The Land Between the Universe

For eternity, it has been exceptionally rare for royal bloodlines to inherit the ability to traverse the mythical gate set in the blood moon land—a cosmic border that separates the mortal and immortal realms, where time flows differently, and the essence of reality itself is altered.

The reasons behind this ability to navigate between parallel worlds remain shrouded in mystery. Yet, the few immortals with access to the mortal realm, seeing it as a dull and fleeting shadow of their own, pay little interest in the alternate universe—a realm inhabited by weak and fleeting mortals.

Out in the desolate expanse of the blood moon land, the only source of light was from the everlasting crimson moon. Hanging low in the sky, resembling a giant ruby bleeding its glow across the barren landscape. The land stretched endlessly, a cracked and lifeless wasteland where the air itself felt heavy with sorrow. The moon cast a sickly purple hue over everything, staining the world in an unnatural twilight.

No proper darkness descended here, no dawn cracked the horizon to chase away the shadows.

Just endless twilight.

The air thick with dust, and the horizon bleeding into oblivion. The blood moon land was a land where silence speaks volumes, a desolate prison whispered to hold lost ghosts. These tormented spirits, cloaked in the shadows of their own regrets, drifted aimlessly, their faces obscured by veils of sorrow. Those who carried burdens of unforgiven sins are said to wander here, forever tethered to their unending remorse.

It's a lonely, and desolate place.

But then…

Theon Horatio, the youngest prince of Wind Chime– a kingdom bathed in a sun of a different hue—was unlike his sister, who thrived in courtly squabbles. Theo yearned for the wilderness, the untamed and unknown. His soul craved adventure, freedom from the gilded cage of royalty.

A master of medicinal herbs and healing, ventured into the wilds of Unha Valley—a place renowned for its ancient and potent flora. This journey stirred something deeper within him. It wasn't just curiosity; it was a rebellion against a destiny he refused to accept, a desperate attempt to forge his own path, far from the suffocating expectations of his arranged marriage.

Beneath his stoic, handsome appearance—a facade of regal composure, marked by a chiselled jawline and hazel eyes that held a thousand unspoken secrets—resided a prince yearning for more than courtly duty and the expectations of his royal lineage. It was in the untamed wilderness of Unha Valley, amidst the ancient trees and the scent of earth after rain, that he encountered a woman whose presence stirred something profound within him. She began to chip away at his icy demeanour, revealing a man driven by a deeper purpose, capable of love that defied the very laws of existence…

Teleportation had never left Theo this drained. The soonest his feet touch the blood moon land, he collapses to his knees. This overwhelming fatigue catches him by surprise, considering his superior strength as an immortal. Channelling a quarter of his cultivation to resurrect Elena has sapped half of his energy.

Gasping for air, he allows himself to succumb to the pain that radiates throughout his body.

"Your Highness," a dark figure loomed over him, their tone devoid of emotion. "This is highly unusual."

Theo wasn't taken aback by the sudden appearance. He inhaled deeply, trying to regain his breath. "Indeed, guardian, this occurrence is rather peculiar. I am perplexed by this unforeseen turn of events," Theo responded with a tinge of concern in his voice.

"Understand that my presence in this realm is to prevent mortals from transgressing the border." the guardian intoned solemnly. "Interfering in the affairs of the living can have unforeseen consequences. We are deemed as beings of divine nature, and meddling in matters of life and death contradicts our essence."

"Perhaps there's no cause for alarm. I shall return to the palace without informing the guards of my arrival," Theo replied, striving to reassure the guardian while maintaining a composed demeanour.

"As you command, Your Highness," the guardian responded, acknowledging Theo's decision with a respectful nod.

Struggling to rise, Theo comprehended from their gaze that the guardian wouldn't overlook this.

Here in the blood moon land, the guardian existence mirrored the crimson moon that bled its light across this barren wasteland - neither dead nor alive, a figure of both reverence and fear, their presence a constant reminder of the thin veil between life and death. They had no name, only a title passed down through whispered legends, known by all but understood by none.

The guardian clad in a heavy, long, dark hooded cloak, that seemed to swallow the very ground beneath its feet. Perhaps this explained their spectral presence and their ability to appear and vanish like a wisp of smoke on the desolate land.

Through the shadowed hood, their gaze, as legend has it, could unveil the worst nightmares to any mere mortal. Their irises, ebony like the night, and their sclera, a dark scarlet akin to the moon on the land.

No immortal dared to defy them.

For the guardian's gaze could pierce through the very essence of a soul, exposing hidden truths and unspoken fears.

The guardian vanishes into thin air, Theo is left alone once more. Recalling Elena, he regretted not erasing her memory.

He was supposed to erase any traces, but that woman managed to disarm his defences. The palpitations persist. Cradling the card she gave him, her voice lingers in his ears.

"Find me at this address. I'll be waiting," she said.

Clutching his chest, attempting to calm the erratic thuds, he smiled. It's been too long since he felt this way. He resolves to return to her world, to find her again.

Princess Ramona Ares, his betrothed, the reigning beauty of a neighbouring kingdom, had once stirred Theo's heart, igniting a spark of affection within him. Her beauty was undeniable, her allure potent enough to captivate any man in their realm, and her presence commanded attention. Yet, as time passed, that spark never grew into the flame he had expected. Ramona's elegance, though captivating, lacked the warmth that he found in Elena, a mere mortal who had somehow touched him in ways no one else had. His heart now lay in turmoil, torn between duty and a newfound, unshakable desire.

Drawing closer to the border, the grand mythical gate slowly reappears until it fully materialises, solidifying until it stands fully formed. Stepping forward, Theo immerses himself in the portal, exhaustion consuming him once more.

This time, consciousness eludes him.

Uncertainty gnawed at him as his waning teleportation powers left him vulnerable, unable to control his landing. Yet, amidst the disorienting chaos, a familiar sensation anchored him—a delicate fragrance of fresh flowers, he's sure Ramona is close.

A pang of doubt crept into his mind. Elena. What did her scent evoke? The memory of her stirred a deeper longing within him. He ached to call out her name, to grasp at the fleeting remnants of her presence in his mind.

"Theon!"

As predicted, Ramona was there, her figure a flurry of motion as she dashed to his side. Her eyes, wide with alarm, searched his face with a mix of concern and fear. Her touch eases him, and footsteps approach, engulfing the scene in chaos.

"Prince Theon is wounded; summon the royal physician!"

Theo heard the command distantly, his vision dimmed at the edges, the world around him fading into a blur. A deep-seated wish formed in his heart—a fervent hope that it was Elena's comforting presence he felt beside him instead of Ramona's.

When consciousness eventually returned, he found himself alone in his chamber. The familiar surroundings, though grand, offered him no solace. Theo lay there, his resolve sharpening amidst the disquiet of his pain. He knew he had to return to Elena as soon as possible.

He rose from the confines of his chamber. The cold floor beneath his feet sent a shiver through him, the chill a stark contrast to the warmth he sought. Discomfort radiated from his core, a dull ache throbbing in time with the pounding in his head. He stumbled, clinging to the polished mahogany bedpost. A quick wash might chase away the sluggishness, he thought. However, he was met with a wave of dizziness upon straightening.

Regret gnawed at him, sharp and unforgiving. He had pushed himself too far, beyond the limits of his immortal endurance. As he slowly lowered himself back onto the bed, the world spun in a disorienting blur, tilting precariously with each movement. His body ached, the pain a dull but constant throb, and his mind swam with lingering doubts. The silence of the chamber was shattered by the hurried footsteps of his sister, her voice cutting through the haze of his thoughts, grounding him even as his strength slipped away.

"Your internal cultivation has sustained severe injury," she stated, assessing him with a practised eye. "You must remain in bed, Theon."

"Indeed," he rasped, the pain intensifying with every slightest movement. Even the light filtering through the window felt like a thousand needles, each one pricking and prodding his sensitive eyes.

Tiara held forth a porcelain cup filled with a noxious, dark concoction. "Drink this," she commanded. "It shall alleviate your suffering and aid in your recovery."

Desperation fueled his compliance. He downed the bitter liquid in a single, resolute swallow. The effect was almost immediate; a wave of lethargy surged through him, dulling the incessant throbbing pain and coaxing him back towards sleep.

"Elena…" he murmured softly, his final thought as consciousness slipped away from him.