Inside the realm Alex made
"So you’re telling me," her mother said softly, "that you’re friends with someone this powerful?"
"Yes, mother," Elizabeth replied. Her voice was tired but warm. "I never thought I’d see you again. I thought he would only bring back father."
She leaned closer, resting her head against her mother’s chest, holding on like she was afraid the moment would vanish if she let go. Hours of tears had passed already, but the ache was still there, dull and heavy.
Her mother wrapped her arms around her, slow and careful, like she was holding something fragile that had already broken once.
"He must be a kind man," her mother said after a while. "To bring someone back from the dead... that’s not something you do lightly. It carries consequences. Heavy ones. For him to do it without hesitation..." She paused. "He must either be very kind... or very powerful."
Elizabeth smiled faintly. "Or both."
Her father laughed, a full, honest laugh that filled the space. It was the same laugh she remembered from before everything went wrong.
"I’ll thank him someday," he said. "He reunited me with my daughter. Gave me back my wife. And most importantly—" he spread his hands dramatically "—relieved me of kingly duties."
He laughed again, pleased with himself.
His wife turned and smacked him on the back of the head without warning.
"And who do you think that burden falls on now?" she snapped. "You think Lionhead will take the throne? Our daughter will carry that weight."
Elizabeth felt her mother’s hand tighten on her shoulder.
Her mother looked at her, really looked at her, eyes soft and heavy at the same time. "You’ve already lost too much. And now you’re expected to rule an empire that’s barely holding itself together."
Elizabeth swallowed.
"I don’t mind," she said quietly.
Both of them turned to her.
"I don’t," she repeated. "I’m scared. I won’t lie about that. But... I don’t feel alone anymore."
Her father’s smile faded, replaced with something gentler.
"You shouldn’t have to be brave all the time," he said.
Elizabeth shook her head. "I don’t want to be brave. I just don’t want to run."
Her mother brushed her hair back, the same way she used to when Elizabeth was little. "That’s what scares me," she said softly. "You sound older than you should."
Elizabeth laughed quietly. "Everyone keeps saying that."
There was a silence. Not an uncomfortable one. Just the kind that settles after too many emotions have been poured out.
Her father broke it first.
"Tell me about them," he said. "This... Adam. And his brother. And the girl."
Elizabeth’s expression softened. "They’re strange," she said. "Annoying. Reckless. Sometimes scary. But they don’t look at me like a crown."
Her mother raised a brow. "They don’t?"
"No," Elizabeth said. "They look at me like I’m... me."
Her father nodded slowly. "That might be the greatest gift of all."
Elizabeth hesitated. "Mother... Father... there’s something else."
They waited.
"They’re not human," she said carefully. "Not really. They used to be. But now they’re... concepts. Things older than worlds. Stronger than gods."
Her parents exchanged a glance.
"And you’re safe with them?" her mother asked.
Elizabeth nodded without hesitation. "Yes."
Her father exhaled. "Then that’s enough for me."
Her mother studied her face, searching for doubt. She didn’t find any.
"Then we trust your judgment," she said. "But promise me something."
Elizabeth looked up. "Anything."
"Don’t carry everything alone," her mother said. "Not the throne. Not the grief. Not the future."
Elizabeth felt her throat tighten. "I promise."
Her father reached out and pulled both of them into a clumsy embrace.
"For what it’s worth," he said, "I think you’ll be a better ruler than I ever was."
Elizabeth laughed through tears. "You only say that because you don’t have to do it anymore."
"Exactly," he said proudly.
Her mother sighed, but there was a smile there.
They stayed like that for a while. No crowns. No empires. Just a family that had been broken and stitched back together in a way that still hurt, but held.
Elizabeth closed her eyes.
For the first time since everything began, she allowed herself to rest.
Outside
"Where are they?"
Kahdijah floated above the Imperial Capital, legs crossed in the air like she was bored already.
She tilted her head, eyes half-lidded, then hummed.
"Huh."
Her gaze sharpened when she felt it. A familiar weight. An Absolute. Weak. Bruised. Not fading, not dying, just... humiliated.
She laughed softly. "Oh, that’s embarrassing."
She dropped lower, drifting straight through walls and guards without slowing down, ignoring everything that wasn’t interesting. Nobody noticed her. Nobody could.
She paused in front of a single room.
"There you are."
She slipped through and reformed inside.
Order lay still, staring at nothing, clearly awake, clearly annoyed, clearly too tired to pretend otherwise.
Kahdijah leaned forward, hands on her knees, peering at him like a curious cat.
"Well damn," she said cheerfully. "First time I see you in person and you’re already flat on your back. I expected more from the great embodiment of rules."
Lionhead didn’t look at her.
She clicked her tongue. "Let me guess. Someone punched you. Hard. And not metaphorically."
Silence.
She grinned wider. "Oh, that’s a yes."
Lionhead finally spoke, voice dry. "Shut up."
Kahdijah laughed. Not cruel. Amused. Like this was the highlight of her day.
"You know," she said, straightening, "I was hoping to meet you standing. Regal. Stiff. All that ’everything must be in its place’ nonsense. This?" She gestured vaguely at him. "This is way better."
"Leave," Lionhead said.
"Relax," she replied. "I’m just visiting. Chaos etiquette. Drop in unannounced. Say something annoying. Leave when bored."
She circled him slowly. "So who did it? Was it an Abstract? No... those cowards don’t hit head-on. They poke and hide. This feels personal."
Lionhead’s jaw tightened.
Kahdijah stopped moving.
"Oh?" she said softly. "That face says it wasn’t subtle."
He exhaled. "You’re distracting me."
"Good."
She leaned against nothing, floating again. "Means you’re still alive."
Lionhead finally turned his head toward her. His eyes were sharp, tired, angry.
"If you’re looking for the one who did this," he said, "she’s at the Academy."
She blinked. Then smiled.
"Straight to the point. I like that."
"I’m not helping you," he added. "If you’re not from this world, you can figure it out yourself."
She waved a hand. "Relax. I didn’t come for directions."
"Then why are you here?" Order snapped.
She tilted her head. "Curiosity."
"That’s not an answer."
"It is for me."
She floated closer again, stopping right in his line of sight. "You smell like restraint. Like you’re holding yourself together with duct tape and pride."
Lionhead said nothing.
She chuckled. "Someone really did a number on you."
His voice dropped. "Get to the point."
Kahdijah’s grin softened just a little. Not kinder. Just... honest.
"You’re surrounded by monsters who wear crowns and pretend they’re heroes," she said. "And then three walking disasters showed up and punched holes in your worldview."
Lionhead stared at her.
"And now," she continued lightly, "Chaos walks in and you don’t even have the energy to threaten her. That’s rough."
He closed his eyes.
"Leave," he said again.
She shrugged. "Fine."
She turned, then paused.
"See you soon."