I drew closer. His form was clear where the world was not, as though he had been anchored here even as everything else around him faded. There was no mistaking him, no distortion in the lines of his face or the steadiness of his posture—and yet something about him felt…unreachable. Like a figure seen across water, present and yet separated by something unseen.
“Evander.” I said his name more firmly this time, willing him to answer.
Still he didn’t turn. For a moment, I wondered if he could hear me at all. Then, faint enough that I might have imagined it… “Mirelle.” He exhaled the word like a sigh, not the greeting I’d been anticipating when he sent me through the portal. “You shouldn’t be here.” The words were not sharp, but resigned, as though he had surrendered to that truth long before I arrived.
Something in my chest tightened. “How could I not come? Nothing in the world—or any other—would prevent me from finding you. Not in waking, nor in dreams.”
A subtle shift passed through his posture, so slight I might have missed it had I not been watching for it.
“I appreciate the sentiment,” he said quietly, his voice catching as though emotion pressed too tightly against it. “More than you can possibly know. But it’s futile; I’ve drifted too far out of reach.”
The defeated finality in his voice sent a flicker of unease through me. I refused to let it take hold. I took another step closer until I finally reached him, close enough now that I could see the tension held rigidly in his shoulders, the unnatural stillness that had settled into him as something closer to surrender.
“You don’t get to decide that,” I said fiercely. “And I know deep down you don’t mean that.”
For a moment, he didn’t move. Then slowly, reluctantly, he turned. When his gaze met mine, I saw it clearly—the distance he had forced between himself and everything else, the careful detachment that allowed him to endure this surreal place without breaking.
But beneath that, I was certain that the man I had come to love had not vanished entirely.
His brow furrowed faintly, confusion threading through the weariness tightening his expression, as though my presence here unraveled something he had worked very hard to hold together.
Pain tightened his expression. “You shouldn’t have come,” he said again, quieter this time. “There’s nothing left for you here…you know, better than I, that I have to stay here, to anchor the curse. You’re the only hope for my people, for finding a way to wake them before the land fades entirely and the curse wins.” His gaze flickered past me towards the fading horizon. “There are other kingdoms not trapped by a curse, other lives waiting for you beyond this one. If you can’t wake my people—you can still have a life after this.”
I shook my head before he could finish. “You know me far too well to believe I would ever do that. You gave me the chance to wake up, now I’ll do the same for you.”
Something in his expression shifted, fragile and uncertain, as though he did not quite know how to bear the weight of my resolve.
I took another step closer, closing the final distance between us. “I’m not leaving you behind. Not when you’re still here.”
His gaze searched mine, as though looking for doubt or hesitation, anything he could use to send me away.
“How can I leave you?” I whispered, the words catching despite my effort to steady them. “Not when you—” My voice faltered with all I still couldn’t confess.
Not when you mean everything to me. Not when you chose me. Not when I would choose you, again and again.
I swallowed, forcing myself to continue. “Not only because of what you mean to me…but because everything that’s happened—” The truth pressed hard against my chest, sharp and unavoidable. “I’m the one who caused the curse.”
“You’re not to blame for the curse,” he said solemnly. “I am.”
I stared at him, certain he was only trying to ease the burden of my confession “You’re not to blame for my curiosity getting the better of me, especially after you warned me.”
For a fleeting moment, something almost like a smile touched his lips. “I’m glad you remember our time together.” But it vanished as quickly as it had come, his expression sobering. He shook his head. “No, I know I’m to blame…because I was the only one who remained awake after it was cast.”
I frowned, confusion threading through me. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“It has everything to do with it,” he replied. He turned slightly, his gaze drifting past me, as though looking back through time itself.
“When the curse was first cast, I didn’t understand it. I had only heard fragments—legends surrounding the crown, half-forgotten warnings passed down through generations. I had no way of knowing what it was capable of.” His voice grew quieter. “I don’t even know how long it’s been since the kingdom drifted into slumber; time hasn’t moved as it should, blurring and stretching.”
“I’ve had nothing but time to study it. In an effort to understand it.” His gaze returned to mine, sharper now. “The crown was never meant to destroy the kingdom. It was meant todetermine the true heir, to test whether the one who would rule was worthy of the throne…or whether they would fail beneath its weight.” A faint, humorless breath escaped him.
I frowned. “Wait, that’s not what I saw.” I told him of my visions, my understanding of the past, and my own release of the curse.
But Evander only smiled sadly. “You didn’t see everything. The curse was created by a wizard who wanted his protégé to take the throne instead of my ancestor. He prophesied that there was weakness in my line—that someday the crown would find an unworthy ruler and disaster would ensue.” He drew a shaky breath. “Growing up, I was afraid to touch the crown in fear of what it might show, afraid it would confirm what I had always suspected—that I was never meant to wear it.” His expression darkened. “And it did. How else would the curse have been cast if not for my inadequacy?”
Silence stretched between us, heavy with the weight of his revelation. “A rather drastic safeguard,” I finally murmured.
He gave a slight shrug, though there was no real indifference in it. “It’s ancient magic—older than the kingdom as we know it. It was forged when rival clans vied for the throne, when power was taken rather than earned. For them…this was a solution. For me…a condemnation.”
