The world around Henrry felt like it had shattered. The walls, the windows, the silence—it all crashed around him like a nightmare that wouldn't end. He was still holding his father, James, tightly in his arms. His sobs echoed through the ruined house as if trying to wake the lifeless body in his grasp. Mclery stood behind him, heartbroken, helpless. Two unfamiliar figures—a boy and a girl, both around their age—stood silently at the doorway.
They stepped inside.
"We don't have much time," the girl said softly but firmly. "We have to leave now. Henrry, your life is in danger. He could be back any moment"
But Henrry wasn't listening. His ears refused to listen anything but the silence left by his father's last breath. His mind was stuck in that one moment, over and over again—the shattered wall, the burning air, his father's wounded face.
Guilt tore at him like claws from the inside. 'It's all because of me,If I hadn't taken that stick...'
"Henrry!" Mclery tried again, stepping closer.
Henrry didn't look up.
"We need to go," the girl urged. "Please."
But Henrry still held onto his father's body like it was the only anchor left in the world. The boy moved forward and spoke with urgency, "If we don't leave now, he will find us again—and next time, none of us may survive."
Mclery's concern was growing. He crouched beside his friend and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Henrry… we have to go."
Suddenly, Henrry jerked Mclery's hand off and turned to him with tear-filled eyes blazing with fury.
"This is your fault too!" he snapped, his voice hoarse from crying. "You brought me into this. You wouldn't let me leave the stick… you made me keep it!"
Mclery took a step back, stung.
The girl exchanged a glance with the boy, then whispered something. Together, they gently lifted Henrry off the floor. He didn't fight. He had no strength left. As they began to move him, the girl asked urgently, "Where's the stick? We need it."
Henrry couldn't speak. With a blank stare, he raised his hand and pointed toward his room. The girl ran quickly inside. Meanwhile, Mclery, still trembling, looked back and noticed something lying near James' hand—a silver ring. James must've dropped it while trying to protect himself.
Mclery picked it up and held it tight in his fist. 'I'll give it to Henrry. It's the only thing he'll have left now.'
The girl returned, holding the stick.
"We're ready," she said, then looked at the boy. They both placed their hands and chanted something in unison:
"Drishti Mārg"
A glowing portal shimmered open in front of them—swirling lights and shifting shadows forming a circular door of magic in the air. It pulsed gently, beckoning them to step through.
"Let's go," the boy said.
"No!" Mclery stepped forward. "Where are you taking him? You can't just drag him away!"
Henrry, too, pulled back. "I don't want to go! I don't even know who you are!"
But before either of them could resist further, the portal began pulling them in—its energy wrapping around their bodies like invisible ropes. The girl reached for Henrry's hand and Mclery had gripped Henrry's hand tightly . The moment their skin touched, the portal reacted.
In an instant, the four of them were sucked in.
There was a whoosh of wind. A sensation like falling—and flying—at the same time. Colors they couldn't name blurred past their vision. And then, just as quickly as it had begun, it ended.
They stumbled forward and landed on soft grass.
Henrry gasped, looking around. They were standing in the middle of a vast, circular ground surrounded by tall trees that bent slightly inward, forming a perfect circle. The sky above was lavender, with twin moons shining dimly. Strange, glowing lanterns floated in the air, and dozens of people stood around the edge of the field—men, women, even children watching them silently wearing clothes of medieval european style.
Henrry and Mclery tried to make sense of what they were seeing. Some of the faces looked kind. Some looked suspicious. But all of them stared in silence, clearly waiting for something.
Mclery whispered, "Where… where are we?"
Before anyone could answer, Henrry swayed on his feet. His vision blurred. His body felt heavy—like all the exhaustion, grief, and shock had hit him at once.
Then Mclery, too, staggered, blinking hard. He tried to speak but couldn't form the words.
Within seconds, their eyes rolled shut.
And both boys collapsed to the ground, unconscious.