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Chapter 12 - Chapter 12: A Shadow Between Us

"Impossible..."

Kaelon walked slowly through the market, each face that passed him nothing more than a ghost in this long day. The noise around him didn't reach his ears. All he could hear was the echo of her voice, the words that shattered something deep inside him.

He suddenly collided with a small figure. He stepped back to see a little girl holding a basket of flowers, the petals scattered across the cobblestones.

He immediately bent down, apologizing: "I'm sorry... I didn't see you."

He helped her to her feet, and as he did, his eyes met hers—wide, familiar... like hers.

He froze.

In a flash, a memory awoke. The first time Eirelyn had reached out to him with a bright smile amid the ruins. She had still been a child.

The little girl asked him innocently: "Are you okay, sir?"

He nodded silently, pulled out a few coins, paid her for the ruined flowers, and quickly walked away.

He entered the nearby tavern without looking around. It was known to the public as "The Last Drop," a modest place filled with noise and smells, but those who knew the truth... knew it was only a front.

His. For years, he had established it as a cover for the information guild he ran from the shadows. No one linked Kaelon the silent merchant... to the man who knew half the empire's secrets.

"Wine. To the office, as usual," he said to the bartender with a flat tone.

The bartender nodded respectfully, saying nothing. He knew better than to joke when the man was in this state.

Kaelon climbed the staircase leading to the upper floor. He pulled a strange-looking key from his pocket and pressed a small wooden panel beside the door. With a soft click, the secret door opened to the only place... where he allowed himself to collapse.

His office. That dim haven filled with heavy papers, unspoken secrets, and maps that never appeared on official charts. The place pulsed with the echoes of memories he never shared.

Behind his desk, the painting hung.

Eirelyn.

He had painted it himself, one evening when he thought peace was possible, that love wasn't a threat.

He looked at it for a long time, at her eyes in the painting... looking at him. Always.

He whispered, voice barely audible: "Why...?"

Then his voice rose, broken: "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?!"

His eyes widened, his voice cracked: "I OFFERED TO HELP YOU! I BEGGED! ALL I WANTED WAS FOR YOU TO TRUST ME—AND YOU ALWAYS RAN AWAY!"

He slammed his hand against the table.

"THEN YOU DISAPPEAR! AND COME BACK TO TELL ME YOU'RE NOT YOU!!"

He exploded. He kicked the chair, knocked over books, scattered papers like wounded thoughts. The air around him changed. It grew heavier.

---

Downstairs, Lloyd had just entered. He took off his coat and headed straight to the bar.

"A glass of the aged one."

The bartender handed him the drink respectfully, then gave a discreet nod upward.

"He's upstairs."

Lloyd nodded back with a brief thanks and climbed the stairs calmly.

He knew the place well. The upper floor wasn't for storage, as most thought. It was the heart of something hidden. Kaelon's true space.

But before he reached the door, he paused.

A noise.

Glass shattering. Something hitting the ground. A muffled, familiar scream.

He frowned.

Pushed the door open quickly—and was not ready for what he saw.

The room was chaos. Books and papers everywhere. The chair overturned. The painting trembling on the wall.

And Kaelon... in the center of it all.

His eyes burned red, the black aura around him pulsing wildly. He was panting, trembling.

Lloyd froze for half a second. The cup in his hand slipped.

Shattered on the floor.

He rushed forward. Grabbed his friend by the shoulders, slammed him against the wall:

"KAEL! STOP! PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER!"

Kaelon froze.

Then... collapsed.

He sank to the floor as if everything inside him had died.

He slowly lifted his head and looked at the painting.

"She's not her, Lloyd... that's what she said."

Lloyd stepped closer and sat beside him.

"Explain."

With a trembling voice, Kaelon began to speak.

How he returned to the shop after she disappeared. How she avoided his eyes. How his heart denied it, but his mind couldn't.

Finally, he said:

"She says another soul entered her body. That she's not Eirelyn."

Lloyd looked at him silently, then muttered:

"Possible."

Kaelon's eyes widened: "What? What do you mean, 'possible'? Do you believe this madness?!"

Lloyd shook his head: "Not entirely madness. There are old stories. Of second chances. Of souls returning to finish what was left undone. Maybe... this girl was chosen. Or maybe, Eirelyn herself asked for this. Somehow."

Kaelon muttered, something inside him breaking:

"You mean... she didn't want to live?"

Lloyd didn't answer. He just looked at him with quiet eyes.

Then said: "Go to her. Not to be sure... but to understand."

Kaelon nodded. Slowly.

---

In a small attic bathed in the dust of evening, Eirelyn sat on the bed, blanket over her legs, arms beneath her head. Her eyes watched the drifting clouds through the window, wishing she were a passing breeze.

She didn't understand herself. How could he?

Then she remembered the Crown Prince.

She whispered: "Lucien... what turned you this cruel?"

Her eyes fell to the pendant.

Everything had started with it.

Her mother's death. Lucien's hunt. A stolen life.

"I just want to go back... to sit with my mother at the table, drink tea with her. One day. Just one day."

Her stomach growled.

She smiled bitterly and got up.

In the kitchen, she prepared what she had—bread and eggs. Lit the fire.

Life, after all, had to go on.

But it didn't.

In a moment, her body froze.

The pendant glowed with a dark purple light.

The eggs dropped. Oil spilled.

Then... her hand began to move.

Drawing.

Stars. Circles. Symbols.

"STOP!" she screamed inside.

But the body didn't hear.

She kept drawing. And drawing. Until her body gave out.

Then it stilled.

She looked at her hands, stained with oil.

"What's happening to me?"

She turned off the fire, looked at the messy kitchen, sighed tiredly, and began to clean.

Suddenly—a knock.

She opened the door.

Kaelon.

The calm around him was more dangerous than a scream.

He said quietly: "I'm sorry... for everything."

She shook her head.

They sat. Silence louder than any word.

Then he spoke: "You said you're not Eirelyn."

She nodded.

His voice was a whisper: "What happened to her?"

She placed her hand over the pendant, then whispered: "She was killed."

He closed his eyes. The pain passed... but didn't end.

He asked gently: "And how are you here?"

She looked at him for a long moment, then murmured: "I died... in my world. And woke up here. In her body."

Silence.

Then, in a voice that cracked something open: "Do you know... a part of me still waits for her."

Tears welled in her eyes.

But he only stood.

He said, without looking at her: "I want to hate you. To say you stole her from me."

A pause.

"But I... can't."

He turned to leave.

She said, barely audible: "If I could leave her... I would."

He stopped.

Silent.

Then whispered: "And if I could stop waiting for her... I would."

He left.

And she remained, staring at the door.

The air in the room... too heavy to breathe.

---

The moment Kaelon vanished from sight, she sighed deeply. Then, suddenly, she felt something wrong.

The atmosphere had shifted.

Before she could react, a strong arm yanked her from behind.

Someone had seized her. Silent. Calculated.

She screamed, tried to fight back. No use.

Light flared from his hand.

Then... silence.

A sleep spell.

The pendant slipped from her neck during the struggle, rolled beneath the table.

Its red glow faded.

And he... vanished.

With her.

---

In a dark cell, the stench of rot and iron filled the air.

She opened her eyes, heavy.

"Where..." She whispered.

She looked around, shocked, and stood.

Then she screamed: "IS ANYONE THERE?! LET ME OUT!"

Silence.

Then a voice crept from the shadows.

Calm. Like tasting each word:

"Finally... you've awakened, sister."

---

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