Crisp, cool air welcomed the visitors as they stepped through the black portal and into the dark realm. There was not a drop of rain in the sky nor a roll of thunder on the horizon; a harsh contrast to the thick, gray haze that would often prelude a terrible storm. A faint, blue tint glazed over Ellie’s vision of the countryside to the right and the motionless sea to the left. She and her family spun around and observed the landscape with equal parts wonder and uncertainty.

Janus noted the surrounding landmarks and nodded. “It seems the gate has established itself near the Haven farmlands,” he said to Gerald, who scurried atop a nearby rock and peered out.

“Ah, from the face of the elder cedar tree!” He pointed a tiny finger at the great tree looming behind them. “I knew it would be a tree, or another cliff, or the side of a house. And you were afraid it’d be something terrible like a lavatory, Lord Janus.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes, well, it was impossible to determine the position of the connecting gate other than ‘in the Sanctified Lands’. You can’t blame me for being worried.”

“I suppose not.” Gerald waddled back to where the gate had been and touched the trunk. “Hm, yes yes, I’ll need to get used to this new location and relearn the route to Phiana. Oh, but I’ll miss the old clearing. It was convenient to get to, you know?”

“Beg your pardon,” Bram interrupted. “But, where are we? Wasn’t it just nighttime?”

“Looks like it’s gonna rain something fierce,” Vena said, watching the clouds.

Janus cleared his throat and took a step forward. “I promised an explanation, even if it will be rather difficult.” He gestured all around them to the tremendous valley between the dark, spire-like mountains. “The land you see before you is the Night Realm, something of a parallel to the Prime Realm from which you inhabit. It’s a land that thrives on long nights and short days, of which even then are darkened by thick clouds at all daylight hours except dawn.”

“Hold on, let me get this straight.” Vena touched her brow. “You’re saying we’re in a different… plane, or something? I’ve heard tales of such things from adventurers, but to actually visit one is…. Well, I wouldn’t say I’m underwhelmed. It just isn’t quite what I expected.”

“Were you expecting thrashing elements and air filled with prisms of vibrant magic?” Janus asked. “Perhaps it’s just as well it’s not, or the sight may befuddle your senses.”

“Maybe, but I’m still reeling from a rat using some kinda inter-dimensional travel magic.”

“My name is Gerald,” he added, his brow somber.

“And I take it this has been going on for awhile?” Vena looked at Janus expectantly.

“For several centuries we began sending rats to the Prime Realm, yes.”

A wide grin cracked on Vena’s face as she spun around and clutched Bram’s shoulders. “I wasn’t crazy! I really did see a rat disappear with a stump, then! In the clearing behind the house!”

“I’m sorry,” Irwin stuttered. He was bouncing on his heel, hoping to suppress his curiosities from spilling over in a hundred questions. “But, if there’s a Night Realm, does that mean there’s a Day Realm, too? Where the days are longer and the night sky is filled with a shiny haze?”

“I—” Janus paused, then scratched his chin. “I’m afraid I have no answer, as I don’t know one way or the other. Regardless, in this place you will find sanctuary from the Solar Cultists, as they would not dare chase you here themselves. I can answer further questions at a later time, but for now I will have Gerald escort you and your family to my home while I accompany Ellie to meet someone who can restore her memory—I hope.”

“Not without me you, aren’t.” Vena crossed her arms and approached Janus with a glare. “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the hospitality. But we still barely know you and given all that my daughter’s been through, it’ll be a cold day in every hell before I leave her alone in your care.”

Ellie winced and brought her palm to her forehead. “Mum, please. I’m not a child.”

“No, but you’re my child and I’m feeling rather over-protective, so I’ll just have to tag along wherever Janus takes you.”

“I understand.” He bowed his head respectfully. “I sense that you all wish to join, then? Despite your fatigue?” Each member of the Martel family nodded in answer.

“Are you sure you can handle it?” Vena asked her husband.

“Honestly, I feel better than I have in a long time,” Bram said with a chuckle. “Maybe it’s just the adrenaline, though, but I’m using that to my advantage.”

“Then let’s waste no more time.” Janus hoisted the bag of orbs over his shoulder and motioned the family to follow him to the shore down the nearby slope.

From there they headed north along the golden sands until they were parallel with a distant island. The sea was beautiful and unsettling; completely clear and utterly still. Waves did not splash the shore, making the body of water more akin to an endless, crystalline pond than an ocean or a lake. Beneath its glassy surface was a curiosity more astounding yet—vibrant trees trapped in the water whose decay was halted by the stalling of time. They stood in two thick lines with a trail leading to the island between them that was no larger than a road.

Janus stood before the trail and gazed at the distant island. When the Martel family had come to a stop not far behind, he took a deep breath and yelled out.

“Saint Soleil,” he began. “I, Janus Alscher, request—nay—require an audience with you.”

He was answered with silence. They waited, and it started to seem that Janus would not receive his audience. But then there was a rumbling, and the tree trunks sprang from beneath the water until their limbs stretched nearly fifty feet high above the surface. Roots protruded from below and hoisted a large, flat rock to the shore.

Droplets poured from the boughs like rain, and as the rock nestled into the sand, Janus placed the bag of orbs on the ground and stepped forward cautiously. He appeared hesitant when he glanced over his shoulder to see if the family was watching. Naturally they were, and a pained expression took form on his face. Gerald saw this and held his paws together as though in prayer.

As far from the water’s edge as possible, Janus stretched out one foot to touch the toe of his boot to the rock’s surface. But just as he was within the last inch, water crept up to Janus’s grounded foot and made him stagger in a way that made no logical sense. His balance was perfect, as the others perceived it, and not even twice the amount of water would cause someone to lose their foothold. And yet he had, so Janus backed away from the stone with an irritated sigh and drew his hand down the length of his face.

“It, ah, needs a moment. To dry.”

“Are you all right?” Bram asked.

“Quite.” Janus cleared his throat and pretended to be busy examining the trees.

They had no choice but to wait. Irwin and Lillian caught sight of a small, shelled creature beginning to burrow in the sand and trotted away to watch it. Bram and Vena, in the meantime, stayed with Ellie where she stood. It was a long couple of minutes, but despite the separate conversations going on between the two groups, Ellie herself remained relatively quiet. Vena noticed this and playfully bumped shoulders with her.

“What’s on your mind?”

“A lot,” Ellie said, chuckling ironically. “This is all so strange. Seeing the trees rise from the sea was like something from an adventurer’s tale, but the way I felt when we came through the portal, well… I wasn’t surprised. Like I’d seen it all before.”

“That’s because you have,” Janus said from near the rock. “The scenery near Haven became quite familiar to you during your two-month stay.” He looked thoughtfully up at the canopy. “Hard to believe that was now four months ago that you first arrived.”

“What do you mean, ‘two months’?” Vena’s tone drew the attention of her other children away from the small creature as it sank into the sand. “Ellie was gone only a week, and there’s more than a dozen people who can confirm that.”

Janus turned to them, a serious look on his face. “Time flows differently here in the Night Realm. At a rate of about ten days for every one that passes in the Prime Realm, I believe?” He looked to Gerald near Ellie’s feet, who gave a confirming nod.

“Did I already know that?” Ellie asked.

Janus shifted his weight and glanced away. “We, ah, neglected to mention it. At the risk of embarrassing myself, I must confess that I forgot about the difference in time’s flow. As did the few others that know of the Prime Realm, save for Gerald.”

“I’m the only one who goes there regularly,” he peeped. “So really, I should have been the one to mention it back then.”

“In my defense, before I chased after Ellie, I hadn’t been in the Prime Realm since I was forcibly torn from it four hundred years ago. Or forty, depending on where you are.”

“Forty years?” Bram repeated. “Gods, Vena and I were born forty years ago. And you say you’ve been in this place for four hundred?” He breathed an astonished laugh. “Well, those ears certainly explain your long life, but even elves don’t live for four hundred years. Unless you’re some sort of master magician? Unless aging is much slower here?”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Vena said. “Look at him; he doesn’t look a day over thirty. Unless he’s got four hundred years worth of the best youth tonic known to man, he’d look older by now. But if I’m wrong, maybe this place isn’t so bad, after all.”

“I know why.” Ellie’s eyes met with Janus’s. “It’s because of what that cultist said at the banquet. You’re a vampire.”

Each member of the family gasped, save for Lillian, who let out an elated holler. They felt foolish for not having noticed sooner, as the pale skin, red eyes, and noticeable fangs were all part of a vampire’s signature look. But they had little time to piece together the details in the night’s confusion.

“That I am,” he said, then turned away to veil the embarrassment trembling in his lips from being so scrutinized. “But fear not; I prefer the blood of animals provided to me by local butchers rather than that of mortals. Now then, I believe we’ve waited quite long enough for this damnable rock to dry.”

Janus faced his open palm to the rock and conjured a thin stream of fire to consume its surface. No sooner had the flame and its roar subsided when Gerald gave a frustrated groan.

“Oh, Lord Janus! Saint Soleil said ‘no fires’! What if one of the roots caught ablaze? You’d never hear the end of it and then for the next five years we’d have to borrow that old boat from the miller that smells like feet!”

“I know, and I hope she didn’t just happen to divine me in the act. But we can’t stand here waiting the rest of the day.” Exercising the same caution as before, Janus reached out the toe of his boot and touched the rock’s now bone-dry surface. He then stepped back, retrieved the bag of orbs, and jumped over the small strip of water hugging the makeshift platform. “Come along now.”

The family approached the rock and stared into the water. Given how Janus had treated it, they thought maybe it was acidic or filled with carnivorous fish.

Realizing the impression he had given, Janus coughed and rubbed his neck. “The water is perfectly safe, trust me. You’ve nothing to fear from getting your feet a little wet.”

“Could have fooled me,” Ellie snickered, then jumped onto the rock and assisted her father with her mother’s aid. The remaining three joined them once he was secured.

The rock glided slowly from one root to the next so smoothly that it felt like they were motionless. Drips of water plopped from the branches and occasionally landed on the rock, resembling the tail end of a pleasant rain.

The rock’s journey took a couple of minutes before it reached the opposite shore and nestled into island sands. Atop a small, grassy hill surrounded by oak trees sat a single, lonely cottage. Gerald was the first to hop down and immediately scurried on ahead up the hill. Janus led the rest up the short, winding path to the cottage, taking their time to keep with Bram’s slowed pace.

The cottage was a lovely structure, built from dark cobblestone laced with crawling ivy and topped with a thatched roof. Inside the rooms were dark, as seen from the dusted windows on either side of the mahogany door. It couldn’t have been any larger than the first level of the Martel house, if not a little smaller.

From around the bend came Gerald, who had gone to investigate the yard before Janus could knock on the front door.

“She’s meditating on the other side and will join us shortly,” he said.

“Understood. Thank you, Gerald.” Janus faced the family. “As her title suggests, Saint Soleil is a woman of great religious importance in this land. Please show her the same respect you would a member of the Order of the Triad.”

The group followed Gerald wordlessly to the backside of the cottage, where they were met with a small yard decorated with a stone altar and several short monoliths. Beyond that was a drop-off to the opposite shore facing the endless sea, accessible only by narrow steps on either side of the ledge.

There was a clacking sound from the stairs as a single person hoisted themselves up each step with the aid of a staff. They were adorned in a white, tattered noble’s dress and stopped just before a pedestal beside the stairs to reach for an elaborate crown of short, golden spokes.

“I was beginning to worry that a terrible fate befell you, Janus,” the woman said, placing the crown over her head like a helmet covering only the top half of the face. Peeking from the back was her loose, messily braided brunet hair, which followed her spine only as far as her shoulder blades. She turned to them, revealing the face of the golden mask like the sun peering over the eastern horizon. Though strangely there were no visible slits for the eyes to peer through, leaving its wearer in the dark. Radiating from this woman was a profound aura emulating the presence of a god.

The woman’s staff brattled against the stone path as she started toward them. It was mostly comprised of an unremarkable, twisting tree branch, but its tip was adorned with an elaborate symbol of the sun swirling with the same milky liquid as the orbs. Unbeknownst to Ellie’s amnesiac mind, the symbol bore resemblance to something she’d seen before.

“You must be Eleanor Martel.” Her voice was gentle and soothing, like a loving parent. “I’ve heard much about you. So vehemently did Janus petition to seek you out, despite the deadly threats that awaited him.” Her lips curled into a smile. “Though glad I am that he did, as now we are given the opportunity to meet one another. A meeting far too long overdue.”

With a final clack from her staff, the woman stood tall and peered blindly at her guests through the steel veil.

“I am Saint Soleil. It’s an honor to finally meet you.”