Fractured Pages

Elena's first breath of the morning was heavy with the scent of parchment and ink, a sharp contrast to the usual aroma of coffee that drifted from her kitchen. Confusion crackled through her like static electricity. She sat up, and the world around her wavered, not with the bleary haze of waking but with something deeper, something wrong.

This wasn't her bedroom.

The bed was carved mahogany and draped in rich, emerald-green velvet. The walls stretched upward, lined with towering bookshelves overflowing with ancient tomes, their spines gilded and embossed in silver. A grand window revealed a sky streaked in twilight hues, even though she had gone to sleep at midnight.

Recognition struck her like a thunderclap. This was the study of Prince Aldric, the enigmatic anti-hero from The Kingdom of Ash and Moonlight, her favourite novel. But the realization carried a bitter undercurrent: this wasn't supposed to happen.

Elena scrambled out of bed, her heart pounding in her ears. She rushed to the mirror above the dresser, half-expecting to see someone else staring back. But no, her reflection remained unchanged—same unruly dark curls, same wide brown eyes filled with panic.

"Alright," she whispered. "Think, Elena. What's the last thing you remember?"

She had dozed off rereading the book for the umpteenth time, imagining herself alongside Aldric, watching the kingdom's descent into chaos. But she had never wished to be in the story. Had she?

A sudden knock on the door jolted her from her thoughts. The door creaked open, revealing a figure swathed in black, his face half-shrouded in shadow. Aldric. Her breath hitched. He was just as she had envisioned—tall, angular features, piercing storm-grey eyes—but something was off. His expression, usually lined with the burden of prophecy, was softer, almost uncertain.

"Elena," he said, voice laced with familiarity. "Finally, you're awake."

Her stomach twisted. He knew her name. He wasn't supposed to.

Swallowing hard, she feigned calm. "Of course. What… what day is it?"

Aldric's brows furrowed. "The eve of the Solar Eclipse. The prophecy nears completion."

Elena's pulse hammered. That wasn't right. The Solar Eclipse was the book's climax when Aldric would choose between the crown and his heart. But this was too soon.

The timeline was wrong.

Something had changed.

She had to test the waters. "And the Oracle's vision?" she asked hesitantly.

Aldric's gaze darkened. "You saw it yourself, didn't you?"

A chill slithered down her spine. "Saw it?"

He exhaled sharply as though tired of playing games. "You've been with me since the beginning, Elena. Don't pretend you don't remember."

A flash of vertigo overtook her, a gnawing uncertainty clawing at her mind. That wasn't right. She was a reader, not a character. Wasn't she?

But the way Aldric looked at her and the study's candlelit glow, which felt too real against her skin, made her question her own certainty.

Something was bending the rules of reality, and she was caught in its grip.

Determined to find an answer, Elena played along, navigating the world as if she belonged. The court bustled with nobles dressed in finery, the scent of spiced wine curling through the grand halls. But tiny inconsistencies gnawed at her—details she knew by heart had warped. Once a silver crescent, the royal sigil was now a full moon. The queen, meant to be a shrewd strategist, now spoke in riddles as though entranced.

And worst of all, Aldric was changing.

He was no longer the tormented prince burdened by fate. He spoke of past conversations she had no memory of, his trust in her absolute. The book's narrative was unravelling, and Elena feared she was its cause.

One night, under the cover of darkness, she snuck into the royal archives. If this world was rewriting itself, she needed proof. Her fingers traced the spines of familiar texts until she found The Kingdom of Ash and Moonlight, nestled between law tomes.

With trembling hands, she flipped to the final chapter. Her blood ran cold.

Her name was inked within the prophecy.

The kingdom's fate will rest upon the hands of the lost daughter, who bridges the realms of ink and bone.

Elena staggered back. That wasn't in the book she knew.

She wasn't part of the story. Was she?

She retraced her memories, searching for an explanation. Then it hit her. The storm, the strange flickering of her book's pages just before she drifted asleep—what if it wasn't a dream? What if something had pulled her into the story? Perhaps the book, or some force within it, had been waiting for her all along.

A voice cut through the silence. "You've seen it now."

Aldric stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable. But his eyes burned with something knowing.

"You were never just a reader, Elena," he murmured, stepping closer. "You were always meant to be here."

Her mind reeled. "But how? Why do you know my name?"

Aldric sighed. "The Oracle told me before she fell into her trance. She foresaw your coming, the girl from beyond the veil of pages. She said you would tip the scales of fate."

Elena swallowed hard. "Tip the scales how?"

He hesitated. "The Solar Eclipse is more than a celestial event. It is a doorway. A moment when the barriers between worlds grow thin. The kingdom will either rise anew… or collapse into darkness."

Elena's heart pounded. "And I'm supposed to decide?"

Aldric nodded grimly. "The prophecy says you alone can determine the king's fate. And mine."

Elena had a role to play whether she had been written into the story or had rewritten it herself.

And the final chapter had yet to be written.