The queen's hand hovered…
the space between her and the king filled with years of silence, love, and regret.
Finally,
she touched him.
Just a light touch.
Enough to say I forgive you.
Not enough to say everything is healed.
The king's shoulders trembled.
He held her hand gently, like it would vanish if he gripped too tight.
"I… will never chain you again."
The queen's blue eyes softened.
"You never had to. I would have stayed… if only I could breathe."
Her daughter clung to her waist.
"Then stay now! Please, Mom… don't go back to the lake."
The queen bent down, kissing her child's forehead.
"My darling… I will never leave your heart.
But I cannot stay only human.
The lake calls me, it is who I am.
I belong to both worlds, not one."
The girl's eyes filled with tears.
Kael looked away, jaw tight.
Mira bit her lip, whispering, "So this is the price of love…"
But the queen smiled, gentle as moonlight.
"I will walk between both worlds.
Some days here, some days there.
Whenever the necklace allows, I will return—
to you, to both of you."
The king finally lifted his head, hope breaking through his grief.
"Even a fragment of time… is enough.
We will wait. Always."
The family embraced.
The lake shimmered behind them, glowing as if approving the vow.
And Kael, watching, thought,
perhaps not every story ends with happily ever after.
Some end with happily enough.
The queen's arms still wrapped around her daughter, her gaze drifted past,
to Mira.
Her eyes softened, almost knowing.
"You carry another burden, child. The shadow of your father."
Mira's throat tightened.
"H-How do you…?"
The queen touched the lake. Ripples shimmered, and from its surface rose a small glass vial, glowing faintly.
Inside was a swirl of pale light, fragile, pure.
"The same friend who cursed your father once came here, years ago," she whispered.
"They stole this from me… a flower's essence that twists souls when corrupted. The king reclaimed what remained, waiting for the right one to use it."
She handed the vial to the king.
"This is its counterbalance, the remedy. The last of it."
Mira's eyes widened, her hands trembling as the king pressed the vial into her palms.
"Take it," he said, voice steady.
"It is small… but strong enough to heal a demon's broken memory. Strong enough to make a father whole."
Mira's lips quivered, between laughter and tears.
"Thank you… thank you, both of you…"
Kael put a hand on her shoulder, smirking just faintly.
"Guess we didn't wander through all those creepy forests for nothing."
The queen smiled, light glowing in her hair like dawn.
"Every quest brings two gifts. The one you seek… and the one you never expected."
The lake stirred again, calling her.
Her daughter clung tighter, but the queen kissed her once more.
"Remember—I will return. When the moon is high and the lake is silver. I will come."
And with that, her form shimmered…
light bending…
and she was gone.
Only the necklace remained for a moment, glinting at the lake's edge, before vanishing too.
Mira clenched the vial close to her chest, a fire of hope burning bright inside her.
This was it,
the chance to save her father.
The journey back felt heavier than before.
Not from fear,
but from the weight of what Mira carried pressed tightly against her chest.
The vial.
Her father's last hope.
Kael walked beside her, silent for once, only glancing at her every now and then. He knew words wouldn't help now.
When they reached the small cabin on the edge of the village, Mira paused at the door. Her hands shook. She wasn't sure if she was ready.
But Kael's voice was firm.
"Your father's waiting. Don't let him wait any longer."
She nodded, swallowing hard, and pushed the door open.
Inside, her father sat by the window. His eyes, once bright, were clouded, unfocused. He looked at Mira, then away, as though searching for someone he had forgotten but could never find.
"Papa…" Mira whispered.
She knelt beside him and took his hand. "I brought something. Something that can bring you back to me."
She uncorked the vial. At once, a soft glow filled the room, spilling across the wooden walls like moonlight. The air shimmered faintly, almost humming.
"Drink this," she begged, raising it to his lips. "Please… trust me."
For a moment, he resisted, his hands trembling. But then, as though some part of him still recognized his daughter, he leaned forward and let the glowing liquid slip past his lips.
The effect was instant.
His eyes widened, the cloud lifting as if curtains were pulled back. His body shuddered, breath coming heavy, and then,
"Mira…"
Her name, breaking from his lips for the first time in years.
Her tears spilled as she clung to him, sobbing. "Papa! You remember me! You really—"
"I remember everything," he whispered hoarsely, arms wrapping around her. "The day you were born… the songs your mother used to sing… the curse that stole me from myself."
Kael stood at the door, watching quietly. For once, even he couldn't hide the soft smile tugging at his lips.
The memories had returned.
The father was whole again.
And Mira's heart finally found the piece it had been searching for.
The village had long gone quiet. Only the sound of crickets and the distant rush of the river broke the silence.
Kael sat by the small desk in the corner of the cabin, a single candle flickering at his side. Mira and her father slept peacefully, finally, after so many restless nights.
But Kael's eyes stayed open.
He pulled a piece of parchment toward him, dipped the quill in ink, and began to sketch. His strokes were quick but precise, every line carefully thought through.
The forest.
The lake.
The castle.
Every place they had been, every clue they had found, he began marking it down.
Mira stirred in her sleep and whispered his name, but he didn't turn. He kept drawing, muttering under his breath.
"If we're going to uncover the rest of this… we need a path. Something clear. Something no one else sees."
The candlelight threw sharp shadows across his face, making him look older, harder, more determined. He drew the unicorns' meadow, the twisting river, even the places where the old man's stories had led them astray.
At the center of the map, he drew a symbol.
A flower.
Dark, thorned, and dangerous.
"The poison…" Kael whispered, his hand tightening on the quill. "If we can find it, if we can learn where it grows… no one will have to suffer like Mira's father did again."
For a moment, he leaned back, staring at the half-finished map. His eyes softened, just slightly, as he looked at Mira.
"She deserves peace," he murmured, so low no one could hear. "And if I have to carve a path through shadows to give it to her… then I will."
The quill scratched again, the map growing with every heartbeat. By the time dawn's light crept over the horizon, Kael's work was finished.
A map not just of the land,
but of everything they had lived, lost, and hoped to find.