The first thing she felt was the cold.
Not the sharp bite of winter, nor the still hush of a dead wind — but a strange kind of cold, soft and sweet, like dew clinging to her skin. A chill that didn't come from outside, but from within. From somewhere… deeper. Older.
She lay still for a long time, half-conscious, not even sure she was alive.
When she finally opened her eyes, the sky above her was awash in violet and silver, as though dusk had been caught mid-breath and refused to move forward. Pale clouds drifted lazily overhead, glowing with a faint inner light. The scent of flowers filled the air — delicate, heavy, and unfamiliar.
She was lying in the center of a circular field, overgrown with wild blooms the color of moonlight. Their petals shifted like silk with every breeze, brushing against her arms, her legs, her neck. White-gold strands of hair spread across the grass like rays of light.
She blinked slowly.
"Where… Am I?"
She tried to sit up. Her limbs felt distant, sluggish — as if her bones weren't her own. Her fingers trembled when they pressed into the earth. It was warm, pulsing faintly beneath her palms.
Her voice cracked, rough with disuse.
"…Hello? Anyone there?" she called out. There was no one to answer. Only the breeze and the rustling of leaves.
Somewhere distant, a crow cried from the trees. The sound startled her more than it should have. She turned her head, scanning the forest at the edge of the field. No path. No people. Nothing.
Just a sea of flowers and silence thick enough to drown in.
She stood — slowly, shakily — and held her arms close. The fabric she wore was thin and soft, like ceremonial silk. She didn't remember dressing. She didn't remember falling asleep. She didn't remember… anything.
Then—
"You're finally awake."
The voice slipped into her thoughts like warm breath against her ear.
She froze.
"Don't be afraid. I mean you no harm."
She spun around. "Who's there?" Her voice came out thin and shaking, tinged with fear.
There was no one around her.
"I've been waiting all this time. Waiting for you. I was sent to accompany you, to protect you, and to guide you until you're ready."
"And also to bring you back... the way you were before," the voice murmured so faintly that she didn't hear it.
She stepped backward, eyes wide. "Why would you even do that?"
Silence.
Then the voice again — calm, feminine, gentle as falling snow:
"You don't need to know the reason for now, just know that I will not hurt you."
Her heartbeat pounded in her chest. She looked around, searching the flowers, the sky, the trees. Searching for the source of the voice.
Nothing.
"Where are you?" she asked.
"You won't be able to see me yet, but just know that I will always be by your side," the voice replied.
"I—I don't understand… Who are you?" she asked, gripping her arms.
"You may call me Noxy."
"Noxy...?" A name she had never heard before. And yet… it felt strangely familiar.
"It's not my true name. But it's the one you always used to call me."
A pause.
"You know me?"
"Of course I do. Even more than you know yourself."
"You don't remember anything right now, do you?"
Her throat tightened. "No… nothing. Not even… who I am."
"That's alright. The memories are still within you. Sleeping, waiting for you to uncover."
Tears stung her eyes before she realized it. She blinked them away, frustrated.
"But why? Why don't I know anything? Why am I here?"
"Because you chose to walk this path."
That silenced her.
She stared blankly at the horizon, her chest hollow.
"I… chose to?"
"Yes."
Another pause. The voice softened further, like someone remembering something that hurt.
"To protect something precious, you gave everything away — including yourself."
She shook her head. "That doesn't make any sense. I don't understand. Why would I do that?"
"You will understand. When the time comes."
"Then… what can I know?" she whispered. "Can you at least tell me who I am?"
The voice didn't answer immediately. The wind rustled the flowers like breath on water. For a moment, she thought the voice had left — or worse, that it had never been there at all.
Then, at last, it returned.
"Your name is Lyra."
The word landed softly in her chest.
Lyra.
It didn't feel entirely right. But it didn't feel wrong either. It felt… strange. Like a name worn once before.
"…Is that really my name?" she asked.
"For now," Noxy said. "It's enough."
Lyra lowered herself slowly into the flowers, curling her knees to her chest. Her fingers dug into the soil without thinking, grounding herself in the warmth. Her breath shook.
She didn't know where she was. She didn't know what had happened to her. She didn't know if this voice — this Noxy — was real, or just something her mind had invented to cope with the terror of being alone.
And yet… the voice didn't frighten her.
It felt like something she'd known for a long, long time.
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Far away—yet not bound by distance—in a chamber untouched by time, a solitary figure sat amidst a swirl of starlight and silence.
She watched the scene unfold within a scrying veil: a girl waking in a flowerbed, unaware of who she was or what had been lost.
The figure placed a hand over her heart.
"You've finally awakened," she murmured.
Her voice, quiet as memory, trembled with restrained emotion.
"Even if I cannot be by your side—not yet—my other self will walk with you. She will guide you until you remember who you truly are."
She gazed at the image, her eyes full of sorrow and something deeper.
"My dearest sister… I will not lose you again."
She closed her eyes, the glow of fate curling around her like a vow.
"I will wait. However long it takes… I will wait."
And beneath her breath, she whispered the words that had once echoed between stars:
"May the thread never break… even when she forgets how to hold it."