Princess: Blades of Time and Starlight

"Shit, now I've lost you, Kai," I whispered, my voice trembling. A sharp ache spread through my chest, as if my heart were splintering piece by piece, unable to hold the weight of his absence.

Just then, the blade at my side pulsed with a faint blue glow, and a sudden wave of dizziness hit me. My knees buckled, and the world around me dissolved into shadows and flickering light.

I was no longer in the cave.

I stood in a memory not entirely mine—yet it felt painfully familiar. A field of silver grass swayed under a violet sky, and there he was—Kai, or perhaps Kael—standing beneath a twisted tree with a woman who looked exactly like me. She was crying. He held her face with both hands and whispered something I couldn't hear, before turning away… disappearing into the mist.

"Don't follow me," his voice echoed faintly in my ears. "If you do, you won't survive what comes next."

My breath caught. That was me. That was him. A memory buried deep—one I had never lived, yet felt down to my bones.

The vision faded.

The cold silence of the cave returned like a slap to the face. My pulse raced as I stumbled forward, panic clawing at my throat.

"Kai!" I shouted, my voice echoing off the stone. "Please, answer me! Where are you?"

Nothing.

Then… a whisper. Soft. Distant. Warped like it came through water.

"I'm here, Anna… but not the way you remember."

My blood ran cold.

"Kai?" I called again, stepping forward, my hand tightening around the hilt of the blade as its faint glow pulsed in time with my heartbeat. The air ahead shimmered—like heat waves off desert sand—and the cave seemed to stretch unnaturally before me, twisting into a path that hadn't been there before.

Each step I took felt heavier, like I was wading through something unseen. The darkness clung to me, pressing close, but the voice kept calling, softer now—"This way..."—a thread I couldn't ignore.

My fingers brushed the cave wall for balance as memories not mine flickered in the edges of my vision—me dancing beneath starlight, a battlefield soaked in ash, Kai's hands bloodied as he cradled someone… me?

I stumbled, breath ragged, heart hammering.

"I'm coming," I whispered hoarsely. "Just… hold on, Kai. Please."

Then the path opened suddenly into a small hollow, and in the center stood a shape—familiar, but wrong. Twisted by shadow, his face obscured, yet unmistakably him.

"Kai?" I breathed again, stepping closer.

The figure tilted its head, eyes glowing faintly.

"Not all of me made it back," he said. "And not all of you should be here."

I felt a phantom touch brush against my arm—gentle, almost protective—but when I looked around, no one was there. It was as if I were being lifted, carried by something unseen. Then I heard it—a small but familiar voice, soft as a memory, whispering, "No worries, Anna. I'm here for you... and we'll get through this together."

My breath caught.

That voice… Kai.

It was unmistakable—his warmth, his steadiness. The way he always spoke to me when I was on the edge of falling apart. But it wasn't coming from any direction I could place. It was everywhere and nowhere at once, wrapping around me like a memory made real.

"Kai?" I whispered, eyes scanning the dim space. "Where are you? Please... let me see you."

The blade at my side pulsed again, stronger this time, as if drawn to his presence. A shimmer appeared in the air just ahead, the edges of his silhouette forming—flickering between shadow and light.

His voice came again, a little clearer this time: "I'm close, Anna. Just hold on to me. I won't let go."

I was confused—how could I hold onto him when he wasn't near me, not anywhere to be seen? Yet my blade glowed brightly, as if he was right beside me, just out of reach. A surge of hope battled with a growing ache inside me—hope that he was still here somehow, but pain from the cruel distance between us.

Relief crashed through me like a wave, but beneath it lingered a shadow of fear. The distance between us had shrunk, but something still kept him from fully returning.

I took a step forward, breath held tight in my chest. "Kai..." I reached out slowly, fingers trembling as they moved toward his form—part light, part shadow.

For a heartbeat, my hand passed through nothing.

But then—I felt it.

Warmth.

Familiar.

His hand met mine, ghostly but real enough to make my breath hitch. Tears welled in my eyes as I whispered, "I can feel you..."

Kai's gaze softened, but there was pain in it—like he was holding back everything just to stay present. "You shouldn't be here, Anna. It's not safe... not yet."

"I'm not losing you again."

As the words left my lips, the blade responded with a sudden pulse—a radiant burst of light that enveloped us both. Time seemed to bend around us, and the cave, the shadows, even the tension in the air—all of it dissolved in a flash of blinding blue.

When my vision cleared, we were no longer in the cave.

We stood in a wide meadow beneath a twilight sky streaked with gold and violet. The air was warm and carried the scent of wildflowers and distant smoke. I looked down—my hand was still in his, but now it felt solid, anchored. Real.

I turned to him.

Kai was beside me, not flickering or fading, but whole. He looked younger—so did I. Different clothes, different time. I realized then… this wasn't a dream. It was a memory.

Our memory.

He looked at me, the way he used to when he thought I wasn't watching. "Do you remember this?" he asked quietly.

I nodded slowly, heart racing. "I—I think I do. This was before everything fell apart… before the war."

He gave a faint smile, haunted. "The last time we were truly happy."

Tears welled in my eyes as the memory settled deeper, and I could feel it all—his arms around me, the weight of an unspoken goodbye, the knowledge that we were running out of time.

I turned to him fully, my voice barely above a whisper. "Kai… if this is really our memory, if you're really here… then maybe you can hear me now—not just the you from then, but the real you. The one I'm trying to reach."

He blinked, and something shifted in his eyes. The light around us flickered, like the memory was trembling under the weight of something new.

"Anna…" he murmured, his voice suddenly layered—one soft and nostalgic, the other deeper, worn by everything we'd survived.

I stepped closer, heart pounding. "You're in danger, Kai. Wherever you are, something's pulling you away from me—from yourself. I don't know if this is a memory or a connection, or some piece of the blade's magic showing mercy, but I need you to fight. I need you to come back."

His expression twisted with pain. "I've tried… but something's holding me there. It's not just darkness—it's a part of me I never wanted to face."

"Then let me face it with you," I said, reaching for his hand again. "This time, we don't run. We finish what we started… together."

Kai smirked and said in a teasing tone, "Come on, Anna—wake up already. You've fallen asleep in the middle of a cave. What kind of warrior naps during a mission?"

For a moment, I almost laughed. His voice, his expression—it felt real. Too real.

But something was off.

The light around him didn't cast a shadow. The blade at my side remained cold and dim, where before it had pulsed with warmth in his presence. And deep inside, a pressure throbbed behind my eyes, like my mind was pushing against a wall I couldn't see.

No... this isn't real.

I took a step back, heart racing. "You're not him," I whispered. "Not really. This is another illusion, isn't it?"

The smirk on his face faltered, just slightly—enough to confirm the truth.

Gritting my teeth, I gripped the hilt of the blade, now warm in my palm. I focused, breathing through the fear and confusion, grounding myself in everything I knew to be real: the weight of the blade, the ache in my chest, the memory of his true voice.

"You don't get to keep me here," I said through clenched teeth. "I choose what's real."

The world around me trembled, the illusion cracking like glass under strain. Light spilled through the fractures—blinding and pure.

And I pushed.

With every ounce of will, I shattered the lie.