The night fell heavy, like a velvet curtain drawn tight across the world.
Qamar Village lay silent in its dark sleep. But the desert beyond was alive ... alive in a way that made Layla's skin hum and her breath catch.
She stood at the edge of the sands again, her lantern faintly glowing in her hand, though she couldn't say why she carried it. The winds curled around her ankles, warm and whispering.
And somewhere… far but near… he was calling her.
"Dreamer… tonight."
The words came soft but sharp, slicing through the quiet like a blade.
"Tonight you will see."
She pressed her free hand to her chest, willing her racing heart to calm.
The sands shifted faintly beneath her bare feet, the grains glittering faint gold, as though lit from below. She had seen them do this before … but never so bright, never so deliberate.
They almost seemed to lead her.
And she followed.
Step by step, the desert opened before her … unfamiliar now, strange ridges rising like the ribs of some buried beast, the stars above dimming as though the sky itself was watching.
She didn't stop.
Couldn't stop.
Because his voice filled her again … not louder, but closer.
"Dreamer… you're almost there."
"Almost…"
She whispered back without thinking:
"Where are you?"
A faint laugh …. Cracked but beautiful … drifted to her.
"I am where I've always been. Waiting beyond what you see."
The words struck something deep in her.
Because she knew, suddenly, that she didn't see.
She'd been walking her whole life in a world that wasn't hers, wearing a name that didn't quite fit, breathing air that never fully filled her lungs.
She didn't belong here.
She never had.
The sands rose higher around her now, forming a circle of jagged golden rocks and whispering winds.
And there … at the center of the circle … stood something she'd never seen before.
A doorway.
Or at least… the shape of one.
It stood tall and thin, made entirely of shifting sand and wind and faint starlight. No hinges, no wood, no stone … just a frame cut into the air itself, pulsing faintly gold.
Layla stopped at its threshold, her chest tightening.
The winds here were colder, sharper. They tugged at her scarf, hissed through her hair, sang in her ears in strange, hollow voices.
"This is it," she breathed.
And as though in answer, his voice returned … louder now, though heavy with strain.
"The Door Between."
Her fingers ached to reach out and touch it, but something in her stilled her.
"What is it?" she whispered.
"It is the way to me," he answered, every word wrapped in exhaustion. "But not without a price. Not without a choice."
"Tell me," she demanded.
He was silent for a moment. Then:
"It is a place where your world ends… and mine begins."
The sands under her feet shimmered faintly, as though agreeing.
"You are already changing, Dreamer," he continued, his voice softer now, but no less intense. "Haven't you noticed? How they look at you in your village? Haven't you felt it? That you don't belong to them anymore?"
Tears burned at her eyes, though she didn't let them fall.
"I have," she admitted.
"Then you know," he whispered.
"But what's on the other side?"
A pause.
Then, softer than the desert's hush:
"Me."
Her breath caught, and she closed her eyes.
Of course.
It had always been him.
She felt her fingers trembling as she finally raised her hand toward the golden light of the doorway.
But before she could touch it, the sands around her shuddered violently, and a dark wind rose … colder than she'd ever known, slamming into her chest, knocking her backward.
"Not yet," hissed a strange, low voice.
She stumbled, falling to her knees, clutching her lantern.
"Who's there?" she shouted into the dark.
But the voice only hissed again, this time colder:
"You don't belong to him. You belong to us."
The winds roared, sand stinging her cheeks, tearing her scarf from her shoulders and scattering it into the night.
And faintly, through the storm, she heard Malik's voice … faint, desperate:
"Dreamer …. no! Don't listen! It's the darkness … it lies …"
But the storm swallowed his words.
Layla curled into herself, shielding her eyes as the dark winds howled and the doorway dimmed, then faded completely into nothingness.
When the winds died down, the desert was silent.
Her hands were bleeding from clutching the lantern too hard, her scarf was gone, her knees bruised and her chest heaving.
But she didn't cry.
Because she could still feel him.
Even through the silence.
Even through the darkness.
He was still there.
And she knew one thing, with unshakable clarity:
She would find the Door Between again.
And this time … nothing would stop her.
Later that night, she lay on her bed in Qamar, staring at the ceiling, the faint light of the stars spilling through her window.
The villagers had been worse tonight … whispers following her, stones thrown at her feet, women spitting on the ground as she passed.
"Witch."
"Not one of us."
"She'll bring ruin here."
She had simply walked past them, her head high, her eyes full of fire they couldn't understand.
Because she didn't belong to them.
She never had.
She dreamed of him again.
But it was different this time … harsher, more jagged, like shards of glass in her mind.
He was still standing atop the broken spire, but now he was on his knees, the darkness curling around his arms like snakes, his golden light dimming.
"Dreamer…"
His voice was weaker now, but still beautiful, still full of impossible love.
"It's harder now. Every whisper costs me more."
She reached for him in the dream, but the winds kept her back.
"Then stop," she whispered, her voice breaking.
"Never," he said immediately, his eyes burning into hers.
"Why not?"
He smiled faintly … sad and full of longing.
"Because you're the only thing in all of this that's real."
"Malik…"
"Even if it kills me," he murmured his voice like silk and storm, "I will whisper you into madness. I will keep you dreaming of me."
Her chest ached at his words, her tears hot on her cheeks even in the dream.
And then, softly, his final words before the dream shattered:
"Find me."
"Call me. I'll come."
Layla woke before dawn, her lantern glowing faintly gold.
She sat up, her hands still trembling, her heart pounding.
The villagers' curses still rang in her ears.
The darkness's hiss still crawled in her mind.
But his words drowned them all out.
"Find me."
"Call me. I'll come."
She rose from her bed, her bare feet cool on the floor, her lantern in hand.
And as she stared out at the endless sands beyond the village, her lips curved into the faintest, fiercest smile.
Because she would find the Door Between again.
And this time … she wouldn't hesitate.
She would call him.
And he would come.