A World Between Realms

Break thy fasting

As the first light of dawn spilled across the ancient citadel of Navaria, the Hall of Elders stirred with quiet urgency. Robes rustled softly and hushed voices echoed beneath towering arches. The grand doors—carved from timeworn elder oak and etched with runes of old—stood wide open as the kingdom's most venerable figures gathered.

At the head of the stone table sat Elder Caius, his presence commanding yet calm. With King Solarius gravely ill, Caius had stepped into leadership as dictated by ancient law: in times of royal infirmity, the Council of Elders would guide the realm.

"Fellow Elders of Navaria," Caius began, his voice strong, "we meet today with heavy hearts. Our liege, King Solarius, remains unwell. Until he recovers, we are bound by duty to safeguard the kingdom's order and oversee its affairs alongside the lords."

Murmurs of assent followed. The weight of responsibility hung thick in the air. Caius continued, eyes scanning the council.

"Our next concern is of no lesser consequence—the arrival of an Earthling, brought through the long-dormant Northeastern Portal. Elder Volvaria, if you would..."

Elder Volvaria rose, her tone measured but grave. "Last night, a young woman named Sophie appeared near the village of Angkoria. The portal, inactive for generations, opened without warning. The girl was discovered by the Gardwyn household and taken into their care. Her presence here is... troubling. There are no precedents for this."

Tension tightened in the room as the Master Gatekeeper stumbled in—his entrance drawing raised brows, his breath faintly laced with liquor. His recent lapses had made him a controversial figure, but his knowledge of the portals was unmatched, and today, his input was necessary.

Lord Eldric of Gardwyn spoke next, his voice calm but firm. "We've extended hospitality to Sophie at Gardwyn Manor. Our halls have long served as sanctuary to those displaced, and we shall continue this tradition. But we also remain vigilant. Her presence must be observed."

The Record Keeper, ancient and stooped with age, nodded slowly. "Our records hold no mention of an Earthling passing through the portals. She appears to be an orphan, with no magical lineage of note. Her arrival is, in every sense, an anomaly."

Elder Vespera, keeper of arcane wisdom, spoke with resolve. "Then I shall go to Angkoria. I will examine the portal myself and ensure its seal remains intact. We must understand what triggered its awakening."

"Well said," Caius replied. "We find ourselves at the edge of uncertainty, but we shall meet it with clarity and strength. Let us proceed with care, for Navaria looks to us now."

With solemn nods, the Elders dispersed, each carrying the weight of their charge into the unfolding days.

⸻

At Gardwyn Manor, morning sunlight crept through thick velvet drapes and warmed the stone floor. Sophie stirred slowly in a grand bed she barely remembered falling into. The air smelled faintly of old wood and something herbal—like dried lavender.

The door eased open, and a young woman with silver-blonde hair entered quietly. She wore a flowing gown and carried herself with practiced grace.

"Good morning, young mistress," she said kindly. "I am Maida. Lady Fatima has charged me with your care today. You've slept well, I hope?"

Sophie sat up groggily. "I think so. What... what time is it?"

"It is nearly time for the morning meal," Maida said with a smile. "You are expected in the great hall. There, you may meet other guests of the manor. Gardwyn often shelters those in need—your presence is not the first to stir curiosity."

Sophie blinked. "Other guests?"

"Aye," Maida replied. "Each with a story, much like thyself."

She stepped forward, holding out a set of clothing—rich fabrics in colors Sophie had only ever seen in period dramas. "These garments are suited to our customs. I can help thee dress, if needed."

Sophie took the clothes gingerly. They were soft, intricately made, and impossibly beautiful. "Thank you. I think I'll manage," she said, though Maida stayed nearby just in case.

As Maida braided her hair and helped adjust the layers of fabric, Sophie's thoughts wandered to the woman from the night before—Fatima, older and more formal. She hadn't expected another attendant. But Maida, with her quiet warmth, felt more like a guide than a servant.

Once ready, Maida led her through winding corridors lined with old paintings and enchanted carvings. The manor was alive with quiet magic. Every shadow seemed to whisper history.

They entered the great hall, where a long table stretched beneath high, arched windows. Sunlight poured in, catching on polished silver and fresh fruit. People were already seated, their conversations low and polite.

Maida gestured toward the table. "Take thy place. Eat, listen, and speak if the mood strikes. Answers often find those who are open to them."

Sophie hesitated, then nodded. As she stepped into the hall, eyes turned toward her—some curious, others cautious. She swallowed hard and sat down.

After breakfast, she knew, would come her audience with Lady Elowen.