The battle raged for hours before the sound finally faded. The rebels withdrew, leaving the village smoking and broken. Emily sat beside Nathan’s cot inside the church, her hands still stained with blood. He slept, his breathing even. The bandage on his shoulder was clean, too clean for what she had seen.

Thomas entered quietly. “You did something out there. I saw it.”

She shook her head. “It was adrenaline. Maybe I pressed harder than I thought.”

He frowned. “I’ve seen a hundred wounds like that. He should’ve bled out. But he didn’t. The light from your neck—it wasn’t natural.”

Emily rubbed the brass key under her shirt. “Please, Thomas, don’t say anything.”

He looked torn but finally nodded. “The captain’s alive. That’s all that matters.”

She exhaled in relief. When she looked at Nathan again, she felt both fear and comfort. Saving him meant revealing part of the mystery she didn’t control.

Later, as dawn broke, Nathan woke slowly. “Did we win?” he asked, voice rough.

“For now,” she said, smiling. “You gave everyone quite a scare.”

He studied her face. “You stayed through it all.”

“I wasn’t leaving you.”

Nathan tried to sit up but winced. “You shouldn’t risk yourself like that. You’re not a soldier.”

“I’m not. I’m a survivor.”

He laughed softly, then grew serious. “There’s something about you. When you touched me, I felt… warmth, like a fever leaving my body.”

She froze. “Maybe that’s just what happens when you stop bleeding.”

He didn’t believe her but let it go. “Whatever it was, thank you.”

Outside, the soldiers were rebuilding, and villagers began to emerge from their homes again. Some avoided looking at her, others nodded gratefully. The word witch was no longer whispered—at least not aloud.

Emily stepped outside for air. The sunrise painted the sky gold and red. The brass key shimmered faintly, almost pulsing with life. She held it tight, whispering, “If you can heal people, what else can you do?”

She thought about returning home, but no clue came. Every time she tried to remember how she got here, all she saw was that blinding white light.

Nathan’s voice called from behind her. “Miss Hart.”

She turned. He stood at the door, pale but upright. “You saved me twice now,” he said. “That makes us even.”

“I wasn’t keeping score,” she replied.

He smiled. “Stay close to me. Whatever happens next, I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

Emily nodded, though she wasn’t sure anyone could promise that. The world felt fragile, ready to change again.

That night, when everyone slept, she opened Nathan’s father’s journal. Inside were sketches—of strange machines, circles of light, and what looked like a doorway made of energy. At the bottom of one page was a phrase written in elegant script:
“The healer’s heart opens the gate.”

She touched the words, feeling the page vibrate faintly under her fingers. Maybe this wasn’t just coincidence. Maybe Nathan’s family and the key were linked, and she was now part of their story.

For the first time, Emily didn’t feel like an outsider lost in time. She felt like she was standing at the edge of something bigger than history itself—a secret waiting for her to uncover it.