Chapter 6: A Choice Between Worlds
I jolted awake with a sharp gasp, the sensation of falling still clinging to my body. My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself staring at a sky I didn’t recognize—one not filled with the fractured hues of time in collapse but instead a soft, silver glow of twin moons hanging side by side. The ground beneath me was warm, like sunlit stone, and the air smelled faintly of salt and something floral, something familiar.
My mind swirled with fragments of the last few moments—Sorin, Kaira, the city suspended between past and future, and the horrible truth Sorin had been hiding from me. And then, just as quickly, the world had fallen apart, and I had been torn from him.
Where am I now?
I sat up slowly, my heart pounding as I surveyed my surroundings. It was beautiful—almost too beautiful, like a painting or a dream. A shimmering sea stretched out before me, glowing with iridescent light. Behind me, tall spires of crystal jutted into the sky, their surfaces reflecting the twin moons.
But it wasn’t real, I knew that much. It couldn’t be. This world was too perfect, too surreal to belong to any reality I knew. And yet, here I was, alive, breathing, surrounded by a beauty so overwhelming it made my chest ache.
My fingers dug into the warm ground beneath me, trying to hold on to something real. And then, from behind me, I heard a voice. A voice I thought I had lost.
“Elara.”
I whipped around, my breath catching in my throat. There he was, standing just a few feet away, his figure half-obscured by the gentle glow of the moonlight. Sorin. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—those storm-gray eyes that had haunted me—were filled with something I couldn’t name.
“Sorin?” I whispered, the sound barely escaping my lips.
He took a step closer, his hand reaching out as if to assure himself that I was real. His fingers grazed my arm, sending a familiar warmth through me, and I shivered at the touch.
“I thought I lost you,” he murmured, his voice raw with emotion. “I thought—”
“You did,” I interrupted, the sharp edge of betrayal slicing through my chest. “You did lose me, Sorin. You kept things from me. You didn’t trust me. You let me walk away without knowing the truth.”
His face crumpled, the weight of my words sinking into him. “I thought I was protecting you,” he said softly, his hand dropping away from my arm. “I thought if you didn’t remember… if I could keep you from that pain, we could have a chance at something new. Something better.”
I shook my head, my heart pounding. “But it wasn’t your choice to make,” I whispered. “You should have trusted me enough to let me decide for myself.”
Sorin’s gaze dropped to the ground, his shoulders slumping with the burden of his guilt. “I know,” he said after a long moment, his voice barely audible. “I know I should have. And I’m sorry, Elara. I’m sorry for everything.”
I swallowed hard, the ache in my chest growing. Part of me wanted to forgive him, to let the warmth of his presence melt away the cold that had settled in my bones since I’d left him. But the other part of me—the part that had been hurt, betrayed—couldn’t let go so easily.
“I need to know the truth, Sorin,” I said, my voice steady even as my heart raced. “No more secrets. No more lies. If you want me to stay, you have to tell me everything.”
Sorin’s eyes flickered with something like fear, but he nodded slowly, taking a step back. He ran a hand through his dark hair, his jaw clenched tight as if steeling himself for what he was about to say.
“It wasn’t just your life that I was trying to protect,” he began, his voice low, almost a whisper. “It was… ours.”
I frowned, confusion twisting in my chest. “What do you mean?”
He hesitated, his eyes locking with mine, and I saw the depth of his pain reflected there. “The reason you can’t remember our past,” he said slowly, “is because I made you forget it. I made you forget me.”
My heart stopped. The world around us seemed to still, the gentle hum of the sea fading into the background as his words sank in.
“You… made me forget?” I repeated, disbelief lacing my voice. “Why?”
Sorin closed his eyes, as if the memory of that decision still haunted him. “Because I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. And I knew… I knew that if you remembered everything, you would leave. You would choose to go back to your old life.”
I stared at him, my mind spinning. The weight of what he was saying was almost too much to bear. He had taken my memories—our memories—because he had been afraid of losing me?
“You took away my choice,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You took away my life.”
Sorin’s face crumpled, and he took a step toward me, desperation in his eyes. “I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “And I’m sorry, Elara. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I see now that I was wrong. I should have trusted you. I should have let you choose.”
I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes. “I don’t know if I can forgive you for that,” I whispered.
Sorin’s face twisted with pain, but he didn’t try to argue. He simply stood there, his hands clenched at his sides, waiting for me to decide.
And that was when the ground beneath us began to tremble.
I staggered, grabbing Sorin’s arm for support as the earth shook violently. The sky above us darkened, the twin moons vanishing behind a swirling mass of storm clouds. Lightning cracked across the horizon, and the air around us seemed to vibrate with an otherworldly energy.
“What’s happening?” I gasped, my heart pounding in my chest.
Sorin’s eyes widened with realization. “The timelines,” he said urgently, his grip tightening on my arm. “They’re collapsing. We don’t have much time.”
Before I could respond, a blinding flash of light erupted from the sky, and suddenly, standing before us, was Kaira.
Her eyes gleamed with triumph as she stepped forward, her voice calm and menacing. “You thought you could outrun fate, Elara?” she sneered. “You thought you could escape what’s been written?”
I stared at her, my heart pounding with fear and anger. “What do you want, Kaira?” I demanded.
Kaira’s smile widened, her gaze flicking between Sorin and me. “A choice must be made,” she said simply. “The timelines can’t exist as they are. One will survive. The other must fall. And you, Elara, must choose.”
I felt the weight of her words like a punch to the gut. “What do you mean, I have to choose?”
Kaira’s eyes glinted with cold amusement. “You can’t have both worlds, Elara. You can’t be in love with a memory and still cling to your future. You must decide—stay here, with him,” she gestured to Sorin, “or return to your life in the present, without him.”
My heart raced as I stared at Sorin, his eyes filled with pain and desperation. This was it—the moment I had been avoiding, the choice I had never wanted to face.
Torn between two worlds, between the past and the present, I realized I had to make the hardest decision of my life.
But before I could answer, the sky cracked open again, and time itself seemed to fold in on us, dragging us all into the heart of the storm.
***
In that moment, suspended between two realities, I felt the pull of both worlds—one offering love, the other freedom—and knew that no matter what I chose, I would lose something precious.