They finally reach the ground, and Cobalt guides Ira to a wide path of pale, iridescent cobblestones that shimmer faintly beneath their feet. Ira doesn't recognize the material — as is the case with much of this mysterious place, it feels both ancient and alive.
They walk together in silence, following the straight, sun-dappled road. Every step hums with energy. Every breath tastes of alertness and depth. Ira soaks in the beauty, the balance, the feeling of the place — a civilization rooted in something deeper, more intelligent than logic.
Eventually, the path leads them past a palatial, open-air structure — tall pillars draped in gossamer curtains that billow softly in the breeze, framing its elegant silhouette. Without hesitation, Cobalt turns and leads her alongside the building, not slowing or speaking until they reach the large backyard.
A wide patio opens before them, paved in the same pale stones. Vines braid themselves around the slender pale, sun-soaked wooden beams that outline its edges, forming a colonnade. The roof is open, offering a full view of the twin suns warming the sky. A massive wisteria plant cascades overhead, its blossoms oversized and heavy, rich with perfume.
But for the first time since arriving, Ira feels sad.
It's quiet. Too quiet. No furniture. No voices. No signs of life. Nothing about this feels lived in.
She swallows the feeling and turns to Cobalt. "What is this place?"
He studies her, his expression unreadable. Then: "I needed to test a theory. Does this place make you…feel anything?"
"Feel anything? Like what?" she repeats, voice wary.
"Will you humor me? Close your eyes. Inhale and exhale. Tell me what you feel."
"Okay." She exhales, skeptical but willing.
Closing her eyes, she centers herself. Listens. Breathes.
Then, she feels it. A ghost of a feeling that originates in her heart space. A soft sensation of longing. Of loneliness. A community once bustling with life, with love, now gone.
"It feels… empty to me."
She opens her eyes to see Cobalt frowning slightly.
"Empty? Of course it's empty. Be serious, Ira."
A streak of annoyance runs through her. "I am being serious. It's empty."
Cobalt says, "Empty. What else."
"Like I said: empty. Lonely. Like a hollowed-out heart that remembers what it was like to be full," She replies.
She looks around now, saddened. The beauty of the place remains, but it is tinged with something spectral.
"I can feel…ghosts. Ghosts of a memory. People that lingers in the space. A kind of grief… the kind that only exists when there was once great love. It's like I can almost hear the gatherings, the laughter that once filled this space. But it's gone now. It feels almost worse to me, that it was once here and now is…is lost."
Cobalt is still. The look on his face tells her she's confirmed something he hadn't wanted to say aloud.
He begins slowly. "This was once the king's home. He ruled here with his family. A large family. They loved each other fiercely. Their home was once full of life. Of joy. Until one day, he vanished. They all did. The palace emptied as if it had never been occupied. No war. No violence. Just silence. No one knows what happened."
"And no one looked for them? No one wanted to replace him?"
Cobalt just shrugs. "They were a solitary family. Didn't let outsiders in. And the people didn't need a ruler. They flourished without one. You've seen it," Cobalt gestures to his surroundings. "This society bloomed in ways no one imagined possible without a ruler."
"But you want to know. What happened to the family," Ira presses.
He nods. "Yes. And when I met you… I immediately thought of this place."
"Why?"
"Come with me."
He leads her back around the front of the palace to a low pillar set near the entrance. Embedded in its face is a smooth stone — deep blue, set in silver.
Her breath catches. It matches her ring exactly. His eyes exactly.
Ira swallows, her fingers instinctively curling to hide the glow. She'd thought she'd been subtle. Thought he hadn't seen it. Apparently not.
"How are you connected to this place?" She asks him then. He doesn't reply at first.
"There's more to this than either of us understands," Cobalt says finally. "More to it than I've ever been able to figure out. But I've been thinking maybe together, we can start to figure it out?"
He looks at her, a question in those deep blue eyes.
More like a plea. She thinks.
Instead of asking more questions, Ira follows her heart. She looks at him, at the sincerity in his expression, and nods. "I'd like that."
Back in Noctreign, she'd always felt adrift — like a ship without anchor, without harbour. This felt like an opportunity. Sure, there was no harbour here either… but there was something different. Something equally tempting, if not what her heart truly longed for.
"Are you missing your world?" Cobalt asks gently.
Ira snorts. "Noctreign? No. Not really."
"But… someone back home might be missing you?"
She thinks of Joanna.
"I guess," she says, reluctantly.
He nods in understanding. "Come with me."
He leads her down the path again, back toward the center of the city — toward a courtyard framed by trees and songbirds. In its center, a great fountain glitters like liquid crystal. Beside it, a wide arch rises from the ground — carved from the same pale stone, radiant with morning light. The center of the arch is translucent but shimmers like glass, impossible to see through.
"This is how you can get home," Cobalt says, gesturing towards the arch.
Ira's eyes widen. "Can I…come back?" She says breathlessly. She'd thought getting home would be arduous. Another strange journey, just like the one that led her here. This feels so easy. So sudden. So…soon.
Cobalt's expression softens with relief at her question. "I'm not sure." He says with sincerity. "No one ever has. Not in my lifetime, at least. But I believe you could. I believe you're meant to. And I think that ring has something to do with it."
She glances down at it. Her mother's ring. The blue light glows softly from the sapphire. Tears form in her eyes.
Cobalt reaches forward to touch her chin. "If it helps," Cobalt says, "I've found in life that sometimes you have to just follow the feeling and let the mind catch up later."
He brushes a tear away from her cheek.
"I think you're meant to be here. But it's been a lot, in a very short amount of time. I felt it was only right to show you that you can leave, that there is a way to get home."
She looks up at him, emotion brimming in her red eyes. "This has been… confusing. But it's meant something to me. More than I can explain."
He nods.
"What will it look like? The door back home, when I want to come back here?" she asks.
"I don't know," he admits. "What led you here the first time?"
"A feeling," she says.
"Then follow that. Trust it."
Ira looks at him, her decision is clear now. She needs to go home. She needs time. Time to process, to make peace with this strange, extraordinary reality. To decide how much she's willing to let it change her. To decide what she is going to do.
But one thing she knows without doubt, feels it in her heart: she will return.
So, she looks back at him. And then takes a step through the portal.
She doesn't think she'll ever forget the image of him then as she stands beneath the pale archway — his indigo eyes glow in the soft morning light. The sunlight catches in the loose strands of his dark chestnut curls and the faint gleam of the ruby ring on his hand. There's something in his face — not sadness, not longing — belief. As if he already knows this isn't goodbye. As if he's already dreaming of the moment they'll meet again.
And in that, they are the same.