Chapter 8 “The Trial Of Two Hearts”

The Queen’s gaze lingers on me, unblinking, the silver in her eyes swirling like a storm contained. The air in the throne hall grows colder, sharper, as if the world itself holds its breath.

“You wish to return to your realm,” she says, her voice a melody threaded with power. “Then prove that your heart is not divided.”

My pulse stutters. “Prove it? How?”

The Queen steps down from her throne, every movement fluid, otherworldly. The ground glows faintly beneath her feet. “To walk between worlds, Elera, one must be whole. You are not. You cling to both, torn by love, fear, and blood you do not yet understand. You must face what binds you—and what could destroy you.”

Her words hang in the air like thunder waiting to fall.

“I’ll do it,” I say, even though my voice shakes. “Whatever it takes.”

A faint smile touches her lips. “So be it.”

She raises a hand, and the air splits open. A shimmering archway appears in the center of the hall, made of pure light and shadow, pulsing like a heartbeat. Wind whirls around us, carrying whispers in languages I can’t name.

“Step through,” the Queen commands. “There, your trial awaits.”

I glance once at Mira, who watches silently from the edge of the hall. Her expression gives nothing away, but her eyes flicker with something—worry, maybe. Or pity.

I take a breath and step into the light.

The world twists.

Colors bleed, sounds blur, and then I’m standing in a forest unlike any I’ve ever seen. The trees are tall and dark, their leaves silver-edged, their roots pulsing faintly with blue light. The sky above is fractured, half night, half dawn, and the air crackles with energy that tastes like rain and iron.

I’m not alone.

A figure stands a few feet ahead, cloaked in black, face hidden. I take a cautious step forward. “Who are you?”

The figure lifts its head—and my heart stops.

It’s me.

Or… a version of me. Her eyes are colder, her skin almost luminous, and there’s a faint mark glowing on her collarbone, shaped like a crescent moon.

“This is your first trial,” the Queen’s voice echoes from nowhere and everywhere. “Face the reflection of your fae blood. Only one of you may remain.”

My other self smirks, unsheathing a blade that hums with magic. “You’ve always been weak, Elera,” she says, her voice like mine but sharper. “Clinging to humans, pretending you’re one of them. But you’re not. You’re one of us.”

“I’m both!” I shout, summoning strength I didn’t know I had.

She lunges. Steel sings through the air. I barely dodge, the edge grazing my arm and leaving a trail of fire. Pain flashes, real and burning. I grab a fallen branch—useless, but instinct drives me. The branch glows faintly in my grip, turning to silver as energy surges through me.

“What—?”

“Your power is waking,” the Queen’s voice murmurs. “Use it.”

My reflection charges again. I thrust the silver branch forward. It explodes into light, the impact knocking us both backward. She hits the ground hard, dissolving into fragments of silver dust.

When I open my eyes, the forest shifts.

The trees melt away into another scene—Grandma’s garden, bathed in golden light. My throat tightens. She’s there, bent over her flowers, humming softly.

“Grandma?” My voice breaks. I run toward her, heart in my mouth.

But when she looks up, her eyes aren’t hers—they’re glowing white.

This time, the Queen’s voice is gentle. “The second trial: your heart. Will you let go of the life you once knew if it means saving both worlds?”

Grandma’s figure steps forward, her expression kind but distant. “You were never meant to stay,” she says softly. “Liam will heal. I will rest. But if you remain here, our world will fade. The boundary is weakening. Choose, child—return and risk the fae realm, or stay and lose your home forever.”

Tears sting my eyes. “That’s not fair!”

“Power never is.”

I drop to my knees. My chest aches, torn between two worlds that feel like parts of my soul. I think of Liam—his laughter, his fierce protectiveness—and of this strange realm that hums beneath my skin, a place that somehow feels like destiny.

Then I hear his voice—Liam’s—echoing faintly through the air. “Elera… come home.”

I rise slowly. “I won’t choose one over the other,” I whisper. “There has to be a way for both to live.”

The Queen’s voice responds, colder now. “Then prove it.”

The world shatters again.

I’m standing on a narrow bridge suspended over a vast abyss. Shadows writhe below, whispering my fears, my doubts, every secret I’ve buried. The air is sharp, the bridge trembling beneath my feet.

This must be the final test.

Halfway across, a surge of energy rises from the depths. I stagger, gripping the railing as darkness coils around my legs. It’s trying to pull me down—feed on everything I’m afraid of losing.

“No!” I cry out, light sparking from my fingertips. The glow is fierce this time, wild and uncontrollable. It spreads across the bridge, pushing the shadows back. For the first time, I feel it—my power, raw and alive.

“Both realms are part of me,” I shout into the void. “I don’t have to choose. I’ll protect them both!”

The darkness screams, then bursts into a thousand shards of silver.

When I open my eyes, I’m back in the throne hall. The Queen stands before me, watching with an unreadable expression.

“You faced your reflection, your heart, and your fear,” she says softly. “And you refused to choose only one path.”

My knees give out, but I force myself to stand tall. “I’m not one or the other. I’m both.”

For a long moment, silence fills the hall. Then the Queen smiles—a rare, almost human smile.

“Then you have passed, Elera of Two Realms.”

Light blooms around me, warm and golden. The mark from my reflection now glows faintly on my collarbone—a crescent moon, pulsing softly with each heartbeat.

“Your power is awakened,” the Queen says. “And with it, your choice remains yours. The door to the human realm will open for you at dawn. But remember this—every light casts a shadow. What you awaken will follow you.”

Her words echo as the hall fades into mist.

And as darkness folds around me, I realize this is only the beginning.