The world was quiet when Elara Vion died.
The rain tapped gently against the window, soft and unfeeling, washing away the faint scent of medicine that lingered in the air. The candle beside her bed flickered, struggling to survive — just like her.
She had stopped counting the days. The illness had long devoured her strength, leaving behind only a frail body and an empty heart. Her parents hadn't visited in weeks. Her fiancé, Lord Kael, had stopped sending letters. Her siblings, too busy with their own lives, had forgotten she even existed.
In the end, she died quietly.
No tears. No hands to hold. Only the ticking of the clock kept her company.
"If I could be born again…" she whispered weakly, eyes fluttering shut. "…I'd want to live for myself this time."
And then — silence.
But death didn't feel like she expected. There was no darkness. No peace. Only warmth.
"Elara Vion," a soft, echoing voice called. "Your time ended before your heart could find love. Do you wish to try again?"
She couldn't see the speaker, but the voice was gentle, like sunlight touching snow.
"Try again?" she murmured, confused.
"Yes. You were loved more deeply than you ever knew — they simply never had the courage to show it. If you could see their hearts, would you forgive them?"
Tears rolled down her cheeks. Loved me?
It had to be a lie.
Still… some part of her yearned to believe it.
"Yes," she whispered. "If I could return… I'd like to understand."
The voice hummed softly, as though smiling.
"Then wake up, child. And live again."
A blinding light filled her vision. Elara gasped, her chest heaving as air rushed back into her lungs.
She sat up, trembling.
Sunlight streamed through the curtains — warm, golden, alive. Her body didn't ache. Her breathing was steady. She blinked in disbelief, staring at her hands — no shaking, no bluish veins.
On the bedside table, the calendar read: Year 782, Spring Month 3rd.
Three years before her death.
Her heart pounded.
"What… is this?" she whispered.
The door burst open before she could think further.
"Elara!"
Her mother — Lady Vion — ran to her side, tears glistening in her eyes. The woman who had once looked at her with distant politeness now held her as if she might vanish.
"My darling, are you all right? You've been unconscious for two days!"
Elara froze.
This couldn't be real. Her mother had never hugged her. Never wept for her.
"I… I'm fine," she stammered, stiff in the woman's embrace.
But her mother only cried harder, brushing Elara's hair back from her face. "Thank the stars… thank the heavens…"
When Elara finally managed to speak, her voice shook. "Mother, why… why are you crying?"
Lady Vion stopped, her expression breaking into something fragile — regret, pain, love. "Because I almost lost you again."
Again.
That word echoed through Elara's mind, leaving her dizzy.
Her mother kissed her forehead like she used to when Elara was a child — a gesture long forgotten.
Elara wanted to ask what she meant, but her throat closed up. For the first time in years, someone's warmth reached her heart.
As the sun rose higher, filling the room with gold, Elara whispered to herself — a trembling prayer, half in disbelief and half in hope.
"Maybe this time… I can live."