Morning came slowly, like a shy apology from the heavens. The sun dared not shine too brightly on the ruins of my past. I woke beneath the tangled vines of the old garden, every breath tasting of earth and grief.
The spirits were still there, hovering just beyond sight, their voices soft and patient, as though afraid to startle me.
"Elara," one whispered again, her voice fragile like wind through glass. "You have returned."
I pushed myself up, my hands trembling. "Returned," I repeated. "To what?"
To emptiness, it seemed. The garden was once my sanctuary. My mother used to walk here, her laughter mixing with the rustle of petals. Now the roses had turned pale and brittle, their beauty drained, just like me.
The air shimmered faintly and the shape of a woman began to appear — not solid, but clear enough to see her sorrow. She was dressed in ancient armor, her face soft but heavy with memory.
"I am Seris," she said, her voice echoing slightly. "Queen before you. Betrayed as you were. We have been waiting."
My chest tightened. "Waiting for what?"
"For the crown to choose again."
The words made the ground hum beneath me. I looked down and saw faint golden symbols glowing under the moss. The same ones that marked the broken crown I had held the night before.
I picked up the crown from where it had fallen beside me. It pulsed weakly, like a dying heart.
"I am not fit for this," I whispered.
"None of us were," Seris replied. "But the throne remembers pain more than power. And it has chosen you."
Something in me cracked open — fear, defiance, longing, all twisting together. I thought of my brother's face when he struck me down. I thought of his calm eyes, his steady hand, and how easily he had taken everything.
"I want justice," I said quietly.
Seris looked at me with something close to pity. "Then you must first understand vengeance. It always asks for more than you expect."
The wind picked up, carrying whispers from the unseen — a thousand voices of those who came before me. Some pleaded, some warned, and some sang softly of blood and mercy.
I held the crown close to my chest and felt the spirits circle tighter, their energy seeping into my veins.
In that moment, I understood what rebirth truly meant.
It wasn't just returning to life. It was returning with purpose.
The garden around me began to shift, color blooming where death had ruled. Flowers trembled as if waking from a long sleep. The air glowed with soft light.
Seris smiled faintly. "The crown lives again. And so does its will."
I looked at her and spoke the words that rose unbidden from somewhere deep within me.
"Then let it begin."
And just like that, the whispers grew louder — no longer mourning, but calling for a reckoning.