, and russet, each hue blending seamlessly to create a sense of both warmth and fortitude. The Spanish influence was clear in the arched windows and wrought iron balconies, while the medieval themes stood out in the towering stone turrets and thick wooden doors reinforced with iron.
Subtle motifs of the Leviathan were interwoven throughout the estate’s design. Carvings of the mythical beast adorned the doorways and arches, and the curvature of the ribs was mirrored in the sweeping lines of the rooftops and terraces. The Leviathan's influence was unmistakable. The entire estate seemed to echo with the power and mystery of the creature, lending an air of both majesty and enigma to the place.
The sunbathed estate sat in a golden light, casting long shadows that danced across the cobblestone courtyard as Smokey came to a stop. Ayla dismounted first, her movements fluid and graceful, and then extended a hand to help Paola down. Paola slid off Smokey's back, her feet finding solid ground with a sense of relief. She adjusted her cloak, feeling the weight of the journey lift slightly as she took in their surroundings.
Standing at the entrance of the estate was a tall woman with sharp features and an air of unflinching loyalty. Gwenore, Lady Marcelline's head maid, regarded them with a mixture of surprise and scrutiny. Her posture was rigid, and her eyes flicked over Ayla with a calculating intensity.
"Ayla," Gwenore greeted, her tone a mix of surprise and cool indifference. "I heard rumors you had fallen to Cave Hounds."
Ayla gave a noncommittal shrug. "Rumors, indeed. Where is Lady Marcelline?"
Gwenore’s eyes narrowed slightly at the dismissal. "She won't be back until the evening," she said, her voice clipped. There was a tension between the two women, a clear battle for dominance simmering beneath the surface. They respected each other’s roles but made no attempt to hide their mutual disdain.
Ayla nodded curtly. "Then I'll use this time to get Paola accustomed to the estate."
Gwenore raised a brow, her gaze shifting to Paola for the first time. Paola, sensing the need to make a good impression, quickly stepped forward, extending her hand in greeting. "Hello, I’m Paola Juderías," she said, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.
Both Ayla and Gwenore looked momentarily surprised by the gesture. Gwenore's eyes narrowed further, scrutinizing Paola before she extended her own hand. "Gwenore," she replied, her grip firm. "Welcome to Lady Marcelline’ Valcrest's estate."
Ayla watched the exchange with a keen eye, then turned to Paola. "Come, let’s show you around."
They left Gwenore standing in the courtyard, her sharp gaze following them as Ayla led Paola through the grand entrance. Inside, the estate was just as impressive as the exterior. The entrance hall was expansive, with high ceilings adorned with intricate murals depicting scenes of mythical battles and serene landscapes. The floor was made of polished stone, reflecting the soft light from chandeliers above.
"This place is incredible," Paola whispered, awe evident in her voice.
Ayla smiled slightly. "Lady Marcelline has a keen eye for beauty and strength. This estate reflects her perfectly."
They walked through several rooms, each more impressive than the last. There were grand halls with long dining tables, libraries filled with ancient tomes and scrolls, and cozy sitting rooms with plush furniture and warm fireplaces. The subtle Leviathan motifs continued throughout the interiors, in the form of paintings, sculptures, and even the design of the furniture.
They eventually made their way to a balcony that overlooked the city of Valarian. The view was breathtaking. From this vantage point, Paola could see the entire city sprawled out below, nestled within the protective embrace of the Leviathan’s ribs. The sun, now lower in the sky, cast long shadows that played across the buildings, creating a mesmerizing display of light and darkness.
"Wow," Paola breathed, leaning on the railing. "This is... beyond words."
Ayla stood beside her, her expression softening as she took in the view. "It is something, isn’t it? From here, you can see all of Valarian, the market squares, the residential wards, even the smaller villages beyond."
Paola nodded, her heart swelling with a mix of emotions. She felt a sense of awe, of being part of something much larger than herself. And yet, there was a pang of uncertainty, of not knowing what the future held. She stood on the balcony, the cool wind brushing against her skin, her cloak catching and billowing in the breeze. She stared out at the vast expanse of Valarian, taking in the breathtaking view. It reminded her vaguely of Albuquerque, with its unique blend of cultures and landscapes, but this was something entirely different, something extraordinary.
The city below was alive with movement, a blend of light and shadow nestled within the protective embrace of the Leviathan’s ribs. She could see the dunes in the distance, tossing up sand in the wind, creating a shimmering, ever-changing landscape. It amazed her how normal this felt now, how seamlessly she had adapted to this new world.
Meeting Ayla had to be the best thing that had ever happened to her. Without Ayla, she would have been lost in this strange land, but with her, Paola felt a sense of purpose and belonging. They stood side by side, not speaking for what felt like an hour, simply absorbing the moment. Paola’s eyes drifted to the horizon, and she marveled at the sight of the ocean in the distance. She wondered just how high they were and if it was even possible to see that far, if that's what she was even seeing.
Finally, the silence was broken by a voice from the room behind them. Gwenore stepped onto the balcony, her presence commanding as ever. “Lady Marcelline will be returning soon,” she informed them, her tone crisp. “I suggest you wait in the guest room.”
Ayla nodded and turned to Paola. “Let’s go.”
As they walked back inside, Ayla glanced at Gwenore. “What about my team? Did they make it back safely?”
Gwenore’s eyes gleamed with a hint of satisfaction, as if she had been waiting for this moment. “Oh, have you not heard?” she asked, feigning surprise. “You’ve been replaced, Ayla. Ashekin Gravehorn, a Minotaur general, has taken over as leader of your, well, his team now.”
Ayla’s expression tightened, a grimace flashing across her face for just a moment before she composed herself. “I see,” she replied evenly.
Gwenore led them to the guest room, a space as grand as the rest of the estate. The room was spacious, with high ceilings and large windows that let in the golden afternoon light. The furnishings were a blend of the same Hispanic and medieval styles, with rich wooden furniture, intricately carved, and upholstered in warm, earthy tones. A large, comfortable bed sat in the center, with plush rugs covering the stone floor.
Gwenore stood at the door, her expression neutral but with a barely noticeable smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. “Make yourselves comfortable,” she said before turning and closing the door behind her.
Paola looked around the room, taking in the opulence and the subtle hints of Lady Marcelline’s influence. She sat down on the edge of the bed, the events of the day catching up to her. Ayla remained standing, her back to the door, her posture tense.
“Are you okay?” Paola asked softly.
Ayla turned to her, her expression softening. “I’ll be fine. It’s just... unexpected.”
Paola raised an eyebrow as she watched Ayla. Humans, at least, seemed to be the same here as they were on Earth, Paola thought. Ayla's mood had clearly soured. The revelation of being replaced was more than just unexpected—it was a blow. Ayla’s red and blue eyes darted around the floor, as if she was performing some internal calculations. Her lips moved silently, and Paola’s nerves began to fray.
"Are you okay?" Paola asked again, her voice tinged with worry.
Ayla nodded, but before she could say anything, she stopped herself. She stood and began to pace, further increasing Paola’s stress. Paola tried to lighten the mood, making a joke about how pacing definitely meant everything was okay. Ayla stopped and sighed deeply, looking at Paola with a mix of frustration and sorrow.
"Ayla?" Paola prompted, her voice barely above a whisper; the anxiety in her chest feeling like a ticking time bomb. It was as if she were waiting for a phone call with devastating news, and she didn’t want to answer it. Yet, Ayla seemed ready to pick up the phone.
Ayla took a deep breath, wringing her hands nervously. "Paola, there’s something I need to tell you. I knew... I knew you were the Fallen Star from the beginning."
Paola's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What does that mean?"
Ayla’s entire demeanor was on edge. She looked like she was about to break. "I didn’t want to catch feelings, Paola. My duty... I... I was supposed to..."
"So, what if I'm the Fallen Star?" Paola pressed. "Isn't that a good thing?"
Ayla stopped pacing and stared at the ground, the last light of the sun dipping below the horizon and casting the room into darkness. Unlit by lamps or candles, the only light source was the faint glow of the city beyond. She was still for a moment, her eyes closed, before turning to Paola. The shadows deepened, and Ayla’s voice seemed detached, almost hollow.
Paola watched Ayla, her eyes wide with uncertainty as Ayla repeated her question, “So what if you’re the Fallen Star?” Ayla seemed to struggle with how to continue, her hesitation palpable in the dim light of the room.
“The original plan was to return you to Lady Marcelline at all costs,” Ayla began, her voice tinged with regret. “It’s the time of the Great Summoning...”
Paola’s confused expression made Ayla falter, the pain evident on her face even in the shadowed room. She pressed on, determined to explain. “The Great Summoning is when Udanara summons heroes and their magical equipment. It’s a herald of war. After generations, we’ve come to understand this event. The Void Borne—people like you, from other worlds, born from beyond the void—are called here. They bring knowledge of alien concepts, and with them, the omen of disorder.”
Ayla’s voice grew softer, almost detached. “The Void Borne usually bring bad luck. They’re seen as heralds of war, omens of chaos. That’s how I saw you... at first.”
Paola’s heart sank. “Ayla...”
Ayla continued, swallowing hard. “People who are summoned are never ready. Most don’t survive the fall, and those who do... don’t last long afterward. Under half survive the initial summoning.”
Paola’s mind raced back to how quickly she had almost died upon arriving in Udanara. It was true; she had barely survived. Ayla’s words hammered home the harsh reality of her situation.
Ayla’s expression was pained as she summoned Paola’s fluffy bunny slippers from the dimensional bag and tossed them at her feet. “Put these in your bag. The gear that Void Borne bring is often worth more than their lives. The dead one’s gear becomes highly sought after during the Great Summoning. It turns the world into a massive dungeon, with everyone seeking the power of the Fallen Stars.”
Paola’s heart felt heavy, and she looked at Ayla, her eyes filling with tears. “Is that what I am? Just another piece of gear to be sought after?”
Silent tears streamed down Ayla’s face as she nodded. “The truth is, Paola... after speaking with Thrix, we’ve confirmed there are three Falling Stars in or around Valarian, and several more across the Seracian Sands. This is the largest summoning Udanara has ever seen.”
Paola understood the gravity of the situation, but it didn’t make the reality any easier to bear. She looked at Ayla, her voice breaking. “Am I just a job to you? Is that what you meant by having a duty?”
The room was cloaked in shadows, the only light coming from the distant city, casting a dim, golden glow. Ayla’s face was partly hidden in darkness, her red iris glowing faintly in the light, while her blue eye remained shrouded in shadows. She stared at Paola for what felt like an eternity, the silence stretching unbearably.
Finally, Ayla broke the stare, her gaze dropping to the ground. Paola watched her, feeling conflicted and confused. What did all of this mean for them? For their relationship? She wanted to ask, to demand answers, but before she could, the door burst open.
Gwenore stood there, the light from the hallway flooding in. She called out cheerily, “Lady Marcelline will see you now.”
Ayla’s jaw tightened, but she nodded curtly. “Thank you, Gwenore.”
Gwenore’s gaze flicked between the two of them, her eyes lingering on their expressions. A hint of satisfaction crossed her face as she observed the tension, but she said nothing more. She turned and led the way down the hall.
Gwenore led Ayla and Paola down the grand corridors of the estate, their footsteps echoing softly against the polished stone floors. The opulent surroundings seemed distant and insignificant compared to the turmoil within Paola's mind. Eventually, they reached a large, ornate door, and Gwenore paused with her hand on the handle.
"Remember your place," Gwenore said, her tone icy, before opening the door and ushering them inside.
They stepped into Lady Marcelline's private business suite, an open villa-style office with a distinctive maritime medieval charm. The room was bathed in the dying glow of the setting sun, streaming in through a wraparound window that offered a breathtaking view of Valarian. The walls were adorned with rich paintings and maps, and the furniture was a blend of luxurious velvet and sturdy wood, exuding both elegance and strength.
Lady Marcelline stood by the window, her back to them, staring out over the city. Her presence was imposing despite her average build, and her sleek, silver-white hair was styled impeccably in intricate braids that signified her noble status. Gwenore cleared her throat softly.
"My Lady, Ayla and Paola are here," she announced before excusing herself and closing the door quietly.
For several moments, the room was silent. Lady Marcelline didn’t react immediately, allowing the tension to build. Then, slowly and deliberately, she turned to face them. Her piercing ice blue eyes seemed to dissect them with a single glance. A smile spread across her lips, a smile that was impossible to read and seemed to hold daggers behind its sweetness.
"Welcome," she said, her voice sweet and yet unnervingly controlled. "Ayla, it is truly a delight to see you’ve survived the ordeal with the Cave Hounds."
Paola felt as if she had been dropped into the worst possible situation, like being the only one sober at a dangerous party where everyone else was armed and untrustworthy. The combination of Lady Marcelline's calculating eyes and her deceptively warm tone set Paola's nerves on edge. She could feel Ayla tense beside her, the words unspoken but understood: this was a place where they had to tread carefully.
"Thank you, Lady Marcelline," Ayla replied, her voice steady but with an edge of wariness. "It’s good to be back."
Lady Marcelline's gaze shifted to Paola, and the smile on her face widened just a fraction. "And this must be Paola. I’ve heard so much about you."
Paola swallowed hard, feeling like a small prey animal caught in the eyes of a predator. She managed a nod, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, my Lady."
Lady Marcelline’s expression softened, but the intensity in her eyes remained. "I am genuinely pleased to meet you, Paola. Your presence here is... significant."
Paola’s heart pounded in her chest. The atmosphere was thick with tension and unspoken implications. She glanced at Ayla, seeking reassurance, but found only a mirrored look of uncertainty and fear.
"Please, make yourselves comfortable," Lady Marcelline said, gesturing to the plush chairs in front of her desk. "We have much to discuss."
As they took their seats, Paola couldn't shake the feeling of being scrutinized, evaluated. Lady Marcelline's smile never wavered, but it did nothing to dispel the sense of dread that had settled over her.