In a bustling market of 1950, Aurora carried a stack of goods—her mother's bread for sale. Her beauty was undeniable, with fair skin and striking emerald-green eyes that wandered curiously around her. From time to time, men passing by offered their help. Aurora refused. She knew their intentions. Just a ploy.
"Hey, Marcus! Don't eat that bread! Oh, for heaven's sake!"
Aurora chased after her pet cat, who had snatched a loaf of bread and dashed toward the harbor. Unbeknownst to her, a purple object fell into her basket. High above, a Phoenix soared across the sky, its tears carried away by the wind.
"You naughty thing! I told you, this bread isn't for you to eat yet. I'll give you some when we're home."
Aurora scolded, cradling the white feline in her arms.
A small line had begun to form at her stall.
"Would you like this? How much?" Aurora asked a man clad in a brown cloak and hood standing before her. He had a fairly handsome face, with piercing blue eyes.
"Hmm… Just two, please."
"Would you be willing to sell me that bread basket of yours?"
Aurora hand paused mid-motion as she looked at the blue-eyed man, puzzled. She raised an eyebrow and chuckled lightly.
"Oh, of course not. How would I bring the rest of my goods home then? Here you go."
She handed over the order. But the moment their hands touched, the man spoke a sentence that made Aurora freeze.
"I hope you're prepared to become a part of me. Or perhaps… you have something interesting to offer? How ready are you to die?"
"Wait—what do you mean by that?"
The man offered no reply. He turned and left immediately. Aurora stood still, confused, watching the man's disappearing figure.
Weird. Another crazy man, she grumbled inwardly, then returned to tending her customers.
***
Aurora huffed as she entered her bedroom.
"Stupid lunatic! What did he mean by that? As if I've done something wrong worthy of execution. Right, Marcus?"
She sighed, placing her cat on the bed and feeding him some shredded boiled fish. Now, she lives all on her own
Aurora lived and grew up in the village of Caltheria, part of the Kingdom of Evandor. Evandor, the southernmost kingdom, held the largest territory and boasted the most formidable military. With pristine forests and minimal pollution from factories, it had become the top tourist destination for neighboring kingdoms. It wasn't rare for merchants and travelers from other lands to do business here.
"Alright, Marcus. Let's see. What's in this basket? If it's a potion or poison, I won't hesitate to throw it away. Right?"
Her hands searched the bread basket. Her brows furrowed in confusion, and she tucked a strand of her long orange hair behind her ear.
"Hey… I don't see anything in here."
Aurora stood up, lifting her dress up to her shins, checking the basket and the surrounding area. She checked her dress pocket—nothing there either. What exactly was supposed to be in her basket?
Her gaze shifted. When she turned to the mirror, her hand instantly covered her mouth in shock. Around her neck, a necklace with a gleaming purple diamond pendant sparkled brightly. So beautiful!
Aurora didn't remember putting this on. In fact, she had never owned it. The gem shimmered as if infused with light. Where had it come from? Wait—
"Is magic… actually real?"
Aurora then looked beneath her bed and found a small burlap pouch. Inside were a folded parchment and a gleaming golden key. She had no idea what the paper was. But the symbol of a feather and sword drawn on it sparked a memory. She knew someone she could ask. Aurora remembered clearly—when she was ten, her father once told her a story.
A tale about immortal beings—vampires, werewolves, witches—whose very existence was debated. They once lived alongside humans, helping each other for centuries. But a great war among these immortals tore everything apart. Forests were destroyed. A cataclysmic earthquake followed. For seven days, the sky turned black. Crimson lightning flashed every hour, destroying every house it struck as if searching for the culprits. On the eighth day, a thick fog descended, blinding the land for twelve hours. From that day forward, the immortals vanished as if swallowed by the earth.
Her father insisted they still existed—but chose to live far from humans. Until one day, a farmer was found dead in his field. Long claw marks ran from his neck down to his chest. Some said the story was true. Others claimed it was merely the tale of a wandering storyteller. Regardless, as night approached, all women and children were required to return home before the orange hue of dusk faded.
A sudden chill crept up Aurora's spine.
Good thing that story wasn't from her time. Staying indoors at night? That would be absurd. She wouldn't miss the prince's welcoming festival tonight! Markets, trinkets, and oh—the food!
No way she was skipping that. She had to see her best friend—Chessy—right now.
Aurora headed out to Chessy's house, just 130 meters away, unaware of what she had left behind.
"Did you see that?"
"Yes. It came from Aurora's house. Why did that light appear?"
"Something's not right with Aurora."
Whispers spread among the villagers. Word of a dark violet light shooting from Aurora's home and piercing the sky began to circulate. The light—lasting no more than ten seconds—rekindled rumors long forbidden to be spoken.The Immortal Dimension.
Not far from Aurora's house, a man and woman exchanged glances. The moment they saw the purple light, they understood.
"We need to hurry," the woman said.
"Yes. We're running out of time," the hooded man replied.
"Remember, no drawing attention."
The man nodded in silence.
***
"Hey, Aurora. Slow down! My feet hurt trying to keep up with your pace," complained Chessy as she lifted her blue dress high, her hand in Aurora's grip.
They were more like sisters than friends. Since childhood, they'd always been together. Remembering how they first met made Chessy smile. Her long brown hair fluttered in the northern wind.
At last, they arrived at the grand celebration to welcome Prince Edward VII of Evandor back from his diplomatic expedition.
Inside the palace, candles hung from the ceiling in crystal holders, casting a soft glow over silk gowns and velvet cloaks. Music floated from a hidden orchestra, weaving between the whispers of nobles.
Prince Edward stood in the center of the grand hall, his eyes no longer as warm as they were during the morning's welcome. Clad in a golden mantle embroidered with fine thread, his shoulders bore a weight heavier than before.
At the edge of the room, flames began to dance. Three dancers from the kingdom's southern lands slowly entered the marble circle. They carried torches in both hands—forming spirals of fire that not only heated the air but ignited the tension in the room. Their movements evolved into symbols—of struggle, loyalty, and betrayal.
Each spin cast shadows across the palace walls—and the prince stared, as if reliving every bloodstained path he had walked to return here.
Beyond the tall stone walls, in the wide field outside the palace, commoners had gathered.
Paper lanterns began to float one by one into the night sky, carrying hope in the eyes of those below. Children ran barefoot, anklets jingling with each step, while the men drank spiced liquor, eyes fixed upward.
Fabric tents lined the streets, offering handmade jewelry, painted portraits of heroes, and warm foods—roasted nuts in bread, boar stew, and candied fruits only sold during festivals like this. At the far end of the tents, Aurora and Chessy sipped hot chocolate, watching the lanterns soar.
Aurora glanced at Chessy, who was earnestly praying with her eyes closed. She smiled as Chessy looked back and handed her the drink.
"What's your wish, Chessy? You look so serious," Aurora asked, curious.
"It's nothing. Really."
"You're probably wishing to see Prince Edward's face, aren't you? Come on, tell me."
Aurora laughed, teasing her friend as Chessy pouted.
"Of course I am. But this time, I'm not telling you," Chessy said with a smirk before turning her gaze to the sky again.
"There's a myth… If we enter the immortal world, we become immortal too. If you were in that world, what would you want to be?"
"Me? Maybe a fairy. That sounds cool. What about you?"
"I'd like to be a rock," she laughed. "They don't carry any burden."
Aurora laughed along. "You're ridiculous."
Amid the crowd, a little girl played a small flute. The melody was simple, yet it stirred something deep within the people of Evandor—a forgotten longing, a call to something lost. Above their heads, the shadows of royal lanterns glimmered like artificial stars.
And in the distance...
A red light was being prepared—by the royal guards.
Not aimed at the sky, but straight toward Aurora and Chessy.
"Aurora... look out! Get down!"
Aurora fell face-first as Chessy shoved her aside. Her heart pounded wildly as shouts and screams erupted around them. People fled the explosion.
Aurora rose, only to see Chessy lying still, blood trickling from her lips.
"CHESSY!" Aurora cried, rushing to hold her dearest friend.
Chessy's vision blurred. Behind Aurora, five men stood. One pulled back a flaming arrow.
Chessy looked into Aurora's tear-filled eyes. She knew that arrow was meant for her.
"Run… Aurora," she whispered with urgency, her chest burning with pain. She murmured something faintly, sensing an unfamiliar energy rising around her.
Aurora gasped at her words, shaking her head.
"No! I won't leave you!"
"Forget me, Aurora! They're after you. Run—now—or you'll die!"
Aurora's chest tightened in anguish.
"Take care of yourself, Chessy."
With no time to think, Aurora bolted through the panicked crowd. Her breath quickened. Adrenaline surged. She turned sharply, disappearing into the woods.
There was only one goal in her mind now—to reach the immortal dimension, as guided by the glowing pendant.
***