CHAPTER 110: CHAPTER 110: SHATTERED ILLUSIONS.

Edna peeked through the slightly opened door, her tiny head emerging like a cautious rabbit. Even as a child, she possessed an unusual sharpness, a keen awareness of her surroundings that made her seem older than her years.

The faintest sound, the softest movement, could alert her to danger. That acute hearing had served her well tonight. She had heard her mother’s scream, faint yet piercing, before anyone else could. It had drawn her to the door and her small body shivered with both fear and curiosity.

Calithar froze as he caught sight of the little girl. She had a very unusual color of hair.

What was a child doing here?

He had not expected a child to peer around the corner, as though waiting for permission to emerge. For a moment, the world seemed to still. It can’t be...

He turned toward Elena, his eyes wide, searching for answers he was not sure he wanted. The shock rooted him to the spot. His lips parted, but no sound came at first. Then his voice broke through, trembling.

"Elena, is that... your child?"

Elena bit her lip at him, contemplating whether or not to tell him.

Then she nodded. What use was it keeping it away from him in the first place?

Her eyes softened as she stepped toward Eden, bending to scoop her into her arms. The little girl relaxed immediately in her embrace, her small fingers curling into the folds of her clothing. She carried her to Calithar slowly, trying as much as possible to compose herself.

"She is my child," she said quietly.

Calithar stumbled back, unsteady. The world around him seemed to blur at the edges. Shock and disbelief flooded through him.

His knees nearly buckled under the weight of the revelation. A child. That vermin’s child. His words got caught in his throat, failing him entirely.

No sound escaped. He was paralyzed.

He straightened, gathering the fragments of his composure. He moved, carefully toward her, as though each step carried the risk of shattering everything in sight.

But then it happened. A sudden, blinding headache slammed into him. Sharp and explosive pain erupted behind his eyes.

His vision spun violently. The room distorted, the edges of reality bending and twisting in ways that made his stomach churn. The ground beneath him swayed at his diminishing vision.

And then, Elena and Edna shifted before him. A twitch of a smile that became twisted and unnatural. Then more grotesquely.

Their forms began to elongate, features warping into shapes both horrifying and alien. Their eyes burned with unnatural light. Shadows coiled around their limbs as if reality itself rejected their forms.

Calithar’s stomach lurched. This wasn’t Elena. Not the world he knew. He was trapped within an ultimate dimension, one designed to ensnare the mind and bend perception to terror.

What had happened? Why was I transported to another realm?

The illusion pressed closer, a creeping dread that made his heartbeat pound so violently he feared it might burst through his chest. The grotesque forms of Elena and the boy advanced slowly.

Before they could reach him, Calithar leapt into the air, wings spreading wide as he propelled himself backward. The moment he jumped, the nightmare fractured around him. With an intense force of will, he vanished from the horrific scene.

He landed abruptly in his personal chambers within the palace, the mirror he had used to traverse dimensions now standing innocuously before him. He fell to his knees again, breathing heavily. The shock of the illusion and the knowledge of the child’s falseness flooded his thoughts simultaneously.

The relief he felt was almost overwhelming. Elena’s child had been a trick, a cruel fabrication. It had never existed.

Calithar smiled to himself. It was all a faux...or so he thought.

His mind immediately returned to the mirror.

He thought for a while before it hit him.

The witch.

The one who he had captured and had aided him before Xavriel had encapsulated him in that void.

Xavriel had taken her when he had been confined. After his release, Calithar had searched, but she was nowhere to be found. The prison that had held her, forged by the gods themselves, could not have been breached without outside intervention. She had not escaped alone. And yet, she had vanished without a trace.

He muttered softly, almost under his breath, "I need help."

But he knew he could not voice this need to anyone else. He could not let his vulnerability show. The witch had been his ally in secrecy even though it was against her will.

He was a god. A fallen one for that matter.

Without her, he was isolated. He considered the mirror once more.

He stared at it for a while, wondering just what must have gone wrong when a realization struck him suddenly. The crown carved at the top of the mirror, the symbol that should have indicated the correct placement, was upside down!

His pulse quickened. That must have been the cause of his earlier failure. He had not been sent to Elena’s realm but to the alternate dimension instead.

His snapped his fingers.

"Damnit." he cursed under his breath. That was pretty dumb but that meant all what he saw was a fake!

His Elena...his Calista was still waiting for him.

Calithar flipped the mirror to the correct position, ensuring the crown’s top pointed upward. This time, it gave a golden color giving him some reassurance that the magic within had not been lost but merely misdirected.

Before he could attempt again, a wave of the same numbing, disorienting pain that had overwhelmed him when his wings were renewed, hit hard at him.

His body tensed, his muscles quivering as he struggled to maintain his sanity.

His wings grew out of his back. It hadn’t since his fight with Xavriel. Why now?

It twitched involuntarily, their weight pressing down like mercury. Sweat beaded across his brow. He gritted his teeth, focusing every ounce of willpower he possessed.

Finally, after forcing himself to remain upright despite the pain, he placed his hand against the mirror. Its surface rippled beneath his touch, a liquid-like shimmer that signaled the portal was ready. With a deep, steadying breath, he willed himself through.

The sensation was immediate and overwhelming. Space twisted. Light tore at the edges of his vision. Sound fragmented into shards, and then all at once, he found himself standing in the familiar air of Elena’s true realm.

He could smell the earth, hear the faint trickle of air from the window.

And there she was. Elena. Real. Entirely herself.

She was unaware of his presence at first.

He watched her as though compelled as she moved as gentle as ever, preparing for her bath.

The sight should have been a private moment for her but for Calithar, it brought a mixture of relief and desire.

Every inch of her presence reassured him that this realm was true, untouched by illusions or manipulations.

He approached her silently, moving with the confidence of a god.

When he reached her, he spun her around and pressed a gentle, intimate kiss to her lips. The contact startled her. Her eyes widened, shining with shock and a flash of fear.

"Who are you... Calithar?!" she pressed her hands against his chest, pushing with all her might.

The exact same scenario that had played out in the alternate dimension took its course again.

Calithar was shot back by a sudden burst of energy from Elena.

"Calithar," she murmured, trembling as she gripped herself through her robe. "I cannot... I cannot go with you."

Her words were firm yet soft, a mixture of fear, reason, and sorrow. She stepped back slightly, trying to regain composure.

Before she could continue, Calithar was in front of her.

He reached out and grasped her wrist. His touch was gentle but unyielding, the magic of his power vibrating through her very being. The air around them shimmered as he whispered, "We cannot stay here. I know you don’t want to be here and I’ve come to take you back."

"What? No—"

"Elena come on—"

Calithar pulled her harder against his chest, wings spreading behind him in a beautiful but desperate arc.

His voice trembled as he cupped her face.

"It’s all in your head," he whispered, brushing his forehead against hers.

"That vermin has manipulated you into staying with him, my love. Please... come with me. I’ll take you home."

His words were pleading, but his grip was firm as it held her possessively.

Elena’s breath hitched. She tried to push at his shoulders, but his arm had already wrapped around her waist, locking her against him. Calithar leaned closer, as if trying to drown her resistance in affection alone.

His wings flexed, glowing faintly with that unstable divine power still rippling through him since his awakening. Wind began swirling around them, rattling the room as if sensing the shift in realms.

He lifted her slightly off the floor.

And that was when Elena’s eyes widened, fear slicing through her like a blade.

She screamed a loud, raw, piercing shriek strong enough to shatter any illusion of control. Her scream brought out long, tiny veins popping on her neck as the mark on her neck pulsed vibrantly.

So this only came while I’m in trouble?

Calithar jerked, wings flinching at the sudden sound. In that split-second of shock, her hand slipped from his grasp. And before he could tighten his hold again, Elena fell.

Her body dropped out of his arms just as his wings gave a powerful beat and they both vanished.

Except only he completed the crossing, leaving her behind.

Calithar tore through dimensions at an impossible speed, the spaces between realms flashing in disjointed colors of violets, blacks and iridescent lightning.

His wings bent inward, the tips burning with friction as the torrent of unstable magic guided his path.

He didn’t even realize what had happened.

He believed Elena was still with him.

He believed he was returning home with the woman he had risked everything to reclaim.

But the moment he slipped through the final rift, something else slipped in too

from the very edge of a fractured alternate reality.

A different Elena.

Not his.

Not the original.

A version of her who had been standing directly in the crossfire of the dimensional tear when he left her world.

A version who had been pulled through like a loose thread caught in a vacuum.

She appeared beside him the instant he materialized in his palace.

But he didn’t know...

The golden floor beneath Calithar’s feet solidified, the flicker of dimensional winds fading around him.

He spun around quickly, wings rising.

And there she was.

Elena.

Standing quietly.

Breathing softly.

Eyes wide and glassy.

His heart nearly broke with relief.

A choked laugh escaped him as he stepped forward and swept her into his arms, burying his face in her hair. He inhaled deeply, uncaring that his hands trembled.

"You’re safe," he whispered into her temple.

"You’re safe now... my Calista."

He held her like he’d been drowning.

Held her like she was the only anchor he had left without realizing anything at all.

In his desperate joy, he didn’t notice any of it.

This Elena didn’t hug him back with familiarity.

She didn’t melt into his embrace like the woman he loved.

She simply stood there—still, uncertain, confused in a way she didn’t understand.

But Calithar only tightened his grip.

He had been terrified.

He had believed he had lost her again.

He had fought through illusions, madness to find her.

And finally, he had her.

Or so he thought.

"You’re home," he murmured again, his voice softening as he stroked her back.

"You’ll never be taken from me again."

The false Elena blinked up at him against his shoulders.

She didn’t recognize him and she didn’t know where she was.

But she looked exactly like the woman he had been yearning for.

Calithar didn’t even give her a chance to form a question before pressing a trembling kiss to her forehead.

"I won’t lose you," he whispered.

But by the time Calithar opened his eyes, he found nothing.

No one.

She wasn’t there. Elena wasn’t there...

"Wha...what?" he said in disbelief. She as just here! In his arms so where...

Calithar felt himself going hysterical. He ran to and fro in the room, searching frantically for her.

"Oh no please no. I saw her...I touched her—i—"

Calithar broke down. His heart throbbed violently in splitting pain. Anger, fear, sorrow, depression and anguish swirled violently inside him, driving him to the edge of losing his sanity.

He couldn’t think well. His eyes blurred with disbelief and unbelievable anguish.

Xavriel stood in the same room where he had met Seraphine, watching his brother break apart from a crystal ball the witch he had taken from Calithar had made for him.

The witch stood beside him, clasping her hands together.

"The only way to cause real pain is by giving them false hope only to be disappointed."

Xavriel smirked.

"This will be good."