"Amira," calls the enchanted voice. In one snap, Amira finds herself back in the forest near their kingdom. She runs her eyes around to find the source of the voice. Behind her appears the spirit of the woods—the wood fairy— floating with the autumn leaves circling around her. "I'm back!" she exclaims. Her eyes sparkle in glee but her sudden happiness is washed off by the maiden's response. "Not yet, Amira." The fold on her forehead doublees as she states her contradiction. "No! I AM already home," she asserts her statement firmly. "I won't go back in the mortal world! That place isn't meant for me. Hauraya is my place! This is where I belong!" "Is that really what your heart says?" The wood maiden's words snatch the courage out of her, she strides back. Her voice rescinds. Hauraya maybe her place of birth but her memories of it are all but bitter. She ponders if

Amira snarls at the condition set by Liza. There's no way she'll give up the clasp. It's Hasham's gift to her, the symbol of their interminable love. "If you can't give up that hair clasp, how do we expect you to give us 'some of your jewels' then?" Liza disparages. "If you are really rich, it shouldn't be hard to let go of such a thing, right? She hates to admit it but she gets Liza's point. She is sure her gem hunting experience in the mortal world won't be easy and she'll be needing some help from some trustworthy mortals. Torn between giving up her clasp or giving up her mission, she decides to let go of the first. Reluctant, she hands over the clasp to Liza. "Please take care of it, it's precious to me. Once I got some jewels for you, I'll get back the clasp." Liza examines the clasp made of Musgravites the moment it lands on the rind of her palm. Satisfied, she carefully wraps it with a towel before inserting it into her worn-out sling bag. "I will IF i

Amira brushes her eyes open when from afar, metal clangs ding in her ears. The smell of rust and blood linger in her nostrils; she can't help but wonder where she is at.  Out of curiosity, she reaches for the bars and scans her eyes around the dim hallway. In hopes of escaping, she joggles it but fails. "Hey, is anybody here?" she wails but her voice just echoes back."Why am I in this cage? Let me go! I don't belong here!" In the absence of response, she roams her eyes around the corners of the cell and notices the kids sleeping on the cold hard ground. She bustles her way to them and wakes them all at once.  "Hey, wake up! Wake up!" she gulps but none of them opens their eyes. She listens for the heartbeat from each of their chest and when she confirms they are still alive, panic de-escalates. She rests her back on the cemented wall and thinks about what has happened, what awaits them in that cell, and if she'll ever find what s

The wind passes through the gaps between them, blowing the loose hair on Amira's face. She looks at Kian intently in an attempt to read what's in his mind. She needs to know what he knows. She needs to know if he is an enemy or a foe yet she can't get through his mind. He isn't dragon after all.Back in their lesson when they were little, they've been taught that humans are cunning. They despise dragons the way the ancestral dragons despise them. Yes, dragons are more stronger and more powerful than humans but why in the end, they've been defeated and thwarted by a mortal. She has to find the heart of magic and bring it back to its right place to keep the peacefulness of both realm but she has to be careful whom to trust. She has to be careful with her actions."If I am not a human, what am I then?"Silence."A witch? A vampire, a nymph or...a dragon perhaps? Who would frustratedly growl in the middle of t

Standing still inside the garter throne hall, Amira waits patiently 'til the ones she's waiting for arrive. The ceiling of which is covered with chandeliers whereas the front smells gold. The servants guarding her in the room arch their upper body down as the huge door behind them slides open. Thumps of feet echo inside the spacious hall as the King and the Queen of the monarchy march toward the throne. Tailing behind them are Pyro, the right-hand man, and their youngest son, prince Kian. "You may leave us here," the Queen orders, leaving five of them behind. As the huge door closes, giving them privacy, the king speaks. "My son informed me that a fine lady such as you is looking for a particular gem in our palace. Can you describe the one that belongs to you and why do you think you'll find it here?" "There maybe hundreds or thousands of jewels that vary in physical properties and va