Shared lives E-Book

Judith Flemming

• Herausgeber: novum publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 493

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

High school students Juna, Liana and Connor don't have it easy in life. Juna has to take care of her little sisters for her single mother. Her friend Liana is unintentionally pregnant and struggling with her emotional chaos. Connor suffers from the mood swings of his alcoholic and therefore violent father. To take their minds off things, they attend a party where the unimaginable happens: they inadvertently stumble through a portal into another dimension. In this world, two kingdoms are fighting bitterly against each other. The teenagers get caught between the fronts. Events unfold rapidly. Will they ever return to their world or are they stranded in this dimension forever?

Leseprobe

Any inconsistencies in the text are due to the fact that it was translated using computer-aided technology for a company-wide study.

© 2025 novum publishing gmbh

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Chapter 1

Connor

Convulsively, he tried to protect his head with his arms. He lay on the floor of the dusty garage with his legs bent and pressed both elbows close to his ears.On the night before tomorrow's crappy math test, of all nights, the old man has to turn off again..., he thought, trying to keep both his pain and his anger under control as the punches and kicks rained down relentlessly on his back and ribs.

"I've told you a hundred times that I want my peace and quiet at night," his father yelled above him, "one day I'll throw your damn guitar in the bin!" Connor knew he didn't mean it. He never did. In an hour, he'd be slumped on the living room couch, either crying snot and water or staring absently at holes in the air after trying to apologize to him.

Connor was tired of it - the repetitive routine he'd had to endure at least once a week since his mother had died two years ago. He missed her too. But while his father drowned his emotions in alcohol, which made him either lethargic or violent, Connor was left with music. His guitar was his everything. Even though he knew he was driving his father crazy with his music, he couldn't stop. His mother had been so proud of him and had pushed him relentlessly to do something with his talent. His father also recognized Connor's gift in the furthest corners of his foggy brain. That was probably what upset him so much every time he heard him play. The memories of the time when they had been a family. When they had accompanied Connorto gigs and his mother had jumped up and down with pride, with the biggest grin on her lips and a sparkle in her brown eyes.

He had her eyes - the same light brown, almost with an amber tinge. That, too, certainly reminded his father of her when he looked at his son. He also had brown eyes. His, however, were dark brown. Connor remembered the days of his childhood when he had always seen a mischievous twinkle in his father's dark eyes. He had called them teddy bear eyes, because they had either radiated absolute warmth and security or glowed with silliness. It was as if this side of his father had died along with his mother.

Of course, even before her death, he had often been emotionally overwhelmed and sometimes downright choleric, but she had always known how to deal with him. She had always brought out the good in him and eased any difficult situation between them with humor. It used to make Connor cringe when his parents giggled like children and cracked jokes at each other or sat on the sofa snogging forever. Today he missed even that. He knew they had loved each other, that had given him security. Now the glue that had held his family together was missing.

Caught up in his thoughts, he hadn't even noticed at first that the beating had stopped. He carefully lowered his arms and heard muffled sobs coming from a corner of the garage.Great, he didn't even make it to the living room this time..., Connor thought. He loathed this part of the weekly routine even more than the beatings he stoically endured each time. Slowly, he tried to scramble to his knees to stand up. As he did so, a sharp pain shot through his side.Shit, he thought,tomorrow is sports too. This is going to be fun!Out of the corner of his eye, he also saw that his arm had taken a beating. So he would have to wear a sweater to PE again, sweating himselfto death and enduring the uncomprehending looks of his classmates.

Sighing, he finally struggled to stand and walked on shaky legs over to the slumped figure in the corner that had once been his dad. Connor wasn't sure what he represented to him today. He knew, however, that he couldn't leave him to his own devices.

As he walked past, his gaze fell on the guitar that had been carelessly thrown on the floor, which his father had snatched from him when he had stormed into the garage in a rage. By force of will, he swallowed the anger that boiled up inside him at the sight. He would tune it afterwards and tighten the strings.

"My God, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," his father mumbled indistinctly in front of him. "Are you all right, yeah? Tell me everything's okay." Connor awkwardly squatted down in front of him to help him up. When his alcohol fumes hit him, he had to involuntarily turn his face to the side. His father tried to pull him in for a hug. That was the last thing Connor wanted right now. He clenched his teeth until his jaw muscles protruded and forced himself to answer him: "It's all right. I'm fine. Can you get up? Let's go to the apartment. I'll make you something to eat."

His father nodded, looking like a heap of misery. His face was red. Connor couldn't tell which was deeper - the circles under his eyes or the wrinkles beside them. His black and gray semi-long hair, which he normally wore tied back at the back of his head, was sticking out in all directions and, together with his unkempt beard, gave him the appearance of a homeless man who had spent nights outdoors. Connor swallowed his disgust and helped his father out of the garage and into the first floor apartment next door. He set his father down on the living room couch and then went into the kitchen to turn on the kettle. He grabbed a packet of chicken noodle soup from the cupboard above. He had lost his appetite, but heknew that his father should eat something to help him digest the alcohol.

As the water gradually warmed up, Connor pulled his cell phone out of his jeans pocket. He saw several notifications from Chris on the display. Chris was his only real friend at grammar school. He had been the only one who hadn't been put off when Connor had become more quiet and apathetic two years ago. Apparently he wasn't just a brainiac - he'd skipped a year in the lower school, so at 16 he was now in Year 11, just like Connor at 17 - but also an expert on an emotional level. In the first message Connor opened, he asked him if he wanted to come to his cousin Liana's party at the weekend. He didn't even need to read the other messages to know that they would all be about this party. Chris knew very well that this wasn't his thing: meeting people and getting drunk . He had far enough of that at home already. Besides, Chris's cousin was absolutely crazy. She had brightly colored hair and painted her eyes so thickly with kohl that she could actually be mistaken for Korean, like the K-pop music groups she was crazy about. And that was the next problem. Connor could never stand a whole evening of that junk music. He was about to type a rejection when he heard loud snoring from the living room. He put his cell phone away and looked into the living room opposite. His father was sprawled out on the sofa, which took up most of the room, with his mouth hanging open, snoring away. Connor shook his head, turned the kettle off again and changed his mind on impulse. "Okay, I'll come with you. When do we leave?" he typed into the chat with Chris, which was still open.

Chapter 2

Juna

"I have to leave right now. I don't know when I'll be back tonight. I have to close up the store and do the accounts. It could be late. You have to put Lea to bed and pick Luisa up from after-school care, okay?" her mother instructed her. As always, she had tied her dark blonde hair with the clearly protruding gray strands into a tight bun for work. She stood impatiently in the doorway to Juna's room and furrowed her brow in anticipation of an answer.

Juna was just about to finish her homework. Once again, she wouldn't be able to finish it as she had to look after her younger sisters instead, while their mother took on another 10-hour shift at her underpaid job as a sales clerk. At 17, Juna had become a surrogate mother to her 9- and 5-year-old sisters. She had given up moping about it and comparing her everyday life with that of her classmates. For once, they had to make the best of the situation since their father had left his family two years ago.

"I'm fine, mom," she replied without looking up. However, she could feel her mother's gaze literally burning holes in the back of her head. So she finally turned to her and forced a reassuring smile onto her lips as she said, "Really, Mom, I've got it all under control. Don't worry about it! I can write to you later when Lea's in bed." She seemed to be satisfied with that, because she said goodbye with a quick hug and left Juna to her math books again.

She let out a sigh, closed the books and her folder noisily and ran both hands through her long, dark blonde hair. It was no use, she had neither the time nor the brain power to finish the tasks. In an hour, she had to pick Luisa up from after-school care and at the same time motivate Lea to come with her, as she couldn't leave a 5-year-old at home alone.

No, she wouldn't waste the remaining hour on geometry, but would rather continue reading the book she had started yesterday. It was a fantasy story set in a world where only women had magical abilities and had to defend themselves against a threat from soulless beings. Juna loved this kind of book - as far removed from reality as possible, from her reality, which was dominated by duties and responsibilities.

Just as she was about to open the book, her cell phone, which was lying on the windowsill next to her desk, rang. She feared it was her sister's school trying to tell her that Luisa had to be picked up early. All the more relieved, Juna exhaled the air she had been holding involuntarily when she saw that it was her friend Liana.

Before Juna could answer, Liana was already chattering away: "Please tell me your mom is off on Friday! You have to come to my party. Luca has agreed to come. I can't do it alone. I really need emotional support, otherwise I'll make a complete fool of myself." Juna had to grin at her friend's torrent of words. She knew that Liana had long had her eye on Luca, who was already a senior at her high school and didn't usually hang out with younger girls.

"Take it easy for now. If you have a heart attack, you won't get anything out of the fact that he said yes," Juna laughed into the phone, "I think I'll be able to drop by. But you know I can't stay long. I have to deliver my advertising flyers on Saturday morning." Another one of her many commitments, she thought, capitulating.

"Yes, yes, I realize that," Liana replied. Her friend was well aware of Juna's situation and showed consideration for her wherever she could. She was very grateful for this, as most of her other friends had turned their backs on Juna because she kept having to turn them down and hardly had any time.

Suddenly there was a knock on Juna's bedroom door. A light blonde curly-haired man appeared in the doorway and big brown eyes stared at her. "I feel sick, Juna. I think I need to spit," said her little sister Lea in a trembling voice as she held her favorite teddy bear in her arms. She was very pale and looked as if she was going to start retching at any moment.

"I have to go," Juna spoke quickly into her cell phone and hung up without waiting for a reaction from Liana. Her friend would understand. She was used to it.

Juna had the presence of mind to reach for her wastepaper basket, which was under the desk, and held it under Lea's chin. Just in time, she thought with relief, while her sister vomited.

Resignedly, she expelled the air. "I guess that's it for reading," she muttered.

Chapter 3

Connor

What was he actually doing here? What was he thinking? Connor stood in front of Liana's front door in his Metallica shirt, ripped black jeans and heavy boots. It had taken him about ten minutes to even walk up the stairs to her door. Before that, he had stood at the side of the road and watched as countless other young people - some in groups, some alone - had rung the doorbell and been invited into the house by their hostess after an exuberant hug.

And what a house it was! It must have had at least 15 rooms spread over three floors. There was a spacious garden around the house and next to it both a carport and two garages, each twice the size of the one that housed his father's old Ford Mondeo at home.

Connor breathed in and out noisily and finally pressed his index finger on the doorbell next to the red front door decorated with a wreath. He would get through the evening somehow. Chris was waiting for him inside, after all. He had gotten him into this mess, so he should make it bearable for him.

"Who's interrupting?" a cheerful girl's voice suddenly laughed at him from the intercom. Connor rolled his eyes in annoyance. He wasn't in the mood for jokes. But before he could think of a quick-witted reply, the door was ripped open in front of him. Of course, he had already been able to catch a glimpse of Liana beforehand, but now that he was face to face with her, his mouth was still open in speechlessness.

She was wearing an oversized smurf-blue hooded sweater and loose light pink jeans with blood-red hearts on them. Her cotton candy pink hair was twisted into snails at the sides, which reminded him a lot of Lea from Star Wars, although Liana was probably more like an Asian version of that, as she had made up her eyes thick and slanted with eyeliner so that they looked almond-shaped. Her lips, painted bright pink, curled into a smile as she looked him up and down. "Are you sure you came to the right party?" she commented with a laugh before pulling him into a brief hug and continuing: "No, honestly, I'm pleasantly surprised that you came at all. I couldn't believe my favorite cousin when he said you wanted to come by. It's nice that you're taking part in something for once." He knew that he had a reputation as a loner who didn't care much for social events. But only Chris knew the reasons for this - and even he only knew a little. Connor scratched his head uncomfortably, his dark brown, slightly wavy hair falling into his forehead. He desperately needed a haircut again. At least it distracted him from his flushed cheeks as he struggled for a retort.

Liana beat him to it. He knew that, despite her big mouth and extravagant appearance, she had a good heart. She must have noticed that he felt uncomfortable. She pulled him into the house without further ado, babbling on unperturbed: "I'm afraid the music here won't be your thing, but I'll take you to Chris first. At least then he won't be the only one who has to get upset about the lack of guitar sounds ..." Connor gratefully followed her through the spacious entrance area, which was hung with magnificent mirrors and paintings on both sides. If he had already thought the chests of drawers and the wardrobe were exquisite, the sight of the dining room they were now walking through left him speechless. The dining table looked more like a table that could easily seat twelve guests. The white deep-pile carpet in front of it seemed so precious that it was almost a sacrilege to walk on it. There were expensive-looking ornaments on the solid wood furniture. On the walls were framed photos of Liana and her parents, as well as landscapes and portraits of her father, who made a living from them. A crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling completed the overall picture. Connor couldn't believe that Liana's parents had let her have the house for a party. They must really have a good relationship.

"Don't look like that!" Liana snapped him out of his amazement. "The party's in the cellar. Come on." She pulled him through a door that led into another corridor and from there down a flight of stairs. Connor could already hear the painful sounds of a mixture of rap and electronic pop music blaring from the speakers before he even entered the party basement. Liana directed him through the door. Connor was unsurprised to discover that the so-called basement area was more like a house within a house. There were several rooms that merged into one another and even a bar with a tap and a Coca-Cola fridge. "He's back there," said Liana, pointing to his friend, who was sitting next to a girl on the corner bench with an energy drink in his hand. "Thanks," Connor replied. It was the first word he had uttered since he had rung the doorbell. Liana gave him a friendly grin. He made an effort to return her smile. Then she was pulled away by a group of girls dressed in similar colorful clothes. They started giggling loudly and nudged each other.

Connor turned away and made his way towards the corner bench. As he did so, he was repeatedly bumped into by other guests who were already visibly inebriated. He felt deeply out of place.

At least Chris looked up at him and waved as he approached. It was hard to imagine that he and Liana were related. Chris had reddish-blonde hair and freckled, pale skin as well as a lanky build, which didn't exactly make him desirable to the ladies. So Connor was all the more surprised to see his friend sitting next to a girl. Admittedly, she wasn't the prettiest he had seen here, but at least Chris seemed to be taken with her. He suspected that she was the reason why he had wanted to go to this party.

"Hey, this is Jule. She knows Liana from riding. Imagine, she hates that K-pop stuff as much as we do!" Chris introduced his companion to him with shining eyes. Connor nodded to the dark-haired, thin girl and then sat down on the bench next to his friend.

Connor relaxed for a while and found the idea of spending the evening here much better than cleaning up his father's vomit at home or trying to persuade him to take a shower. Chris and he made fun of the music and dance performances of their classmates as they stuffed their bellies with slices of pizza and chips. Jule was nice and unobtrusive. However, after a while Connor realized that Chris probably wanted to get a little closer to her. Eventually, the two of them went to get drinks. Connor couldn't help noticing that they were holding hands. He didn't expect to see them again any time soon. The room seemed to have turned into a lover's paradise. He saw couples snogging everywhere, as the music had also become quieter.

The uneasy feeling in the pit of Connor's stomach returned. He had no interest in the girls here. He didn't want to stick his tongue into anyone's alcohol-soaked mouth, nor did he want to be groped. His ribcage was still tender from his last encounter with his father a few days ago, and there were blue-black bruises all over his torso.

Nevertheless, he didn't want to sit alone in the corner. While he was still wondering whether he should look for Liana to say goodbye, the uneasy feeling in his stomach grew stronger. Perhaps the whole thing had more of a physical cause after all. Perhaps he had simply stuffed himself with too many potato chips or the pizza hadn't been as fresh as it had looked. Without further ado, he got up to find a bathroom. He would either have to throw up or splash water on his face to get fit again.

He had no idea where the hostess was. Could he just wander around the house looking for a bath? He decided to go for it. Surely she'd resent him more if he got on her floor.

He sluggishly made his way through the dancing crowd and past tightly entwined couples. He opened the cellar door and already felt noticeably better. The stale air down there had certainly played a part ...

He walked uncertainly along the corridor through which he had come with Liana. A staircase on the right led to the upper floor. Connor decided to follow her. At the top, he was faced with several doors. Fortunately, he spotted a hand-painted sign on one of them that read "Bathroom". He breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door.

When he entered, he forgot his nausea for a moment. This had absolutely nothing in common with a bathroom as Connor knew it.

There were a total of three washbasins with rose gold fittings and a matching freestanding bathtub. There was another small bathtub with a whirlpool function further back and a walk-in shower with an opaque door. The most bizarre feature, however, was the aquarium, which was about one and a half meters wide and stood against the wall directly opposite the toilet. Who would want to be watched by fish while they attended to their human needs? Connor couldn't finish his train of thought. As soon as he looked into the toilet bowl, the nausea returned with a vengeance. He just managed to kneel down in front of the toilet before the half-digested pizza made its way up.

Out of breath, he pressed the flush button and reached for the toilet roll to wipe his face. He sat dazed on the floor for a moment, trying to regain his strength, when he suddenly heard a soft clearing of the throat from the back of the room. Shit, he thought in a panic. Was he not alone in here? He slowly looked in the direction of the separate shower when the sliding door opened and a head with long dark blonde hair appeared behind it. Fuck! He had just puked his guts out in the presence of a girl ... If he hadn't been so exhausted, he would certainly have turned red in an instant. The girl brushed her hair back. He recognized the face. She didn't go to his class, but he thought he'd definitely seen her in the schoolyard. She probably went to Liana's class. No wonder he had noticed her face. She had ice-blue eyes that were so penetrating that it was hard to escape her gaze. Her hair was so long that he wondered if she had ever had it cut in her life and her perfectly curved lips completed the picture. Connor would have loved to sink into the floor.

"Hi," the girl said shyly and waved her hand, in which she was holding a thick paperback book. What?" Connor thought to himself. Why did she have a book in the bathroom with her? And what was she doing fully dressed in the shower anyway? But before he could say anything, she asked him a question: "Have you had too much to drink?" She gestured towards the toilet bowl with her free hand and Connor instantly became defensive. He detested alcohol.

"I don't drink," he replied, feeling his expression darken involuntarily. "The question is rather what food Liana serves her guests. You'd think she'd have enough money for good food," he added, instantly feeling bad about resenting Liana - after all, she had been so hospitable to him.

The girl in front of him raised her hands defensively and took a step back. "It's okay, I didn't mean to insinuate anything," she said. Her eyes fell on his stomach. As he followed it, Connor realized with horror that his top had slipped and now revealed his bare skin - his dark blue discolored skin. He frantically adjusted his shirt while she cleared her throat uncomfortably. Fortunately, the girl avoided addressing him about it.

He decided that offense was the best defense and turned the focus on her, asking her why she had been sitting in the shower with a book. Connor could now clearly see that she was embarrassed too. Embarrassed, she cleared her throat again before answering: "I don't know, I'm not really the party type. I only came for Liana's sake, but she seems to be doing quite well without me." She paused for a moment and shrugged her shoulders, then continued: "I just like to read. That's why I always have an 'emergency book' with me. And the shower seemed by far the most secluded place for it."

Connor had to smile at her openness. Even though he wasn't much of a reader himself, he liked the girl. He regretted hitting on her like that. "I'm not a big fan of parties either and I'm only here because of a friend," he explained. "I'm Connor, by the way."

"I know. You're friends with Liana's cousin," she said. Connor was more than surprised that she knew who he was. Since when did anyone pay attention to him?

"My name is Juna," the girl distracted him from his thoughts.

He was about to say something back when he suddenly heard a loud thunderclap. Juna and he turned to the window next to the shower at the same time and saw how the dark sky was immediately lit up by bright flashes of lightning. "That was sudden! I don't think a thunderstorm was on the cards for today..." Juna remarked. Connor shrugged his shoulders.

The next moment, the whole bathroom was bathed in bright yellow light and another thunderclap sounded.

Connor's attention was drawn to the aquarium. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed small flashes of light forming in the water. He had never seen anything like it before. The small neon fish suddenly stopped moving, while the larger fish swam around all the more frantically and their color changed to a fluorescent blue. He turned his head to the side and saw Juna staring at the aquarium in the same disbelief. Involuntarily, he reached out and took the lid off the aquarium. The blue light of the fish now shone even brighter. Connor felt magically drawn to their brilliance. Without giving it a second thought, he dipped his hand into the water. As if from far away, he heard the girl next to him call out: "What are you doing? Don't do that!" The last thing he felt was Juna's hand pulling on his other arm. Then he felt a powerful electric shock and everything around him suddenly went black.

Chapter 4

Liana

Liana stood in front of the mirror in the small guest bathroom on the first floor and thought about broccoli. Yes, broccoli certainly had important nutrients that were good for bone growth. Or was it organ development? Either way, she had at least eaten one green vegetable in the last two weeks. She thought about the fact that the little creature in the depths of her womb, which at this point was probably not much more than an accumulation of cells, was now benefiting from this and eagerly forming even more cells. At the same time, she was surprised that this little creature primarily craved donuts, chocolate croissants and doughnuts, even though their nutritional value was probably close to zero. Even more surprising was the fact that, despite the quantities of this stuff she had stuffed down her throat over the last two weeks, she was not gaining weight, but rather getting thinner. Like a parasite, she thought, draining me of all my nutrients. She didn't throw up. At most, she felt a slight travel sickness and leaden tiredness from time to time. The day before yesterday, she almost fell asleep in geography class. "Everything is completely normal," the doctor had said before she had showered her with brochures and leaflets, only one of which had seemed important to Liana - the one with the number of the abortion clinic. Stop, it's called abortion, she improved in her head, just keep everything politically correct. She had booked an appointment on the way home from the doctor. But she needed someone to accompany her. Ideally this should be one of the parents, the father of the cell bundle or preferably both ... Except that the father didn't even know that his genetic material was in the process of multiplying - with or without the help of broccoli.

Suddenly, thick tears ran down Liana's cheeks again and spread her eyeliner across her face. She stifled a loud sob and wiped away the traces of make-up with a washcloth. Without her protective layer of bright colors, an almost childlike face looked back at her in the mirror. Who was she playing at? She wasn't even of age yet, but now she was pregnant, alone and no stupid party could change her situation. Why had she had this crazy idea? As if Luca would be interested in her childish house party? When he obviously had no interest in her. Well, no interest AT ALL. Quite apart from that, it probably wouldn't have been a good idea to talk to him about something like that at a party.

She would love to send everyone home and cry her eyes out for the rest of the evening. But first she would have to leave the toilet and go back to the party room. There was no way around it. She no longer had the energy to play the ever-funny hostess - the bubbly K-pop girl who was nice and sweet to everyone. No one knew what was really going on inside her - not even Juna. She hadn't wanted to burden her friend with her worries when she already had enough burdens of her own. But as Liana looked at her pale, unvarnished face in the mirror, she realized that she could no longer do it alone. She had to reveal herself to at least one other person. Juna was the only person she wanted to face in her current state. So she sniffled one last time into the bits of toilet paper she was holding and left the guest bathroom to go in search of her friend. She's probably holed up somewhere with a book again ..., Liana thought and climbed the stairs to the top floor.

At first she had combed through all the bedrooms and even her father's study, but Juna was nowhere to be found. Surely she couldn't have just left without saying goodbye? That really wasn't like her. Finally, Liana took a look in the large bathroom that she shared with her parents. Of course, this room was also empty. Wait, not quite. There was a thick book in front of her father's aquarium - fantasy, judging by the cover. It clearly had to be Juna's. She would never leave one of her sacred hams carelessly on the floor like that ... Where had she gone in such a hurry?

Then something else caught Liana's attention. A cell phone was lying on the floor of the aquarium, bobbing slightly on the grainy sand. The hairs on the back of Liana's neck stood up and an uneasy feeling spread through the pit of her stomach. Something was very wrong here. Had Juna run away from someone and lost her things in the process? Unsure what she was looking for, Liana let her gaze wander around the bathroom. She couldn't see any signs of a fight or anything else.

She decided to fish the cell phone out of the aquarium to see if it was Juna's at all. There was a hundred percent chance that it would no longer work, but she would recognize it from the stickers with the book quotes that Juna had attached to the back of the protective cover.

Even as she dipped her right hand into the water, Liana felt an unpleasant tingling sensation that steadily worked its way up her arm. Her gaze lingered on one of the fish she had never liked. It had always seemed to her that these huge discus fish were trying to hypnotize her with their beady eyes. This time, however, it wasn't the eyes of this one fish that caught Liana's attention, but rather its color. Had it always been this bright blue? Before she could even think about this question, she felt so dizzy that everything seemed to be spinning around her. The water of the aquarium merged with the bathroom fittings surrounding her before her perception stopped completely for several seconds. She felt as if the floor was being pulled out from under her feet.

Chapter 6

Elandis

Gods, how he hated snow. His toes had turned to icicles in his thin suede boots and his blond curls curled even more in the wet, making him look far younger than his twenty years. Something else they would tease him about again. He could already hear Gelen and the others ahead of him. "Well, Goldilocks, will it be soon or shall we carry you in a palanquin?" Laughter rang out and Elandis forced himself to remain calm. He was almost level with his so-called comrades when he heard Gelen's voice again, addressing his neighbor in a half-hearted whisper: "I bet his whore mother left him because she thought he was a girl who had accidentally grown a tail."

Elandis didn't hesitate for a second. Making fun of him was one thing, but dragging his mother into the mud was something he couldn't bear. Certainly, Gelen was right. She had left him when he had been little more than a toddler. Gelen's speculation about her profession might even be true. After all, he had never seen a father. Nevertheless, he would not allow the woman who had given birth to him to be spoken of like that. With both hands, he grabbed the smaller but much broader man by the collar of his doublet and pulled him towards him, only to ram his knee into the pit of his stomach. Gelen's bearded face showed surprise at first, but then instantly darkened, reflecting his bottomless rage. He didn't seem to feel any pain, I'll give the bastard that. As Elandis had expected, he immediately lashed out with a punch to the chin instead, which he just managed to duck under. The others had already started to shout encouragement, which of course was directed exclusively at Gelen. The heavier man threw himself at him with all his weight and Elandis had no chance. He tried in vain to land a blow, but Gelen was already twisting his hands behind his back. He could feel his joints about to burst. A dark laugh expressed his opponent's certainty of victory. But Elandis would not give up that easily. He was tired of being picked on again and again. He had just as much right to be part of this army as anyone else. The commander didn't care about his lineage. Gelen's body and those of his rich friends would bleed on the battlefield just like his. It was time to make that clear.

With all his strength, he kicked backwards with his right foot and hit Gelen on the shin. Surprised by the unexpected attack, Gelen loosened his grip on Elandis' wrists for a brief moment, which Elandis used to escape Gelen's grasp. With lightning speed, he turned to the side and rammed his elbow into Gelen's kidney area. The sturdy man did not fall to the ground, but he did make the first sound of pain. Encouraged by this, Elandis punched him in the stomach. His opponent's face turned dark red - whether from pain or indignation, Elandis could not tell. Like a wild beast, he suddenly rushed at Elandis and rammed his head head-on into his midsection. The impact swept Elandis off his feet, leaving him lying backwards in the snow. He was already afraid that Gelen - fueled by the cheers of his companions - would now draw his sword and impale him when a shrill whistle cut through the air and everyone fell silent instantly. Gelen paused in mid-motion, giving his doughy face a foolish expression. If he hadn't been writhing in pain himself, Elandis probably would have laughed at the sight. Instead, he struggled to keep a serious expression and tried to sit up as Captain Nekros rode into his field of vision on his black mare.

"What do you think you're doing here?" he thundered. As the commander, he was of course wearing full armor, but he had removed his helmet, which only enhanced his authoritarian appearance in view of his gray, meticulously trimmed beard and ice-cold blue eyes. He pressed his thin lips together in anticipation and let his gaze wander back and forth between him and Gelen.

Naturally, Gelen took the floor first and talked his way out of it in a submissive manner. It was only the bastard's fault that he had attacked him for no reason at all. He, Gelen, had only defended himself, which the captain would surely understand. Damn bootlicker, Elandis thought. He knew it would be pointless to put forward his point of view, as Nekros disliked him as much as Gelen did. The captain came from a long line of nobles. While such a man could tolerate it when people amassed wealth through their economic prowess and thus rose in the social hierarchy, as had been the case with Gelen and his family, he had no sympathy for the presence of men in the royal army who were neither wealthy nor had a clear line of descent, as was the case with Elandis.

Elandis knew that the captain himself had no say in these matters, as it was up to the commander to decide how and which men were recruited. But ultimately, he didn't have to deal with the open-minded commander on a daily basis, but with small-minded people like Gelen and Nekros. So he knew it was better to keep his mouth shut than to start an even bigger argument. So he avoided the captain's questioning gaze and remained silent.

If he was lucky, he would get off with a week's latrine duty. If he was unlucky and Nekros was in the mood to make an example of him, then he would possibly receive ten lashes, half of which would certainly only be carried out half-heartedly. After all, Nekros would not inflict life-threatening injuries on his own soldiers - whether they were of pure descent or not - as the enemy was already outnumbered.

However, Elandis had not expected the answer that the captain gave after some deliberation. "As this is by no means the first incident, Elandis Turgau, it is time to present you to the commander. She will decide what to do with you."

With a self-satisfied half-smile, Nekros initially remained motionless on his black mare before waving his hand impatiently, which Elandis interpreted as an invitation to stand up and follow him.

He followed the instruction and wondered with slight unease whether he should be happy about the outcome of the argument or not.

The commander was generally regarded as fair and progressive; after all, she herself was used to defending her position time and again in a world dominated by men. Of course, it helped that she was the king's niece, but she was still a thorn in the side of some high-ranking officers.

Of course, he had never met the commander face to face, but Elandis knew the rumors well enough. Soldiers were worse than washerwomen on a long march.

Be that as it may, he didn't think she would punish him physically; officers like Nekros were responsible for that sort of thing. But what if she was forced to throw him out of the army? What would he do for a living then?

With an increasingly queasy feeling, he trotted along beside Nekros, who was steering his mare at a gentle walking pace in the direction of the commander's temporary campsite. Again and again he had to clutch his stomach. Gelen had a damn thick skull and Elandis still couldn't breathe evenly.

"Elandis Turgau, come in!" an almost gentle voice called to him a few minutes later. Nekros had initially gone alone into the warlady's spacious tent to announce him and explain the situation to her. When he now walked past him to return to his subordinate soldiers, he did not give him a glance. However, Elandis thought she recognized a gleeful grin on the captain's lips.

Elandis entered the tent uncertainly. He had no idea how to behave, as he had never had any courtly training. Did they bow to her, as she belonged to the royal family, or did they salute her like the other officers, as she held the highest-ranking position in the army? Before he could decide, the commander rose from her stool and approached him with outstretched hands, which she briefly placed on his shoulders before taking another step back to look at him.

Elandis had kept his eyes lowered when he had entered. Now he risked a glance at her face. The commander was an imposing figure - a middle-aged woman whose sinewy, muscular frame reflected her strength and battle-hardened physique, while the silver-grey strands in her long hair, which she had plaited in several braids and tied back, showed her age. Her expression was open and friendly. There was nothing to suggest that she intended to stake him.

She cleared her throat, but this did not rob her voice of its delicacy as she took the floor. "Captain Nekros tells me that you are what he calls a troublemaker who is endangering the unity of our troops." She twisted the corners of her mouth and rolled her eyes slightly before continuing: "For my part, I think Captain Nekros is a curmudgeonly sourpuss who always divides everything into black and white." She shrugged her shoulders briefly, which were bare despite the winter cold and showed her muscles. "Which isn't a bad attitude, of course. It makes life a lot easier. Unfortunately, you'll never fully understand it that way... What I'm trying to say, Elandis Turgau, is that I can well imagine that there's more to these arguments between you and some of your comrades than meets the eye. What you will understand, however, is that it makes no difference what the motives are if the result is that my soldiers are hurting each other." If her expression had been understanding and friendly until now, she now became serious. She fixed her green eyes directly on his brown ones. "I cannot tolerate such a thing. We must not fight among ourselves when we have a common enemy to defeat, and one that is outnumbered." Deliberating, she moved her head from right to left and whispered more to herself than to him: "So what should I do with you?"

Elandis remained silent. He was sure it was a rhetorical question. Surely the commander had already made a decision. Waiting, he looked into her eyes, which carefully scrutinized his own.

A slight nod showed that she had come to a decision. "I like you, Elandis Turgau. You don't whine like so many of your comrades and try to talk your way out of things or flatter me with endless chatter. Maybe you're the right person for a very specific job that would solve both our problems. You would be rid of your hated comrades. I might have the chance to end a long-standing war before it has really begun..." Lost in thought, she tilted her head, while Elandis' eyes grew wide and the thoughts in his head rolled over. How could a single soldier stop the war - and one without any special training at that? At the same time, he was elated by the idea that he could play such an important role . The fact that this role could possibly lead to his death did not deter him. There was no one he would leave behind. No one would mourn him.

"I would be most honored to prove myself useful in this regard, honored commander," Elandis replied, hoping he had chosen the right words. It still intimidated him to face such a high-ranking figure, even if she had never made him feel superior in any way.

"I'm glad to hear that," she replied, immediately confirming his suspicions as to his whereabouts. "However, I hope you realize that such a mission could end tragically for you and that you will be on your own. You are the master of your own destiny." Of course, Elandis realized that these philosophically wrapped words from the commander basically just meant that she was not prepared to send her army to his aid should he get into trouble. "I am aware of that," he replied pragmatically.

She nodded sympathetically and then calmly explained her plan to him.

Elandis stared at her, more than stunned. He struggled not to leave his mouth hanging open like a fool. When he had composed himself, he asked: "But magic has been gone from this world for two decades. Every mage who has been sighted since then has turned out to be a charlatan."

"For 18 years, to be precise. Since the day my sister disappeared. I think you're too young to remember the time of the great magicians, aren't you?" she asked, not expecting an answer, as she continued seamlessly: "It was a great time, but also a very scary one, because let me tell you, Elandis Turgau, not all magicians were as good as my sister Senga. But she was one of the best. She had the gift of opening portals that led to other worlds, other dimensions, other timelines - whatever you want to call it. It was thanks to her that some of her opponents could be banished in this way." This was not the first time Elandis had heard these stories. They were folklore. However, he had always wondered how much of the stories and legends that were now told were just embellishments and what was really true. He had never experienced magic and could only imagine it to a limited extent.

"But the price my sister had to pay for her gift was high. She was lonely. A normal life was not possible for her, no matter how hard she tried. She disappeared without a trace 18 years ago. She never said a word to me or our uncle. We could only conclude that her disappearance heralded the end of the era of magic. No more magic bearers were born and those who were still with us gradually lost their powers. Without magic, the normal competition for resources and worldly power began, which has now brought us to the brink of this war."

Elandis knew all this. What interested him was what had led the commander to believe that her sister had returned. As if she had read his thoughts, she said: "For two years now, there have been repeated reports of time shifts, of people disappearing or simply appearing. At first I thought they were just rumors and old wives' tales, like the ones you hear all the time. But I have reason to believe that at least one of these rumors is true. I want you to make sure of that. If my sister is indeed back, and her gift with her, then that would give us a decisive advantage in this war, and there might not even be any fighting if our opponent's leadership were to disappear, if you know what I mean..."

Elandis understood and agreed. Of course he did. He had the commander explain the details of his mission to him. A mission that would take him deep into enemy territory, where he was to track down Senga, the commander's missing sister, and bring her back to her sister's side if possible.Nothing could be easier than that, he thought cynically, but at the same time he was seized by an excited fluttering in his chest. Here was an opportunity that he would never have had in his normal life. He had the chance to make history. He had the chance to go down in history as a hero.

Full of zest for action, he set off the next morning on a handsome brown gelding in the opposite direction to his comrades. He would take a circuitous route into enemy territory and hire himself out as a mercenary, while in truth he would make inquiries and - gods willing - find Senga. He hoped he would make it in time before the armies clashed. The commander would slow her march, but he still didn't have much time. As he pondered his thoughts, he noticed Gelen cleaning the latrines at the edge of the camp out of the corner of his eye. The muscleman gave him a disapproving look. Elandis couldn't help but smile to himself. It seemed the field mistress had distributed her punishments fairly. He knew which punishment he preferred, especially since his didn't feel like one at all. When he was already far away, he heard Gelen calling after him: "You'll pay for this! You and I aren't done with each other yet!" Elandis just laughed and spurred his gelding into a gallop.

Chapter 7

Juna

Juna's head felt as if it would burst at any moment. She carefully opened one eye at a time. She had really expected to see the aquarium in Liana's bathroom in front of her again. Instead, she was still looking up at a snow-covered sky, half of which was obscured by dense treetops. Her teeth chattered at the cold creeping into her body. She could feel snow underneath her and was grateful that she had decided to wear tights under her white knitted dress before going to Liana's party. Her jacket, however, was hanging on her friend's coat rack along with her cell phone. Before Juna could fully panic at the fact that she was now out of reach of her mother and sisters, a movement a little further to her right distracted her. "Where the hell are we?" she heard Connor, her bathroom acquaintance, ask from beside her. He too was holding his head and blinking repeatedly. He had to be even colder than she was in his T-shirt and torn jeans. At least he's wearing thick boots and not thin boots from the discount store like me, Juna thought. "I have no idea," she replied. "I don't remember there being this much snow when I left for Liana's party." Sure, snow in February wasn't unusual. After all, there had been that storm while they had been talking. The memories came back more clearly now of the fish in the aquarium that had changed color and the way Connor's skin had glowed when she'd grabbed him by the arm. That was the last clear image she had before her.

"This doesn't look like Liana's street to me. There's no forest path near her house, is there?" Connor snapped her out of her thoughts. "No," she confirmed, although she was sure that the boy had come to the same conclusion as she had. Either this was an extremely real dream and they were lying unconscious in Liana's bathroom - struck by lightning - or ... She didn't even want to think about the 'or', because panic instantly welled up inside her again. Her mother, her sisters, her cell phone ... "Connor, do you have your cell phone with you?" she asked abruptly. He shook his head. "I was sure I had it in my pocket, but it's empty now."

He shook his head again before realizing, "It's light. How long do you think we were unconscious?"

Juna replied, "I'm not at all sure we're not still the same." He returned her gaze with raised eyebrows and remarked, "Then isn't it unusual that we're both having the same 'dream'? Not to mention, I FEEL awake. Don't you?" She had to admit to herself that she did. Surely you wouldn't feel pain in such a real way if you were unconscious?

She dropped the subject and asked instead, "What should we do now?" Connor scratched his head. "I don't know. See if there's any life around here? We should waste no time and get moving. My lips are probably turning blue already." He must have been joking, but Juna was well aware of the danger that they could both catch their deaths (if they hadn't already) if they remained motionless on the ground.

They decided to follow the path, which was barely visible under the blanket of snow, but definitely led out of the forest. Juna had expected to see a road or houses at some point. But there was absolutely no sign of civilization here. In other circumstances, she would have described the scenery that presented itself to them as beautiful: snow-covered fields, some of which were lined with groups of trees, and above them a Him mel that was gradually broken by rays of sunlight that made the snow glisten. She kept crossing her arms under her chest or rubbing her hands together to keep warm, but it hardly helped.

"Are those horses?" Connor asked suddenly, pointing to a few brown-black outlines in the distance. It was hard to tell, but it seemed possible to her. Perhaps they were approaching a farm. The closer they got, the more life they could make out. In addition to the horses, Juna could now clearly make out tents, although she wondered how anyone could have a tent camp at this time of year. What was this? A riding camp for the hardened?

Suddenly, Connor stopped in front of her. She almost ran into him. He raised an arm in warning. "Do you see those people further back? I can't make it out clearly, but it looks to me like they have guns. Look to the far right. That looks like a sword, doesn't it?"

The panic returned. It choked Juna's throat with full force. She had to force herself to keep breathing. As if from far away, she heard Connor speculate: "Is this some kind of medieval festival or something? There are those role-playing games where people dress up completely and re-enact battles." Juna could tell from Connor's voice that he was just trying to encourage himself. Surely no one would organize something like that in the dead of winter. She was about to say something back when she felt someone grab her around the waist from behind and put a large hand over her mouth. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Connor also being attacked from behind and sinking to his knees.

Chapter 8

Connor

A blow out of nowhere hit him on the side of his ribs, which were still bruised from the last altercation with his father. He immediately lost his breath and dropped to his knees. He grabbed his aching side with one hand and felt a blunt object right next to the spot. He tilted his head and saw a tall man in leather armor clutching Juna, whose eyes were about to fall out of their sockets, they were so wide with terror. Connor dared to look slowly over his shoulder. He spied the sharply cut face of his attacker, also wearing leather armor, and the sword he had pressed hilt-first into Connor's side. Even if he had been able to form coherent words, he would not have known how to address the man. The man now grabbed him by the hair with his other hand and hissed in his ear: "Who are you? Who sent you?" He would have liked to ask his counterpart the same question. At the same time, he realized from the pressure of the sword at his side that he'd better give this guy some kind of answer quickly. He decided to stick as close to the truth as possible and replied: "My name is Connor, this is Juna. No one sent us. We got..." he faltered, unsure of how to phrase it, "...lost our way," he finally ended weakly.

Fortunately, the second man had loosened his grip on Juna in the meantime. She sucked in the air like a drowning woman. Both men looked her up and down with half amused, half suspicious glances. "That's a strange outfit. Did you have a rendezvous in the snow? Where are your things? Travelers without luggage? Without horses?" Neither nor Juna said anything back. His brain was struggling to make sense of the men's attire - leather armor, swords, horses... He was still aware of the threat they posed, even if they were joking now. Their eyes wandered over to him and lingered on his T-shirt. The man who had grabbed Juna was moving his lips, obviously trying to decipher the band name on the shirt. Suddenly he had a flash of inspiration - a stupid one possibly, but it was all he had to offer, so he said, "Metallica. That's us. We are musicians. That's the name of our band." Once he started speaking, the words came more easily from his lips and he continued, "We move from place to place. But we were ambushed on our way, lost our equipment and are now obviously lost." He vaguely noticed how Juna's eyes widened again and stared at him in disbelief. However, she did not contradict him. The two men looked at each other uncertainly. It was clear that they didn't quite buy his story, but his attacker said: "Whatever. Let's get them to the camp. Kantor can decide what to do with them." Connor had no objections. Where else would they have gone? Besides, they really needed warmer clothes and food at some point. It didn't look like they were going to find a supermarket here any time soon.