Isolde’s mind swirled through all of the predicted outcomes, and questions without answers. Would the void, cold and infinite, be waiting to consume her if the crossing failed? Or would Zethar be the one to pay the price, caught in an energy surge too strong to withstand? And if it all went right, if the portal succeeded, what would she leave behind? Would her world become a place she could never return to?


    “I’m not ready, Zethar,” she cried, wringing her hands and inching away. “I need more time.”


    “Isolde, we don’t have any more time,” he shouted. If his energy meters were any indication, the portal was on the verge of collapse.


    For two revolutions on X3, Zethar had endured every kind of storm. During the solar season, blistering winds howled across the barren plains, threatening to tear his camp apart. In the lunar season, ice storms trapped him in caves for weeks, huddled close to a fragile fire that fought against the frost like a dying star.


    Months passed without a word from another soul; each week heavier with the crushing weight of failure as his mission yielded nothing. Yet, despite it all, he hadn''t broken.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    The day he had at last stumbled upon the portal, and Isolde had begun visiting him, the discovery of it all seemed to him a great reward. For the dust, the solar burns, the eerie stillness of so many sleepless nights. It had all been worth it, the moment he first heard her voice through the void across dimensions. Now, as Zethar stood before the portal, asking her to take his hand and cross over to him, he could feel the wetness of tears on his own face.


    “Isolde, if you aren''t ready to come with me, then I’ll return for as long as the portal will let me, but if we lose each other now I need you to know how much you have meant to me.


    He continued. “Isolde, I…I love you.”


    “Oh Zethar,” she was crying too now. “I''m ready.”


    She lunged toward the portal, her hand outstretched reaching for Zethar’s. The portal’s hum mingled with the crash of waves, masking the sound at first. From behind her, came the pounding of feet on the sand, quick and heavy. Before Isolde could react, a figure burst from the shadows and slammed into her, driving her to the ground.


    Aurelian.