The creature's words echoed in my mind.
He is your other half.
I stared at Shawshank.
He stared back at me.
Neither of us understood.
"What does that mean?" I finally asked.
The creature smiled.
"You have spent your entire life searching for the missing part of yourself."
My hand moved instinctively to my chest.
"My soul?"
"Yes."
I shook my head.
"My soul was divided."
The creature nodded.
"And you were told that the queen stole half of it."
My eyes widened.
"She did."
"No."
The creature's voice became deeper.
"She only took what she was given."
A cold feeling spread through my body.
"Given by who?"
The creature looked toward the sea.
"Your mother."
I turned toward Marina.
She was standing several steps away.
Her face was covered with tears.
"Marina?"
She closed her eyes.
The creature laughed.
"She knew the truth."
Marina finally spoke.
"I didn't have a choice."
I felt betrayed.
"You knew?"
She nodded.
"When you were born, your power was too strong. Your soul was tearing itself apart."
"That's what everyone told me."
"But it wasn't the whole truth."
My heart pounded.
"What aren't you telling me?"
Marina looked at Shawshank.
"He was connected to you from the beginning."
Shawshank stepped forward.
"How?"
Marina's voice trembled.
"When Bjei was born, her soul was not divided into two pieces."
Silence.
"It was divided between two beings."
My eyes widened.
"What?"
Marina looked at me.
"One half remained inside Bjei."
Then she looked at Shawshank.
"The other was placed inside him."
The world seemed to disappear.
I looked at Shawshank.
"No."
He shook his head.
"No."
The creature laughed.
"You were never strangers."
Shawshank stepped backward.
"That's impossible."
Azrael suddenly spoke.
"It was the only way."
Shawshank turned toward him.
"You knew?"
Azrael lowered his head.
"Yes."
Shawshank's face changed.
"You knew that part of Bjei was inside me?"
"Yes."
"And you never told me?"
"I was afraid."
Shawshank's eyes filled with anger.
"You're always afraid."
Azrael didn't respond.
I stepped between them.
"Wait."
Everyone looked at me.
"If part of my soul is inside Shawshank…"
I looked at him.
"Does that mean our love isn't real?"
Shawshank's face broke.
"Bjei…"
"Answer me."
Marina stepped forward.
"No."
She shook her head.
"Your soul being connected doesn't control your feelings."
The creature laughed.
"Not yet."
I turned toward it.
"What does that mean?"
It smiled.
"The moment he dies…"
The creature pointed at Shawshank.
"…your missing half dies with him."
My blood ran cold.
Shawshank looked at me.
"And if she dies?"
The creature smiled.
"You die too."
Silence.
I could barely breathe.
Shawshank walked toward me.
"Then we stay together."
I shook my head.
"No."
"Bjei—"
"We find another way."
"There may not be one."
"There has to be."
I grabbed his face.
"I refuse to believe the only way to save myself is to lose you."
His eyes softened.
"And I refuse to let you sacrifice yourself for me."
The creature watched us.
Almost amused.
Then it spoke.
"You are finally beginning to understand."
"Understand what?"
"You were never meant to be separated."
The golden mark on my chest suddenly appeared.
At the same moment, Shawshank's mark appeared.
The two marks began glowing.
A golden thread formed between us.
But this time, something was different.
The thread wasn't pulling us together.
It was pulling something out of the sea.
The water behind the creature began swirling.
A huge golden door appeared beneath the waves.
The creature's smile disappeared.
"No."
I stared at the door.
"What is that?"
Seraphina whispered,
"The First Door."
Azrael looked terrified.
"It was destroyed centuries ago."
Seraphina shook her head.
"No."
She looked at me.
"It was waiting for her."
My heart pounded.
"For me?"
She nodded.
The door began opening.
A warm golden light poured through the water.
And suddenly I heard a voice.
A woman's voice.
Soft.
Familiar.
"Bjei."
I froze.
I knew that voice.
My grandmother's.
But she was standing beside me.
I turned toward her.
Her face had gone pale.
"That isn't my voice," she whispered.
The voice came again.
"Come inside."
The creature backed away.
For the first time, it looked afraid.
"Don't open that door."
I stared at it.
"Why?"
It didn't answer.
"Why?"
The creature finally whispered,
"Because the last person who opened it…"
It looked at Shawshank.
"…never came back."
Shawshank looked at me.
"Then we're not opening it."
But the golden door was already opening.
And from inside…
a figure slowly stepped forward.
A young woman.
She had my face.
My eyes.
My hair.
My golden mark.
She looked directly at me.
Then she smiled.
"I've been waiting for you."
I couldn't move.
The woman raised her hand.
And whispered:
"I'm the part of you that was never supposed to survive."