The land breathed.

  Not just once, not just in a flicker of exhaustion-fueled imagination — but steady, slow, like a giant heart hidden beneath layers of glass and ash.

  Astrid hugged her knees tighter, watching the horizon pulse in time with something she couldn’t name.

  Somewhere to her left, Kurai stirred, standing smoothly, his coat whispering against the stone.

  He looked down at her, golden eyes catching the dying light.

  “We need to move,” he said quietly.

  Astrid pushed herself up with a groan, feeling every scrape and bruise.

  She had hardly slept; it felt like eyes were on her the whole night. Something waiting.

  “Yep, let’s get outta this place. Hey, keep your eyes out for a nice hotel, would you? Haven’t had a proper sleep in three days," she muttered, brushing ash from her clothes.

  Kurai’s mouth twitched — not quite a smile — but it was enough.

  Their steps felt heavier as they left the shelter behind, moving across the black glass plains.

  The ground seemed almost to ripple underfoot, responding to their presence.

  Pillars loomed taller now, leaning in like silent, broken sentinels.

  The air grew hotter, the volcano ahead swelling larger on the horizon, its peak shrouded in a bloody veil of smoke.

  For a while, neither of them spoke.

  Not because there was nothing to say — but because the land itself seemed to be listening.

  They moved through the graveyard like ghosts.

  Astrid tightened her grip on the straps of her bag. The air grew thicker, humming with an ancient weight she couldn't name.

  The ground beneath their boots turned brittle — glassy and cracked — stretching between the sunken skeletons of dragons.

  A cold wind keened through the hollow ribs, weaving a song that sounded too much like mourning.

  Astrid gave a half-hearted chuckle. “You know, this place could really use a visitor center. Maybe a snack bar.”

  Kurai didn’t smile this time. His golden eyes scanned the horizon, his body tense under his coat.

  The volcano in the distance pulsed again — a slow, dreadful rhythm, like a heartbeat of stone.

  The farther they walked, the more the pillars of bone and rock seemed to lean inward, like silent witnesses.

  They reached it together: two massive stone arches, cracked and blackened by time, forming a jagged gateway.

  Astrid stared up at them.

  Those look ominous.

  Kurai paused, tension radiating off him. “Wait—”

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  But Astrid, still exhausted and lost in thought, didn’t hear him properly — she stepped forward. Just one step.

  The world tilted.

  She spun around, suddenly snapping awake — but Kurai was gone.

  Panic clawed at her throat. “Kurai?” Her voice echoed back to her, hollow and too small.

  Across the graveyard, Kurai reached for her — but his fingers closed on smoke.

  One blink, and she was gone.

  Astrid’s Illusion

  Astrid blinked.

  The air no longer smelled of ash and ancient sorrow.

  It smelled familiar. A smell she hadn’t felt in years.

  Home.

  She stood in her childhood bedroom — bunk bed tucked against the wall, crayon drawings taped up everywhere.

  Her heart twisted sharply.

  A loud bang at the door made her jump.

  The door slammed open — her father standing there, looming.

  “I told you to clean your room!” he barked, his face a twisted mask of anger.

  Astrid stumbled back instinctively.

  She remembered this. Too well.

  He stormed across the room, yanking one of her drawings off the wall.

  “I told you to take these down! It looks like garbage!” he shouted, ripping the paper in half before her eyes.

  Astrid squeezed her eyes shut. Please. Not this. I don’t want to remember.

  When she opened them again, the world had shifted.

  She was in Charlie’s room now — brighter, softer.

  Charlie sat cross-legged on the floor, drawing happily.

  Astrid moved without thinking.

  “Hey, kiddo.”

  Charlie looked up at her, beaming, and held out her drawing — a colorful, messy sketch, the kind that usually ended up proudly displayed on the fridge.

  “What do you think?”

  Astrid swallowed the lump in her throat.

  “It’s amazing. We should frame it,” she said without hesitation.

  A whisper curled against her ear.

  She needs you. You should return home. You're not needed here.

  Astrid's fingers brushed against the charm at her neck — the small, battered thing Kurai had given her.

  It felt warm. Steady. Real.

  She looked down at Charlie, her heart aching.

  “She does need me,” Astrid whispered, voice shaking. Her hand tightened around the charm.

  “But so does he. And I can't abandon him.”

  I love you, Charlie.

  Charlie’s smile didn’t fade — but the room did.

  The walls cracked and splintered.

  The world shattered around Astrid like breaking glass.

  ------------------

  Kurai stumbled forward through a sea of fire and ash.

  Flames licked the sky, painting it in furious reds and golds.

  Villages burned. Forests crumbled.

  And at his feet — Astrid.

  Unmoving. Broken.

  His heart dropped into his stomach.

  “Astrid?!” he choked out, dropping to his knees beside her.

  What happened?

  Did I black out?

  Did I do this?

  Before he could touch her, a voice slithered out from everywhere and nowhere:

  "You're a monster. You were made to destroy, not to save."

  His fingers brushed her arm, and she disintegrated into ash, slipping through his hands like smoke.

  Kurai flinched back with a choked breath, hollowed out by the loss.

  "No—" Kurai's voice broke.

  The dragon inside him surged, snapping and clawing at the walls he had built to contain it.

  The heat pressed down on him, heavy and suffocating.

  Kurai dropped to his hands, palms burning against the cracked ground.

  His heart thundered with guilt, terror, despair.

  He wanted to run.

  To disappear.

  To never risk hurting her again.

  But then—

  A laugh.

  Light. Stubborn. Familiar.

  Astrid’s laugh.

  He jerked his head up, spinning toward the sound.

  And there she was — standing tall amid the ash, hands on her hips, grinning at him like he was being ridiculous.

  "Oh my god, you really think you’re so scary?" she teased, her voice playful and sharp as a blade.

  "You’re a boofhead."

  “Astrid…” he whispered — unsure if he meant the illusion, or the memory.

  A real laugh escaped him — raw and startled — before he remembered where he was.

  His hands curled into fists.

  Illusion.

  He bared his teeth, fire gathering under his skin.

  "I’m not playing your games," he snarled.

  The ground trembled underfoot as a wall of flames roared up between him and the grinning figure.

  Another voice — colder, more insidious — coiled through the smoke:

  "You will destroy her. Your power is too much."

  Kurai gritted his teeth, planting his feet against the shaking ground.

  "Then I’ll learn to use it," he said through his teeth. His voice was low, vicious. Certain.

  "So, I can protect her."

  He stepped through the wall of fire without hesitation.

  The flames collapsed into dust behind him.

  And the illusion shattered.

  ---

  The haze lifted.

  Astrid stumbled forward, lungs heaving, boots skidding on brittle ground. She saw him — real, solid — standing at the edge of the ruins.

  "Kurai!" she gasped.

  She ran, grabbing a fistful of his coat, burying her face against the worn fabric. His scent — ash, smoke, something older — filled her senses.

  Kurai froze, startled—then let her hold on. His hand hovered awkwardly before settling gently on her back.

  She muttered into his coat, voice cracking, "I didn’t mean to leave you."

  His hand tightened slightly against her back.

  His voice was quiet, fierce: "You didn’t."

  ---

  Together, they stepped out of the graveyard.

  The volcano towered before them, massive and black, crowned in a wreath of smoke and distant fire. Broken dragon statues lined the path ahead, crumbled guardians of a forgotten age.

  Astrid squared her shoulders, her heart hammering.

  She looked up at the mountain, then at Kurai, and smirked.

  Bridge and flame, she thought. Maybe this is what it meant all along.

  "Alright," she said, voice rough but steady. "Time to climb a volcano."

  Kurai huffed a breath that might almost have been a laugh. His golden eyes shone—not with fear, but something warmer.

  Hope.

  Side by side, they began the climb.