Chapter 11 – A World That Will Never Be the Same
The sky of the human world was overcast when Lumina opened her eyes.
There was no scent of spirit flowers, no gentle hum of astral energy that usually comforted her at home.
Only a heavy air, dense with something unseen.
Enver stood not far from her, silent. He said nothing, only looked.
But Lumina knew—they had crossed over.
The human world.
"Why did you bring me here?" Lumina asked softly, her voice still trembling.
Enver didn't answer right away. He simply walked, motioning for her to follow.
As they passed through streets that looked ordinary to human eyes, Lumina saw something that made her body freeze.
Creatures.
Black, long, some resembling thin arms stretching from people's shoulders.
Some hovered like fog above heads.
These astral beings laughed silently, whispering words only those with spirit-sight could hear.
"You see them?" Enver asked without turning.
Lumina swallowed. "What are they?"
"The ones who feed on intent, who absorb sorrow, who whisper decay.
Most humans have no idea they're being controlled. But I can see them. And purify them."
Enver pulled a card from inside his coat. A dark symbol pulsed faintly on its surface.
He approached a man at the end of the street—well-dressed, smiling, politely greeting passersby.
But in his eyes, Lumina saw swirling shadows like an endless vortex.
Enver placed the card on the man's back.
In an instant, the man shuddered.
No one else noticed, but he paused—then tears fell silently from his eyes.
The astral being clinging to him writhed, then burned in soft, holy light.
"He can still be saved," Enver said. "But not all of them can."
They kept walking.
Lumina began to understand:
This was not the world she had imagined.
Every human carried weight.
Every soul bore a crack.
And every crack invited something... from their world.
"And you? You purify all of them by yourself?" Lumina asked.
"Not alone. But few are able."
Day faded into night.
Lumina sat on the rooftop of a building, staring at the city lights.
Above her, the sky looked darker than the one back home.
No spirit stars.
No sky guardians.
Only loneliness creeping in like fog.
"I… miss home," she whispered.
Enver looked at her.
This time, his eyes seemed to understand.
But he didn't say she should return.
He knew—even if her body returned home, her soul had already changed.
What she saw in this world would not be easily forgotten.
Lumina didn't sleep that night.
She watched people from afar.
How they laughed, argued, walked, ran.
But beneath it all, there were creatures—twisting, slithering, hiding.
By morning, Lumina began to help.
She didn't know how, but she stood beside Enver.
Quietly, she tried to understand how he identified the souls in need of purification.
She didn't ask much.
But she watched.
And she felt.
For the first time, she didn't feel like a princess from a powerful family.
She felt small. Fragile.
And… truly alive.
This world, with all its darkness and creatures, slowly touched a part of her she had never known before.