Between Shadows and Light

3. Between the Worlds

Katherine opened the heavy wooden door. The young man leaned against the wall while she helped him settle into the hay. She lit a dim lantern, its soft glow illuminating just a few metres—enough for her to see the wounds and begin preparing treatment.

She saw that his clothes were torn and bloodied. Bruises and cuts marked his face. He'd been through something serious.

"I'll be right back," she said.

He gave a slight nod. Katherine stepped out, closing the door behind her.

On the way to the house, she debated telling her father about the stranger hiding in their stables. But she decided not to—for now. He didn't seem dangerous.

Inside, she gathered everything she'd need to treat his injuries and grabbed a warm blanket. Returning to the stables, she laid everything beside him and looked at his face. His eyes were closed again.

"Can you hear me?" she asked softly.

No answer—the young man had slipped back into unconsciousness.

She gave him a strong painkiller first. She wanted to ensure he would suffer as little as possible once she began. After scrutinising the injuries, she set to work.

She wiped away the blood and washed and disinfected the wound on his side. It wasn't deep, but it still needed attention. The leg wound, however, was more serious—it explained why he had struggled to walk.

The stranger groaned and opened his eyes as she was finishing.

"How do you feel?" she asked gently.

"Better... Thank you," he whispered.

His voice was still faint and weary.

Relieved that she could help, Katherine leaned back against the wall, letting herself rest for a moment.

"Get some sleep," she said, then pulled the blanket over him.

Though grateful, he looked troubled. He tried to get up, but Katherine stopped him.

"Don't worry—you're safe here," she assured him.

A strange desire to help this stranger had taken root in her heart. As she watched him in the dim light, she remembered tending to her father when enemies had found them more than once. Those weren't good memories—she had made mistakes and didn't always know what to do—but she had always tried her best.

He nodded slightly, too weak to speak more. He wanted to say something, but exhaustion held him back. Understanding that rest was the most crucial thing, Katherine left him to sleep and stepped outside, planning to return in the morning.

As she walked away from the stables, worry still gnawed at her. She didn't know who he was or where he came from—but she was determined to help him. She couldn't stop thinking about the mysterious newcomer back in the house. Finally, knowing she had done what she could, she went to bed.

Despite the girl's urging to rest, Adrian tried to rise the moment she left. But his body protested. A burning pain seared his side as if a blade were still lodged there. Darkness swam at the edges of his vision, and he collapsed back into the hay, trying to catch his breath.

He knew he couldn't afford to lie there. He had to find a way back to his world—and finish what he'd started. Time was running out. Every moment spent in this strange world could prove fatal.

In his hand, he still held the Blade of Returning. Questions swirled in his mind—how did it work, why had it brought him here, and where exactly was it?

Adrian tried to focus on the blade, recalling the moment it activated. It pulsed gently in his hand, glowing with soft blue light. He knew it was magic—unpredictable and mysterious—and though he didn't fully understand it, he could feel it responding to him as if by instinct.

His thoughts and emotions sharpened, and he focused on a single desire: to return to Endora. He tried to summon the same intensity he had felt when fleeing Simon Phoenix's men, hoping it would activate the blade again.

The relic glowed brighter. Adrian felt the familiar vibration in the air, but this time, doubt crept in. He didn't know exactly how the blade's magic worked—and he wasn't sure his body could withstand another crossing. Even the slightest misstep could be fatal. What if the portal sent him somewhere else? Or worse—straight into Simon Phoenix's hands?

Still gripping the Blade of Returning, he watched as a portal began to form. The glow intensified, and the air trembled until, finally, a shimmering gateway opened before him.

The portal spun slowly, casting a cold light across his face. Through it, Adrian saw not just light but shifting, foggy images—fleeting glimpses of the world of Endora. The photos were too brief and blurry to understand, but they gave him hope. Maybe he could return.

But doubt lingered. Were the visions real—or illusions, bait to lure him into a trap? Adrian wondered if his desire to return was too hasty. Maybe he needed to learn more about the Blade of Returning before trying again.

Was he ready to face whatever awaited him? Could he trust not just the relic but himself?

Magic was always unpredictable. Would the portal take him home—or to yet another danger? Adrian had no answers. But time was against him.

Still, the pull to return was more potent than any fear. He took a deep breath, calming his thoughts and steadying his resolve.

He couldn't stay here forever, caught between hesitation and action. At last, determined and undeterred by the unknown, Adrian stepped toward the portal, ready to face whatever lay on the other side.

Before stepping through, he gathered his things and looked into the light emanating from the blade and the space it had carved open.

He walked through the glowing gateway. His mission had to continue—and, if fate allowed, one day he would return to thank the girl whose name he never asked.