We walked for what felt like hours. The air grew colder as we descended deeper into the tunnels, the walls narrowing until they were barely wide enough for the two of us to squeeze through side by side. The obsidian glow faded, replaced by the rough, earthy texture of stone and sand. I couldn't tell if it was my imagination or if the air was actually getting thinner, but every breath felt heavier, weighted with tension and exhaustion.

"Are we almost there?" I asked, breaking the silence. My voice sounded small, muffled by the oppressive closeness of the walls.

Darius glanced over his shoulder, his jaw tight. "Almost where?"

"Well, I don't know," I shot back. "You're the one leading. I figured you had some kind of plan."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't have a plan, Alexia. I don't even know where we are. I'm just following the path and hoping it leads somewhere."

"Oh, great," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "Fantastic leadership. Really inspiring."

"Do you ever stop complaining?" he snapped.

"Do you ever stop pretending you know what you're doing?" I countered.

He turned around fully, glaring at me. "Look, I'm doing the best I can, okay? This isn't exactly my idea of a fun adventure either."

For a moment, we just stood there, staring each other down in the dim light. Then the walls seemed to press closer, a reminder of how small and suffocating this space really was.

"Fine," I said finally, throwing up my hands. "Let's just keep walking and see where this death trap leads us."

Darius shook his head but turned and started moving again, muttering something under his breath that I couldn't quite catch. I didn't ask him to repeat it.

The path continued to narrow, forcing us to move single file. I felt like the walls were closing in, and I had to fight the urge to claw at the stone, to break through to open air. My shoulders brushed the rough surface on either side, and the pendant around my neck thudded softly against my chest with each step.

Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore—when I was about two seconds away from screaming at the universe to give us a break—the tunnel abruptly widened.

The ground beneath us sloped upward, and the oppressive stone walls gave way to open air. Blinding sunlight poured in, and I stumbled back, shielding my eyes with my arm.

"Finally," I breathed, blinking against the glare.

Darius stepped out first, his face unreadable as he scanned our surroundings. I followed, and my stomach dropped.

We were outside again, but it wasn't much of an improvement. Dunes stretched out in every direction, endless waves of sand that shimmered in the heat. The sky was a piercing, cloudless blue, the sun beating down mercilessly.

"Well," I said, putting my hands on my hips, "this is... bleak."

Darius ignored me, crouching down to examine the sand. "We must be somewhere south of the capital," he said, mostly to himself. "But I don't recognize any of these landmarks."

I snorted. "Landmarks? You mean the sand? Oh yeah, I'm sure that particular grain over there looks super familiar."

He shot me a glare. "I'm serious, Alexia."

"So am I!" I gestured to the dunes around us. "It's sand, Darius. Just sand. I don't see how you're going to navigate your way out of this."

"Do you have a better idea?" he snapped.

I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Because, no, I didn't have a better idea. I had no idea.

We were stranded in the middle of nowhere with no food, no water, and no clue how to get back. And honestly? I was starting to panic.

"What do we do now?" I asked, my voice quieter, more uncertain.

Darius stood, brushing the sand off his hands. "First, we figure out where we are. Then we figure out how to get back."

"Wow," I said, clapping slowly. "Amazing plan. Truly revolutionary."

"Alexia," he said warningly.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Fine. Whatever. Let's just... pick a direction and start walking."

He nodded, and we started moving, the sand shifting beneath our feet with every step. It was slow going, the heat sapping our energy and the endless dunes giving us no sense of progress.

"How do you even know we're going the right way?" I asked after a while, my voice tinged with frustration.

"I don't," he admitted. "But staying still isn't an option."

I fell silent after that, too tired to argue. The sun climbed higher in the sky, its relentless heat beating down on us. My throat was dry, my legs felt like lead, and every step felt harder than the last.

After what felt like an eternity, I stopped, dropping onto the sand with a groan. "I can't," I said, throwing an arm over my face to block out the sun. "I need a break."

Darius turned back to look at me, his expression softening. He sat down beside me, his shoulders slumping. "You're right. We need to rest."

We sat there in silence, the vast emptiness around us pressing down like a physical weight. For the first time since we'd escaped, the full reality of our situation hit me. We were lost. Truly, completely lost. And the longer we stayed out here, the worse our chances of survival became.

"What if we can't get back?" I whispered, voicing the fear that had been gnawing at the back of my mind.

Darius didn't answer right away. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. "We'll find a way. We have to."

"So... let's say, hypothetically, we manage to survive this desert, find some magical route back to your city, and avoid getting killed by that monster or your uncle's minions. Then what?" My tone was sharp, but I wasn't trying to be mean. I was just tired—tired of running, tired of not knowing, tired of this whole mess.

Darius, sitting cross-legged beside me with his gaze fixed on the horizon, turned his head toward me. His face was solemn, his usual calm confidence replaced with something heavier, more burdened.

"I have to get back to my father," he said quietly. "I have to find a way to cure him."

I raised an eyebrow, a bit thrown by his blunt response. "That's... ambitious," I said, brushing sand off my legs. "And how exactly are you planning to do that? You know, considering we're stranded in the middle of nowhere, and your uncle framed us for murder."

"I don't know," he admitted, rubbing his hands together as if trying to warm himself despite the heat. "But I can't just abandon my people. If my father doesn't recover..." He trailed off, his jaw tightening. "If he doesn't recover, my uncle will take the throne. And he will destroy everything. He'll turn the kingdom into a wasteland of fear and cruelty. I can't let that happen."

I stared at him, my sarcastic comeback catching in my throat. He wasn't being dramatic. I could see the desperation in his eyes, the sheer weight of the responsibility crushing down on him. It was almost enough to make me feel bad for him. Almost.

"You need my help," I said flatly, folding my arms. It wasn't a question—it was a statement. I already knew the answer.

"Yes," he said, meeting my gaze directly. "I do."

I huffed, leaning back on my hands and staring up at the sky. "Great. Fantastic. So now I'm supposed to be what, your knight in shining armor? Newsflash, Darius—I'm not exactly equipped to fight an evil overlord or save a kingdom."

"You're more capable than you think," he said, his tone surprisingly gentle.

I snorted. "Yeah, sure. And the next thing you'll tell me is that I'm destined to save the world or some other nonsense."

He hesitated for a second too long, and I shot him a glare. "Oh, come on! Don't give me that look. I'm not some chosen one, okay? I'm just a girl who accidentally stumbled into your world because of a stupid necklace."

"The necklace," he said quietly, "chose you for a reason."

"Oh, spare me the mystic mumbo-jumbo," I said, throwing my hands up. "Even if I wanted to help—which, for the record, I'm still undecided on—how are we supposed to fight back? Your city has guards, soldiers, and an uncle who sounds like he could bench-press a camel. What do we have? Sand? Maybe we can throw it in their eyes and hope for the best?"

Darius actually smiled at that, a faint curve of his lips that almost made him look human instead of the overly serious prince he usually was. "We have more than sand," he said.

"Oh yeah? Enlighten me."

He reached into his tunic and pulled out a bracelet. At first glance, it looked ordinary—just a simple band of metal, dull and unassuming. I frowned, not understanding what he was getting at.

"And?" I prompted, raising an eyebrow.

Without a word, Darius slid the bracelet onto his wrist. The moment it clicked into place, something shifted in the air. A faint hum, almost imperceptible, vibrated around us. Then, before I could even ask what was happening, the bracelet began to glow.

"What the—" I started, but the words died in my throat as I watched the transformation unfold.

Armor began to materialize around him, piece by piece, as if summoned from thin air. It wasn't just any armor—it was sleek, intricately designed, and somehow both ancient and futuristic at the same time. Golden accents caught the sunlight, glinting like fire, and the chest plate bore a symbol that looked suspiciously similar to the one on my pendant.

I gawked at him, my mouth hanging open. "Okay... what the actual hell?"

Darius stood there, now fully armored, looking every bit like the kind of prince you'd read about in a fantasy novel. He moved his arms experimentally, testing the flexibility of the armor, and then turned to me with a faint smirk.

"This," he said, gesturing to himself, "is how we fight back."

I blinked, trying to process what I was seeing. "You've been able to do that this whole time, and you're just now showing me? What, were you saving it for dramatic effect?"

"It's not something I can use lightly," he said, his tone turning serious again. "The bracelet draws on energy—my energy. It's powerful, but it comes at a cost. If I overuse it, it could kill me."

"Lovely," I muttered, crossing my arms. "So our grand plan is to rely on something that could literally murder you in the middle of a fight. Solid strategy."

He sighed, the armor fading away as quickly as it had appeared, leaving him in his usual clothes. "It's not perfect," he admitted. "But it's something."

I shook my head, still trying to wrap my mind around everything. "This just keeps getting better and better," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "First the necklace, now magical armor. What's next? A flying carpet? Talking animals? A genie granting us three wishes?"

Darius gave me a small, rueful smile. "If only it were that simple."

I flopped back onto the sand, groaning loudly. "Why me?" I asked the sky. "Why did it have to be me? I'm not a hero, Darius. I don't do hero stuff. I don't even like group projects because they require too much effort."

"You don't have to be a hero," he said quietly. "You just have to be you."

I snorted. "Yeah, because that's been working out so well for me so far."

He didn't respond, but when I glanced over at him, he was watching me with an intensity that made me squirm. There was something in his eyes—something that looked a lot like faith. Like he actually believed I could do this.

And that was almost scarier than the idea of failing.