Two days after the fall of Valemarch, Grace and Rune stood once again before the shimmering portal to the Magik Realm.
The difference this time was almost laughable.
Last time they had been cautious, cloaking their presence, sneaking between worlds like thieves afraid of being caught. Now, Grace stood tall, her aura a shimmering storm of power so vast it made the very fabric of the portal ripple in response. Her dragon circled high above, guarding the skies of Starfall until her return. In the outside world, hours would pass. Here, in the Magik Realm, they had all the time they needed.
Rune offered his hand without a word. Grace took it.
And together, they stepped through.
The air changed immediately—thicker, charged with ancient magic, yet somehow lighter at the same time. The ground beneath their feet was a carpet of living light, and towering crystalline trees rose into a velvet sky, where twin moons bathed the world in silver glow.
