The doorway didn't give me time.
It never does.
I woke before dawn with my chest burning, the kind of pain that doesn't belong to the body but still hurts like it does. The room was dark, lit only by the faint glow of magic seeping through the palace walls.
The doorway hovered near the window.
Silent. Patient.
Waiting.
I sat up slowly, my hands shaking. Every instinct screamed the same thing: If you ignore it, something will break.
Not later.
Now.
I dressed quietly and stepped into the hall, barefoot on cold stone. The palace felt different at night—less alive, like it was holding its breath. Even the magic seemed wary of me.
I didn't mean to see Eryx.
But he was there, standing in the courtyard, staring up at the sky as if he already knew.
"You're leaving," he said.
I froze.
He didn't turn around. He didn't need to.
"I felt it," he continued softly. "The world tightened. Like it does before a storm."
I walked toward him, every step heavier than the last. "I wasn't going to say goodbye."
"That would've hurt more."
"I know."
The sky above us dimmed, the stars pulling away like they were afraid to witness this. Magic hates endings. It resists them until the very last second.
Eryx finally turned to face me.
His expression wasn't angry.
That hurt worse.
"How long?" he asked.
"I don't know," I said honestly. "Time doesn't… work the same."
He nodded once, like he'd expected that answer.
"So you'll come back," he said. Not a question.
I opened my mouth.
Closed it.
The truth sat heavy on my tongue. Every time I came back, it got harder. Every time I stayed away, the pull weakened. One day, I wouldn't be able to return at all.
"I'll try," I said.
The magic flared violently.
The ground beneath us cracked.
Eryx laughed quietly, bitter. "Even the world knows that's a lie."
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
He stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the warmth of him, the steady proof that he was real. "Don't apologize for surviving," he said. "Just don't pretend it doesn't hurt."
My chest tightened.
"I don't want to forget you," I said, voice breaking. "Every time I leave, I lose something."
His hands trembled as he cupped my face. "Then remember this."
He kissed me like it was the last time.
Because it was.
The doorway surged brighter, pulling at me like gravity. Pain lanced through my head—sharp, cruel. Memories slipped through my fingers like water.
His laugh.
The color of his eyes.
The way magic reacted when he said my name.
"I love you," he said suddenly.
The words landed like a wound.
"I know," I replied, tears blurring my vision. "That's why I have to go."
The world screamed.
The sky fractured violently, cracks of white light spreading across it. Somewhere, something ancient woke—and it was angry.
Eryx stepped back, jaw tight, eyes shining. "If you stay," he said, voice steady despite everything, "this world survives."
"And if I leave?"
He swallowed. "We'll endure. Or we won't."
The doorway pulled harder.
I reached for him one last time, brushing my fingers against his sleeve.
"I'm not choosing another world," I whispered. "I'm choosing not to destroy this one."
His smile was heartbreaking. "That's still choosing."
Then the universe tore me away.
Light swallowed everything.
When I opened my eyes, the magic was gone.
The sky was gray.
Rain fell endlessly.
And I knew—without being told—that I had arrived in the tragical universe.
And this time, love would not be gentle.