The morning sun rose gently over the silver fields of Jepka, bathing the sisters' home in a warm golden glow. The valley was calm — birds darted through the mist, and faint winds brushed against the wooden walls of their cottage. But something in the air felt… incomplete.
Ardelle noticed first.
She was standing by the hearth, pouring steaming tea into clay cups, when she realized one chair at the table was empty.
"Where's Saehwa?" she asked softly, glancing around.
Eira, who was folding blankets near the window, paused and frowned. "She wasn't in her room?"
Lyra tightened the bandage around Ethan's arm, her fiery hair catching the sunlight. "Probably off brooding somewhere. You know her — always wandering off when things get complicated."
"Maybe she doesn't want to help us," Noah muttered under his breath, not meeting anyone's eyes. His voice was quiet, almost guilty.
Naya looked up sharply. "Don't say that. Saehwa might be distant, but her heart is kind. She just… hides it well."
Kai, sitting cross-legged on the floor, spoke up between bites of bread. "Still, it's been all night. What if she got lost? Or—"
Lyra cut in. "—She's Saehwa. She doesn't get lost. maybe she just wanted some time alone. She's dramatic like that."
Eira shot her a look. "Lyra."
"What?" Lyra said, crossing her arms.
Ardelle sighed, placing the teapot down gently. "Enough. We'll give her time. Saehwa always returns when she's ready. If she doesn't return by dusk, we'll go look for her."
But as the hours passed, their unease deepened.
The sun climbed higher, and laughter that once filled their mornings was replaced by quiet whispers and the sound of the wind through the open windows.
Jimin, sitting on a cushion near the wall, stared silently at the patch of sunlight on the floor. His fingers traced invisible shapes. "Maybe she's gone for good," he said softly, almost to himself.
Ethan looked up from his seat, his tone calm but heavy. "We can't assume that. She risked herself to save us. That's not something someone heartless would do."
Noah nodded faintly. "Still… it's strange. She didn't even tell anyone."
Naya exhaled, brushing her hands against the soil pot beside her bed — green light briefly glowing between her fingers. "She'll come back," she said quietly. "I can feel it."
And just as she spoke —
The door burst open.
A cold gust swept through the room, carrying the smell of dust, parchment, and frost. Everyone turned sharply.
Saehwa stood in the doorway, her hair tangled by the wind, strands clinging to her pale face. Her cloak was torn and dusted with dirt, and her hands clutched a thick, ancient book covered in faint blue runes. Her eyes — those calm, glacier-like eyes — shimmered with exhaustion and wild excitement.
"Saehwa!" Ardelle hurried forward, light glowing faintly around her palms. "Where have you been?"
Saehwa dropped the heavy book on the table with a thud.
"I didn't have time to sleep," she said flatly, brushing dirt from her hands. "I was… searching."
Eira blinked. "Searching where?"
Saehwa finally looked up — her voice soft, yet charged with something that made the air tremble. "The old castle library."
Lyra gaped. "The ruins? Alone? Are you insane? There's a death shield around that place!"
"I prefer the word determined," Saehwa replied dryly. "And the shield isn't what people think. It only covers the castle's surface — not the library beneath it. I found a way in." Saehwa replied dryly, though her lips curved into the faintest smirk.
Kai leaned forward, eyes wide. "What did you find?"
Saehwa opened the book carefully. Dust rose like old ghosts. The pages shimmered faintly with runes of gold and blue, and her voice softened."This isn't just a record. It's the Book of Wonders — the personal journal of Jepka's last king."
Everyone leaned in.
Saehwa continued, her voice low and steady. "Stories of a worlds that exists beyond ours. many worlds, and in all of them this is a place without magic, where humans built their own stars — where light doesn't come from spells but from machines — ruled by technology and stars of metal that cross the sky."
Noah's eyes widened. "That… sounds like airplanes."
Eira frowned slightly. "Machines that create light…?"
Kai leaned forward. "That sounds like… electricity."
Saehwa looked at him, her expression unreadable. "Then it's true."
Ethan stood slowly, his voice steady but filled with disbelief. "You're saying someone here — in Jepka — already knew about our world?"
Saehwa nodded. "Not just someone. that Someone was our king, — The King was fascinated by creation — he and one of his son built things the world had never seen. The book describes their inventions"
Noah's brow furrowed. "inventions? Like… Machine engines?"
"Exactly," Saehwa said, eyes narrowing in thought. "But there's more. His son — Prince Alden — built something extraordinary. A device that could open a path to other worlds. He called it The Gate Engine."
Ethan leaned forward, stunned. "So, that's how we—"
"Yes," Saehwa said quietly. "That's how you got here. Somehow, that Gate Engine was activated again after years."
The room fell utterly silent.
Lyra blinked and frowned. "But if that's true, where's the machine now?
Saehwa flipped to the last few brittle pages — sketches of towers, strange circles, and a sealed door beneath stone. "I guess it buried with the castle — in the war when darkness destroyed his family and castle. King put a protective barrier around it. Since then, no one has ever entered."
Kai's brow furrowed. "war? Darkness?"
Ardelle nodded and said, "yeah, darkness is a witch who kill king and king's family for the magical crown but before she take it, king build a death barrier around the castle to save it."
Naya's voice trembled. "The barrier… it's still there"
Saehwa nodded slowly. "Yes. It's why the castle is forbidden. The king's shield still guards what's left of his son's creation and other secrets."
Eira glanced toward the window, where the ancient silhouette of the castle loomed far in the mist. "So that's where the answer lies."
Ardelle breath caught softly. "Then there's hope."
Jimin, who had been quiet this whole time, finally spoke — his voice low, trembling. "Then… we can go home?"
Everyone looked at him. His eyes reflected the pale sunlight — fragile, uncertain, but filled with yearning.
Saehwa met his gaze, and for a moment, the ice in her eyes seemed to thaw.
"Yes," she said finally. "If the Gate Engine still exists… yes. You can, you all can go home to your families."
A flicker of hope sparked among them — fragile but real.
Lyra's voice broke the silence. "Then what are we waiting for? You said you entered the library beneath the castle — can't we go in that way and reach the machine?"
Saehwa's smile faded. She turned toward the window, her voice quiet but grave."No. The library isn't what it used to be."
"What do you mean?" Ardelle asked.
Saehwa closed the book gently, her fingers lingering on its cold surface. "The library stretches beneath the entire castle — endless halls filled with thousands of doors. Each one leads to something different: forgotten rooms, traps, or worlds swallowed by shadow. Only one door leads to the heart of the castle But…"
Eira swallowed. "But no one knows which door it is."
Saehwa nodded slowly, her gaze distant. "Exactly. And every wrong door awakens the creatures that guard the forgotten knowledge — things not meant to be seen by mortals. who used to protect the castle before as guards of the castle"
Silence fell once more, heavy as stone.
Kai whispered, "So even finding the right door could mean walking through death."
Ardelle expression hardened — calm, but unyielding. "Yes. But if we want to reach the castle… if we want to bring you home — that's the path we must take."
Outside, the winds of Jepka began to stir — cool and whispering, carrying the scent of ancient stone and secrets buried too long.
And as the sisters gathered around the book, one thought lingered in all their hearts thunder rumbled faintly across the distant hills — as if the old castle itself had heard her words.
And somewhere deep beneath the ruins of Jepka, the Book of Wonders stirred faintly in her hands — as if remembering the last time someone dared to open the doors of another world.