After that moment, the distortion inside Zamira didn't fade, but something in her steps had changed. In the hallway everything was normal—kids heading to class, friends chatting…
But nothing inside her had settled. It was as if a half-open doorway in her spirit had stayed ajar.
Thoughts piled over one another:
"If I'm the soul of a realm… why do I feel so abandoned?"
"Did Nayel really choose me?"
"That army… the place where light and shadow meet… could I even step into it?"
"What if something happens tonight?"
And just as her mind spun—
Nayel's voice slipped in like a breath against her ear:
"The two sides aren't as different as you think, Zamira…"
Zamira jolted. As if someone had exhaled right beside her.
But everything around her was ordinary.
Only she had heard it.
Even during class, her pencil trembled in her hand. As the math teacher wrote on the board, Zamira saw—between those numbers—something else. A deeper layer. Not dark… not bright… but balanced.
Her body began to shift:
A warm ache beneath her navel,
A cool breeze crawling up her spine,
Her heart beating in two rhythms—one hers, one echoing from Nayel's realm.
At lunch she couldn't even taste her food.
She felt… in between.
"Zamira, you walk the border."
Nayel's voice sharpened inside her mind.
Zamira inhaled deeply.
The voice scared her…
yet soothed her.
As if even Nayel's darkness wasn't meant to hurt her—
but to awaken her.
Her own layer was calling.
After class, leaning against the window, she felt it—the sky shifting colors. One belonging to this world… the other to her origin.
Her hand trembled; a thin streak of warm light flashed across her palm… then vanished.
"I'm… changing," she whispered.
But the change wasn't fear.
As night approached, the pull grew stronger.
The two layers were synchronizing.
She felt heavy and weightless.
Cold and burning.
Grounded and floating.
And most of all, Nayel's voice kept pressing against her heart:
"Balance can only be completed by your side…
When the night ends—let the passage open."
That night, when the house fell silent, Zamira lay in bed.
Closing her eyes didn't bring darkness—
but a pulse.
A deep, familiar vibration rising from her chest.
Her heart seemed to beat twice—
one for Earth…
one for where she belonged.
The room dimmed softly,
not with fear—
but like a veil being lifted.
And then—
—her floor shifted.
She wasn't in her room anymore.
Before her, through drifting mist, stood pillars of rising light.
The place wasn't earth… not exactly.
Softer colors.
Longer sounds.
Air made of memory.
Her spiritual layer.
A space like the heart of a temple—
not marble, but woven from shadow and light.
As she stepped forward, gentle vibrations spread beneath her feet—
ones that recognized her.
The trees had no leaves; their branches breathed with faint light.
Each inhale returned fragments of her forgotten self.
"This is… me?" she whispered.
Then the sky split—
not like clouds, but like a dimension opening.
And beneath that tear—
she saw herself.
A calmer version.
Stronger.
Eyes a stormy grey mixed with light.
Tremors of power glowing at her fingertips.
Zamira stepped back. It wasn't a vision.
It was a memory of who she had been.
But suddenly—
the layer darkened.
A long shadow fell across the ground.
Zamira held her breath.
Nayel appeared.
Not faint.
Not ghostlike.
Not a whisper.
Fully—
real, heavy, present.
But his face wasn't harsh.
As if her layer had softened his darkness.
"You've seen it now," Nayel said.
His voice wasn't an echo—
it spoke directly to her heart.
"Who you are, where you come from, why it had to be you… Time is running out."
Zamira couldn't breathe for a moment.
"Why… me?" she whispered.
Nayel stepped closer.
The layer trembled beneath his weight.
"Because this layer is yours…
and it's the only door left to me."
Her eyes widened.
"What do you mean?"
"My realm split in two," he murmured.
"Light claimed its side…
Darkness claimed the other."
Another step.
"And the only balance between them… is your soul."
A shiver ran through her.
Nayel's voice deepened:
"At midnight you will answer.
Will you open the passage…
or seal me forever?"
And in the next blink—
everything vanished.
Light, shadow, trees, tremors—
She was back in her room.
But her heart still beat in that double rhythm.
23:57
A faint ache began in her chest.
Her layer was vibrating.
23:59
A silhouette formed in the corner of her room.
Silent.
Still.
Waiting.
00:00
The clock struck.
A cold, sharp tone.
And then—
Her room didn't darken.
It didn't brighten.
It didn't tear open.
It simply fell.
Layers overlapped for a split second.
A breath—
a flicker—
a whisper—
Nayel's voice rose from inside her chest:
"Speak your choice, Zamira…"
The silhouette took shape.
Fully real.
Eyes burning ice-blue.
**"Will you open the door…
or seal my fate?"**
Zamira stared at him.
Midnight had struck, yet time still rang inside her bones.
She stepped forward once.
Then again.
Expectation and warning danced across Nayel's face.
Then she exhaled:
"I reject your offer."
Nayel's eyes froze.
The darkness within him stilled.
But Zamira continued:
"I'm not opening your door."
His shoulders tightened—
not like a wounded creature,
but like someone fearing abandonment.
Her gaze softened.
She lifted her hand.
Before Nayel could move—
A thin, silk-white light spilled from her fingertips.
Nayel's breath caught.
"Zamira… what are you doing?"
She had said no—
but her expression wasn't rejection.
Her voice trembled with ancient memory.
"I'm not breaking the bond."
"But I'm not walking your path either."
The white light curled through the air like a river—
touching first her own heart,
then Nayel's.
For the first time, he felt fear.
Not of her—
but of what this choice meant.
The light hovered between them.
"Zamira…" he whispered, shaken.
"You didn't choose me…
but you tethered me."
Zamira breathed deeply.
"Because your fate… isn't my answer."
"But this connection… is part of my destiny."**
The light stabilized, a single line between their hearts—
not a chain,
not a cut.
A simple truth.
A bond.
Nayel's icy eyes shifted—
warming for the first time.
"Zamira… you…"
"…you're my passage."
She lowered her hand.
The light thinned—
but did not disappear.
Their hearts were no longer bound.
But their layers were.
Nayel stepped back,
shadow trembling.
"This bond… will alter the war."
Zamira inhaled.
"Then let it."
Nayel's form rippled, fading into the corner's darkness—
but not leaving.
The thin line of light between them still pulsed.
His last words echoed through the room:
**"Our destinies are no longer one…
but they will never be separate again."**
Zamira fell to her knees.
Hand over her heart.
Deep inside—
Nayel's cold echo remained.
But not as fear.
As a choice.
As balance.