The stars blinked gently above, and the night wind kissed Aria's cheeks as she leaned on the windowsill. Her hands were still rough from chores, and her dress smelled faintly of ash—but none of it mattered in this quiet moment.
The world felt still.
She closed her eyes and whispered, not expecting an answer,
"Will I always live this life? Forgotten... unseen?"
As if stirred by her question, the wind shifted. A faint rustle swept through the trees outside. Then, in the silence of the night, a single rose petal floated in through the open window and landed softly in her hand.
Aria blinked, startled.
She looked down at the delicate red petal. It hadn't come from anywhere nearby—no roses grew in their small, weed-choked garden.
A warm shiver crawled up her spine.
Then—she heard it. A voice. Gentle, musical, and barely louder than a breeze.
"Soon, child... everything will change."
Aria stood up, glancing around the room. "Hello?" she whispered, suddenly unsure whether she had truly heard anything at all.
But the room remained still. Mira snored softly from the other bed, oblivious. The fire crackled low. And the rose petal lay unmoving in Aria's hand.
She pressed it close to her chest and returned to bed, heart fluttering. Sleep didn't come easily. Her dreams were filled with dancing lights, strange laughter, and a silver crown gleaming in the dark.
---
Morning came with chaos.
Lysa and Mira had been up since dawn, buzzing with excitement. A royal messenger had returned with an invitation—Mira was formally invited to the grand ball.
"Oh, I knew they'd recognize my beauty!" Mira cried, spinning in front of a cracked mirror. "This is my destiny!"
Lysa clapped her hands with pride. "You'll make the perfect princess, darling. Imagine—Prince Damon at your side."
Aria stayed silent, folding linens in the corner. She felt invisible, as always.
But something was different now.
The rose petal was still tucked in her apron pocket, and it warmed against her skin like a tiny ember. Her fingers would brush it without thinking, each time reminding her of the strange voice... and the promise it carried.
That night, while Mira chattered about dresses and dances, Aria crept outside, barefoot on the dewy grass. She walked to the willow tree at the edge of their field—her secret place, where she often went to cry or dream.
"Who are you?" she whispered into the night. "Why did you speak to me?"
The wind stirred again—but this time, it came with a flicker of silver light.
And then... she appeared.
Floating just inches above the ground, wrapped in a cloak of stars, stood a woman unlike any Aria had seen. Her hair shimmered like moonlight, and her eyes glowed with kindness and power.
"Aria," the woman said softly. "The time has come to remember who you truly are."