Sara Weller wiped the sweat from her brow, squinting under the relentless sun. The desert wind carried the scent of dust and something older—ancient, buried secrets that whispered beneath the sand. Around her, the excavation site buzzed with quiet excitement, but Sara stood alone near the edge, her boots sinking slightly into the dry earth.
She preferred it this way. Close to the past. Far from the noise.
"Weller! You're always wandering off."
Professor Darzi's voice echoed from behind, half annoyed, half amused.
Sara offered a distracted wave without looking up. Her focus was locked on the broken fragments of stone peeking through the sand. Symbols she couldn't read were etched into the surface—sharp, fluid, and… oddly familiar. Like something she had dreamed once and forgotten.
"It's not wandering if I find something," she muttered, kneeling beside the stones.
As her gloved fingers brushed them clean, a glint of silver caught her eye.
An amulet.
It was nestled between two jagged slabs like it had been waiting for her. Oval in shape, engraved with markings that shimmered faintly despite the shade, and strung on a blackened chain that looked far too intact for its age. Her breath caught. She didn't know why—but touching it felt wrong and right at the same time.
She reached out anyway.
The moment her skin met the metal, a jolt of cold surged up her arm. The wind died. Sound vanished. Even the sunlight seemed to hesitate.
The world was silent—unnaturally still.
Sara's heart raced. The amulet pulsed once in her hand, and something ancient stirred in her mind. A word came unbidden to her lips, spoken in a language she didn't know.
"Val'kharen."
The ground trembled. The sky fractured like glass, a blinding light tearing through reality itself. Before she could scream, everything vanished.
---
She awoke on her knees, surrounded by trees too tall and beautiful to exist. Their leaves shimmered with hues of emerald and violet, glowing faintly with magic. The air was warm and charged, thick with energy that tingled across her skin.
Sara staggered to her feet. The amulet was still clutched in her palm, warm now, as if pleased.
"What… where am I?"
She spun around—and froze.
A man stood at the edge of the clearing. Tall. Armored. His presence felt like a blade against her throat, not because he moved, but because he didn't. He was still as stone, yet something about him screamed danger. His eyes, shadowed beneath a helm, locked with hers.
He didn't speak.
Neither did she.
But in that moment, Sara knew: this wasn't Earth. This was somewhere else—somewhere magic lived and stories were still being written.
And she was part of it now.