Light wrapped around them—a dazzling, blinding glow that suffused every inch of space with its weightless, all-consuming brilliance. It wasn't so much a journey as a wild, disorienting fling through a cosmic blender cranked to "puree," hurling them into a vortex with no true up or down. Only the raw, feral scream of wind and the crackling magic, tearing relentlessly through air, memory, and something far more profound, filled the void.
Then—impact.
They crashed down like disgruntled parcels misplaced into an entirely foreign dimension. Mei-Ling hit the earth first, her face colliding forcefully with a chaotic tangle of brambles and shattered dignity. Close behind, Hoki's limbs spun in a frantic pinwheel before he skidded into a muddy patch, the impact echoing like the woeful squish of a misbehaving pudding. Fror belly-flopped into a shallow, murmuring stream, sputtering and blinking as though he were being reborn in the most terrible, farcical bath imaginable.
A sudden flicker of light split the heavy air yet again—and three more figures tumbled down in a riot of limbs, matted fur, and exasperated indignation. Yueli descended with an almost balletic grace even in freefall, twisting midair before landing neatly in a crouched stance that was only slightly marred by an unexpected "Oof." Xueyi arrived in less spectacular fashion, sprawling onto her back with a groan as she muttered, "I'm never trusting your portal calculations again."
Then came Gui. He did not burst forth in chaotic disarray but emerged with a regal, disdainful calm, gliding slowly through the radiant light with the measured gait of a creature well-versed in majesty. His enormous paws met the ground silently, and for a moment he stood perfectly still amidst the swaying grass, his muscles rippling beneath his immaculate white fur. His narrowed eyes fixed the surreal scene with an air of aristocratic offense, as if the entire occurrence were a personal affront.
And finally—poof—Mixy arrived: a frenzied blur of tangled fluff and high-pitched yowling. The tiny furball shot out of the portal sideways, rebounded off Xueyi's back, rolled with comedic insistence three times over, and plopped squarely into a nearby puddle with a physics-defying splash. There he sat, soggy, utterly unimpressed, vibrating with a judgment that was as palpable as it was adorable.
Above them, the once-crimson, menacing sky had softened to a pale blue, brushed with languid streaks of delicate clouds. A warm, whispering breeze rustled through the tall grass in a serene murmur—a calm that bordered on the eerie, as though the entire world had suddenly pressed the pause button on its endless bustle.
For a long moment, Mei-Ling remained still, her breath catching as the once-radiant rune in her hand, now dim and lifeless, dangled limply in her palm. Slowly, the group began rousing, each motion a small rebellion against the gravity of their ordeal. Hoki groaned in protest, Fror attempted to wipe stream water from his tangled beard, and Yueli carefully brushed the remnants of leaves from her shoulder. Xueyi lay sprawled in a dazed arc of contemplation, rethinking every choice that had led to this moment, while Gui let out a single, dismissive huff and padded over to settle on a dry patch of moss, exuding the comforting gravitas of a furry mountain god. Meanwhile, Miyx continued to sulk in silent indignation.
"Where...?" Fror mumbled, blinking as he wrung out his soaked tunic. "Is this...?"
"...ZvjezdanoNórland," Gror replied in a husky, measured tone. "We made it."
"No," Mei-Ling whispered, pulling herself up with an inner resolve. "Not just the surface...we're back."
The word "back" hung strangely in the air, as if the familiar place they returned to had somehow forgotten them in the prolonged space between breaths. Feredis was the last to land, sprawling flat on her back with an exasperated groan. "I swear to every divine entity listening—if that portal left claw marks on my spine, someone's getting hexed."
Gui yawned with unaffected nonchalance, while Mixy punctuated the scene with a dramatic sneeze. An all-encompassing silence then fell, thick and watchful—a silence devoid of birdsong or the chirp of insects, broken only by the gentle rustle of wind through the grass and the distant creak of trees as if they were straining to mute their own voices.
"It's too quiet," Hoki muttered in a low tone.
Fror reached out to touch the nearest tree, his fingers skimming rough bark. "Everything looks the same...but it doesn't feel like it remembers us," he observed quietly.
Mei-Ling held the now-quiet rune tighter, her eyes scanning the hazy horizon with desperate longing, as if willing the world to manifest the answers she sought. "Aelric," she whispered, the name barely audible.
And far beyond the clearing—in the echoing depths of a vast stone hall where ancient banners hung weighed down by layers of dust—a solitary figure sat on a timeworn throne. The chamber was suspended in stillness, the crown resting upon his brow gleaming subtly in a narrow shaft of light. He sat in deliberate silence, one large paw curled languidly over the edge of the armrest, not waiting, not pondering, not even daring to dream.
Yet something ancient and indefinable began to stir. His breath caught—not due to thoughtful reflection or the murmur of old memories, but from a sensation deeper than thought, like a whispered word traversing a void that spanned entire worlds. He couldn't clearly remember the origin of that word, yet his very soul recoiled in recognition.
And in that same moment, Mei-Ling, gazing out over the field that had once felt like home, felt a profound stirring within herself—a silent communion with everything that had been and all that was yet to come.
The END