The sunlight barely touched the windowsill when Kristina bounced into the room, clutching her pencil like it was a sword. "Kris! Today we're going to make the biggest fort ever!" she squealed, excitement radiating off her like sparks.
I groaned, rubbing my eyes. "You mean… the fort method? That sounds… complicated."
Kristina grinned, ignoring me. "Complicated? No! It's awesome! We build it, and we can go to Eryndor!"
Grandma appeared from the hallway, walking with her staff in hand. "The fort must be constructed with intent, care, and focus," she said. "Not just any pile of blankets or boxes. Symbols, alignment, and a 'heart of imagination' inside… that is the key."
I glanced at her, eyebrows raised. "Heart of imagination? What is that, like a magic crystal?"
Grandma nodded. "A crystal, a sketchbook, or an artifact that represents your imagination. Without it, the fort will only be a fort. With it… it becomes a doorway to Eryndor."
Kristina's eyes sparkled. "Then we need our imagination hearts!" She ran to grab her sketchbook, flipping to the pages filled with dragons, castles, and creatures she had drawn over the past weeks. "This is mine!"
I sighed, picking up mine as well. My drawings were less detailed, mostly sketches of shields and constructs, but Grandma nodded approvingly. "Good. Now combine them at the center. Your bond will amplify the power."
We dragged chairs, blankets, pillows, and even Mom's old tapestry into the center of the room. The living room slowly became a labyrinth of tunnels, towers, and walls. Kristina insisted on naming each tower.
"This is the Phoenix Tower!" she shouted, pointing at a pillow stack. "And that's the Dragon Gate!"
I rolled my eyes but secretly smiled. "Fine. The Dragon Gate it is. But make sure it's stable."
Grandma stood nearby, murmuring incantations softly, her hands weaving subtle glowing patterns in the air. Mom peeked in from the kitchen, watching us with a smile. "I still can't believe you two think this will actually work."
Kristina shot Mom a grin. "It will! We're Bouie! Our imagination makes anything real!"
I laughed. "Yeah… let's hope it's strong enough to keep Malachor's scouts out."
At last, the fort was complete. Blankets formed walls and towers, chairs held it steady, and at the very center, our "hearts of imagination" glowed faintly on the floor.
"Focus," Grandma whispered. "Channel your imagination, think of Eryndor, think of the creatures, the lands… the possibilities."
I closed my eyes, picturing the floating forests, the shimmering rivers, and skies of colors I had never seen on Earth. Kristina's hand tightened around hers, energy flowing through her small body.
A soft hum filled the room. Light began to pulse from the hearts of imagination. The walls of the fort shimmered, then wavered, becoming translucent. The air inside smelled like ozone and rain, like the first breath of a new world.
"Do you feel it?" Kristina whispered. Her voice trembled with excitement.
"Yes," I said, my voice barely audible. "It's real…"
The fort walls dissolved completely, revealing a vast landscape bathed in golden light. Floating islands hovered in the distance, rivers twisted like silver ribbons, and enormous trees swayed, though there was no wind. Creatures both terrifying and beautiful wandered the land, some noticing us and retreating cautiously.
Kristina jumped, almost squealing. "We did it! We're in Eryndor!"
I grinned, feeling a rush of energy through my body. "Yeah… we really are."
Before we could explore further, a shadow flickered across the sky. My stomach twisted. The shadow had glowing red eyes and moved too smoothly for any natural creature.
Kristina noticed it too, her hand trembling. "Kris… do you see that?"
"Yes," I whispered, summoning a protective barrier around us. The energy chains glowed and hummed in response to my thoughts. Kristina added her constructs—a wolf-like creature with silver fur and glowing eyes—patrolling the edges of our little fort.
"Good," Grandma murmured from behind us, still in the real world. "You're in Eryndor… but the scouts are already aware of your presence. Malachor's influence spreads fast here. Remember your bond… and your imagination."
Suddenly, a voice echoed across the golden plains, deep and commanding:
"They think they are safe in their little fort. Pathetic children."
It was a scout of Malachor's army—a humanoid shadow clad in jagged armor, glowing crimson in the cracks of its body.
Kristina's pencil hovered. "Kris… can we fight it?"
I nodded. "Together. Let's show it what Bouie power really means."
The shadow's eyes narrowed. "The Bouie Bloodline… I've heard whispers. We will see if they are truly as strong as legends say."
It leapt forward. My chains snapped outward, colliding with the shadow. Kristina's constructs darted around it, biting and blocking.
Grandma's voice rang in my head: "Use your imagination! Create! Protect each other!"
I concentrated, imagining a wall of glowing runes forming around the shadow, but it twisted through the constructs like smoke. Kristina's energy combined with mine, and the light flared, pushing the shadow back.
For a moment, we stood together, panting, exhilarated—and scared.
Kristina's small hand found mine. "Kris… we can really do this, can't we?"
"Yes," I said firmly, staring at the shadow regrouping at the edge of the fort. "We're Bouie. Together, nothing can stop us."
And even as the shadow faded into the horizon, I knew the real challenge had only just begun.
Malachor's plans were far from over. His generals and scouts were already strategizing, watching, and waiting. And Eryndor—this world of imagination and reality—was far more dangerous than we ever expected.