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, Arturo. 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, was causing everything. In his hands, it seemed harmless, a simple piece of jewelry, but now, apparently, it had become something much bigger.
A key.
The policemen were silent, their presence menacing and cold. Arturo looked ahead.
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—and into the center of the town. The police continued their route with a disturbing 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, motioned for him to get out. He had no choice. He got out of his seat, forced to follow his destiny, even though 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 grey 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 closed with a dry noise, and the bars crossed between him and the outside world. The dim light of 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 necklace, the arrest… everything seemed taken from a strange dream, but he was there, in a dark place, waiting for answers that did not come.
One of the policemen approached, his eyes empty of emotion, and said in an impersonal tone:
—Wait a moment. We are going to bring someone.
Arturo said nothing. He just sat on the cell bench, his hands clasped together, head drooping, lost in thought. 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 it 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 that 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 upright, 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, filled with a mixture of disbelief and pleading. “Do you remember when we were children? The stories we made up together!”
But Maria did not react. She looked at him as if she were listening to a stranger tell stories that did not concern her. His eyes, normally warm in his memories, were now empty wells of emotion, filled with distance and coldness.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she replied, her tone firm and dispassionate, as if it had been rehearsed a thousand times. “I am here only for this.”
Maria raised her hand, revealing the necklace she had been wearing. Arturo felt the air suddenly escape from him as he recognized the object, unaware of its true meaning.
The key. The key that, according to the Twilights, could open the doors of the Luminous Castle, and with them, perhaps, the fate of Enchantia. His mind raced in a thousand directions: the conversations in the forest, the scattered clues, the signs he had ignored. Everything pointed to that moment, to that revelation, and to the terrifying truth that Maria, his sister but also heir to Solaris and Nocturnia, now held that power in her hands.
“As for you… you have threatened the Separatist peace of Enchantia,” Maria continued, stepping forward menacingly as she drew her sword from her belt.
“No!” she exclaimed, pounding the bars with her clenched fists. “The Maria I know is not a coward! She would not hide behind titles, nor 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 his hands. Maria stepped up to the bars, her figure firm as a statue, and extended the sword toward Arthur.
“If you truly believe what you say,” she said, her voice now filled with defiance, “prove it. Take this sword and fight. Fight for what you stand for. Fight for what you say I am.”
Arthur 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.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
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 Arthur.
There was something relentless in his gaze, as if he had erased any personal connection that might have existed between them.
Arthur 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.
Mary 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 Arthur blocked just in time.
The impact resonated in his arms, forcing him back. But Arthur didn’t stop looking at her. He couldn’t stop looking at her.
“Mary, 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 did not answer. 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 step forward, his words coming out with renewed force.
“Look around you, Maria!” Arthur shouted, his voice laden with desperation and truth. “All this power, all this wealth your parents amass, what is it for? Only the richest enjoy it, while everyone else suffers. In Solaris, people burn; in Nocturnia, they freeze. Is that what you stand for? Is that what you want to perpetuate?”
Maria, eyes alight with fury, did not stop her attack. Her movements, until then precise and controlled, became more aggressive, more instinctive. Arthur took a step back, raising his sword just in time to block another fierce blow.
“There is another way, Maria!” Arthur continued, dodging another sword slash. “The Terminator, Lyra… You could be more than a princess of broken kingdoms. You could be the queen who unifies all of Enchantia! You could be our heroine, Maria.”
The mention of “heroine” seemed to ignite something in her, but not in the way Arthur expected. With a scream filled with frustration and seeking to silence him once and for all, Maria raised her sword and swung it at him with all her strength. Arthur barely managed to dodge it, feeling the edge graze his side before the blade dug deep into the wall, vibrating with a metallic clang.
The sound reverberated through the room, marking a moment of tense stillness. Arthur was breathing hard, his hands shaking on the hilt of his sword, but he didn’t attack. He had the chance to fight back, to disarm her, even to kill her and be done with it, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t going to.
“I can’t,” he said finally, his voice barely a whisper. He lowered the sword slowly, letting it fall to the ground with a thud. “You’re my sister, Maria. It doesn’t matter what you’ve forgotten. I haven’t forgotten.”
Maria stared at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her expression, once hardened with rage, began to change. Doubt crept back onto her face, but this time it was mixed with something else: curiosity, or perhaps the beginnings of something resembling understanding.
“If what you say is true…” he said, his voice lower, but thick with tension. “Then I have to see it with my own eyes.”
She pushed away from the wall, leaving her sword stuck in it, and stood up straight with the haughty stance of someone who has made an irrevocable decision.
Arturo looked at her, not quite understanding at first.
“Take me to them,” Maria continued, taking a step towards him. “Take me to the Twilights. To your people. Let me see the poverty you speak of with my own eyes.”
Arturo felt a lump form in his throat. The idea of ??taking Maria, the princess daughter of the Separatist Kings, directly to the Twilights’ lair or the poorer lands of Solaris and Nocturnia was dangerous. He knew they would not trust her. Probably not even accept her.
“They do not trust you,” he said finally, his voice heavy with warning. “And if they see you as a threat, they will not 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 put the key on her neck.
“Take me to them,” she repeated, her tone leaving no room for doubt.
Arthur 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 charged with a quiet strength.
“I never thought it would be.”
Together, they left the cell, leaving behind the swords abandoned on the floor. The guards, perplexed by the change in dynamic, just watched in silence without daring to intervene as Arthur and Maria crossed the halls of the building. The echo of their footsteps resonated on the cold stone, and although silence surrounded them, it seemed as if all of Enchantia was holding its breath.
As they crossed the halls of the building, Arthur felt that something had changed between them. For the first time in years, there was a real, albeit fragile, connection between them.
Soon after, they were riding through the Enchanted Forest. The rhythmic sound of hooves broke the serenity of the afternoon, while the fresh air of the forest caressed their faces. They found themselves crossing a winding path, surrounded by tall trees whose intertwined branches formed a natural roof, filtering the golden light of the setting sun.
Maria, riding with an upright and determined posture, seemed a regal figure, as if the vestige of her former life as crown princess vanished with each step of the horse. Her armor, which she wore over a dress that still retained the delicacy of royalty, was hidden under a long coat of white cloth, encouraging the new twilight airs. Above her head, the hood of her coat moved slightly in the wind, partially obscuring her face.
Arthur, riding beside her, was the guide, leading the way to the Twilights'' lair. Although the path was nothing familiar to him, there was something about the atmosphere of the forest that made him feel like each step brought them closer to their destination.
As they moved forward, Arthur glanced at his sister, as if he still couldn''t believe she was there, fighting by his side. He knew she had the strength to lead, to be the heroine Enchantia needed.
The Enchanted Forest seemed to open up before them as they moved forward, the trees growing taller, older, and the shadows deeper. Nature itself seemed to sense the presence of the two, and the wind blew in a peculiar way, as if it were guiding them.
The terrain grew increasingly rugged as they neared the lair. The narrower paths required the horses to proceed with caution, but neither Arthur nor Maria faltered.
The journey through the Enchanted Forest eventually brought them to a clearing hidden among trees so dense that sunlight could barely filter through.
There, Arthur and Maria dismounted from their horses.
Arthur was the first to advance toward the entrance to the Twilights’ lair: a crevice between two huge, moss-covered rocks, barely visible to the untrained eye. From within the shadows, a murmur of voices rose as they noticed their arrival.
From the shadows emerged several Twilights, dressed in a mix of white robes and makeshift armor, their eyes shining with a glint of caution and defiance. One of them, a tall, robust man with a scar running across his cheek, raised a hand to stop Arthur before he could speak.
“What is this?” “She is not just a princess,” he growled, his voice deep like distant thunder. “You are bringing the Crown Princess to our refuge?”
Arthur raised his hands in a sign of calm, but his gaze was fixed on Maria, who remained upright, not showing even a hint of hesitation.
“She is not just a princess,” Arthur said, turning to the group with a voice that tried to sound firm, although he felt the weight of distrust in every glance he received. “She is Maria, and she is here because she seeks the same thing we do.”
The scarred man let out a dry laugh, and others followed with nervous laughter.
“The same thing we do?” he repeated in disbelief. “And what is that?”
Arthur gritted his teeth, but before he could respond, Maria stepped forward. Her coat billowed with the movement, fleetingly revealing part of her armor.
“I have come here because I want to see what you see,” she said, her voice firm but not aggressive. I am not here to bring war, I am here to find absolute peace.
Maria’s words fell like a stone in water. A momentary silence swept through the Twilights, interrupting the tense murmurings that filled the air. The looks of distrust and mockery began to slowly dissipate, leaving room for cautious curiosity, but there was still a trace of uncertainty hanging in the air.
“And why should we trust you?” asked a sharp-faced woman, her eyes cold as steel. Her tone carried the venom contained by years of resistance, years of broken promises by those she called her enemies. “You are the daughter of kings, the heir to all that we have suffered, to all that we hate.”
Maria held her gaze without wavering. She didn''t move away even an inch, as if the woman''s words didn''t touch her in the slightest.
"For the same reason I''m going to trust you," she replied, her tone full of calm, but with a force that couldn''t be ignored. "Because I love Enantia."
Arturo saw how Maria''s words were beginning to sink in with some, but distrust was still present in most of the air. The young man took a step forward, standing between Maria and the Twilights.
"Guys, trust me," he said, his voice more urgent now. "I''ve been with you and I know what we''re facing. Maria isn''t here to destroy what we''ve built. She''s here because she wants to help us get Lyra back."
The name of the lost city caused a murmur among the group. The Twilights exchanged glances, some visibly shocked by the mention.
Finally, the scarred man narrowed his eyes, looking at Arturo and then at Maria with a mixture of doubt and resignation.
“If what you say is true, then you will have to prove it,” he said, pointing towards the interior of the den. “If she wants our trust, she will have to prove that she is not one of them.”
Maria nodded slowly, as if accepting the challenge without further words. Arturo felt a slight relief at seeing that she did not flinch, but he also knew that the tests that awaited him would not be easy.
The Twilights moved aside, making way for the dark entrance of the den. Arturo and Maria exchanged a glance, and although they did not say anything to each other, they both understood that this was a decisive moment.
Without further delay, they walked together inside, with the murmurs of the Twilights following them.
Inside the den, the atmosphere was tense but full of expectation. The Twilights had lit several torches that illuminated the rock walls and the map spread out on a worn wooden table. Arthur and Maria stood in front of the group, surrounded by figures who watched them skeptically.
Arthur leaned over the map next to Maria. The Luminous Castle dominated the center, surrounded by the access routes and strategic positions marked by the Twilights in red and black lines.
Arthur was the first to speak, pointing out the main point of the plan.
“Tomorrow afternoon you will enter the Luminous Castle as you always have,” he said, looking at Maria. “You will pretend that nothing has changed. You will attend the final ceremony as if you were still the obedient princess they expect.”
Maria nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the map, but her mind clearly on something larger.
“When the time comes for me to step out onto the balcony with my parents for the farewell speech,” she added, her voice firm and charged with determination, “I will make my own announcement. I will declare that the gates of Lyra are open once again to all the inhabitants of Enchantia.”
A silence filled with surprise and bewilderment followed her words. Some Twilights exchanged glances, clearly shocked by the audacity of the proposal.
“That won’t be enough,” said a woman at the back of the room, crossing her arms. “What makes you think people will listen to you?”
Maria looked up and scanned the face of each Twilight present. Her voice, when she spoke, was like a blow of authority.
“Because I will open the gates of the fortress to all, proclaiming myself queen of the city that never rests.”
The Twilights gaped. Some tensed, others crossed their arms, but the bewilderment was evident. Even Arthur stood still for a moment.
“A queen?” Ghalen, the nightsmith, muttered with a mix of disbelief and disdain. “Do you even hear yourself? The Twilights don’t need another crowned figure telling us what to do.”
Maria didn’t back down an inch.
“I won’t be a queen like my parents,” she replied, her tone firm but not aggressive. “I won’t rule from a tower or seek more power for myself. I will be the leader Enchantia needs, a heroine to those who have lost hope, to those who want to find a home.”
Arthur stepped forward.
“She’s right,” he said, looking at the group with determination. “If Maria is the one to declare Lyra’s reopening, if she’s the one to lead the return, it will be impossible for the Separatist kings to silence her without delegitimizing themselves. And if we support her, if the people see that the Twilights believe in her, they will too.” “You take me to Solaris and Nocturnia,” Maria said, offering her hand to the scarred Twilight, “and I will be your leader.”
A murmur ran through the room, and the faces of the Twilights filled with doubt and internal debate. Maria let the silence work for her, holding her head high, Lyra’s key shining in the torchlight as a symbol of her decision.
The Twilight squeezed her hand, and the others scattered about the lair, accepting the plan, though not without some reluctance. The torches illuminated tense faces as they began to prepare for the mission. Some were busy reinforcing their improvised weapons and armor, others studied the map of the Luminous Castle, pointing out routes and possible access points.
The energy in the room was a mix of determination and doubt.
Maria stood next to Arturo near the central table, watching as the Twilights worked in silence. Although she had managed to gain their attention, she knew that not all of them fully trusted her. Arturo, for his part, tried to remain firm, supporting her with his presence and his words when necessary.
Suddenly, one of the Twilights approached them. He was an older man, with gray hair and a stern expression, but his eyes had a gleam of wisdom along with sadness. In his hands he carried something wrapped in a dark cloth.
“Maria,” he said in a deep voice, stopping in front of her.
Maria turned to look at him, holding her head high.
“Yes,” she answered, her tone reflecting more curiosity than defiance.
The man carefully unrolled the cloth, revealing what was inside: a handmade tiara. It was simple, constructed from pieces of recycled metal, but there was something beautiful in its design. The Twilights had worked every detail with care, incorporating small engravings that represented both the sun and the moon, linked by a pattern of stars.
Maria stared at the object, bewildered.
“What is this?” she asked, her voice softer now.
The man held out the tiara to her, holding it as if it were something fragile but full of meaning.
“This is who we are,” he said, his words slow and measured. “We made it years ago, when we still dreamed of Lyra. We always knew that, one day, someone would come to lead us.”
Maria looked at him, her eyes moving between the tiara and the man’s face, seeking to understand the weight of his words.
“I don’t know if I am that person,” she admitted, with an honesty that made Arthur look at her with a mix of surprise and admiration.
The man nodded, as if he had expected that answer.
“Maybe you aren’t yet,” he said, his voice softer now. “But that’s not up to me or anyone else here. It’s up to you.”
He held out the tiara, bringing it a little closer.
“When you feel you are worthy of wearing this,” he continued, “when you believe you can be the queen Enchantia needs, then wear it. Until then, keep it as a reminder of what is at stake.”
Maria reached out carefully, taking the tiara as if it were something much heavier than it looked. For a moment, she stared at it, her fingers brushing the engravings with a mix of doubt and fascination.
“Thank you,” he finally said, his voice barely a whisper.
The man nodded and stepped back, letting Maria process the moment. Arthur moved closer to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“It’s a symbol,” Arthur said, smiling slightly. “Not just for them, but for you.”
Maria nodded slowly, her eyes still fixed on the tiara. She held it to her chest for a moment before wrapping it back in the cloth and tucking it carefully into her belt.
“First, I’ll give a speech at the farewell to the Separation Celebration,” Maria said, looking up with renewed determination. “Then, I’ll see if I’m worthy of being their queen.”