"Maya… we have been waiting."
The voice rolled through the darkness like a wave — deep, ancient, and feminine.
Not one voice.
Many.
Layered, echoing, vibrating through my bones.
My breath hitched as I turned in place, searching for light, for movement, for anything.
There was nothing.
Just endless blackness.
"Who… who's there?" I whispered.
The voices answered in perfect unity:
"We are the ones who choose the heirs."
My heart pounded so hard it felt like it shook the air around me.
"The… the ancestors?" I whispered.
A gentle hum rippled through the room, almost like amusement.
"We are older than ancestors.
Older than memory.
We are the pulse beneath the crown."
Light flickered above me.
Not warm light… cold light.
White.
Sharp.
It spiraled downward, forming a glowing circle around my feet.
I sucked in a breath.
The air grew heavy, like something unseen was studying me.
"Why am I here?" My voice trembled.
The answer came like wind through stone:
"Because the throne recognizes what the Queen Mother denies."
A chill ran down my spine.
"What does she deny?" I whispered.
Silence.
Then:
"Your blood."
My heartbeat stumbled.
"My… what?"
The light around me flared brighter, rising like thin flames.
Shapes appeared — shifting pale silhouettes of kings and queens long gone.
But when one of them stepped forward, the air cracked.
A woman's outline.
Tall. Regal.
Wearing a crown I'd only ever seen carved into palace walls.
She raised her hand toward me, and a soft blue glow gathered in her palm.
"Child of the hidden line," she whispered.
"You stand where only true heirs stand."
I stumbled backward.
"True heir? No. No, I'm not— I'm not even from here—"
The light flickered violently, silencing me.
Another voice followed — calmer, older:
"Your birth was concealed.
Your name was changed.
Your destiny was stolen."
My breath froze.
"That's not true," I whispered, shaking my head. "My parents—"
"Were not your first family."
The room spun.
My throat tightened.
I could barely breathe.
"No… no, that can't be—"
The woman's silhouette stepped even closer.
Her presence wrapped around me like cold smoke.
"We sensed you the moment you entered the palace.
Your blood called to us.
The bells confirmed it."
Tears pricked my eyes.
"Azael said the bell shouldn't have chosen me."
"And yet it did."
The light dimmed, then concentrated into one sharp point — aimed directly at my chest.
I pressed a hand to my heart instinctively.
It was racing so violently it almost hurt.
"What… what do you want from me?" I whispered.
The woman lifted her hand higher.
The blue light surged.
"We want you to remember."
"Remember what?!"
"Who you were, Maya Montclair."
A crack of light exploded outward — bright, blinding, electric.
I gasped and stumbled to my knees as a strange pressure filled my head.
Images flashed — too fast, too bright:
A cradle of royal silk.
A crown placed beside a newborn girl.
A woman screaming, "Protect her!"
Guards rushing into darkness.
An infant wrapped in red cloth—
Then carried away into the night.
My stomach churned.
My fingers dug into the marble floor.
"No— please— stop—"
The voices grew louder, pressing around me like a storm.
"You were never meant to be hidden.
You were meant to rule."
My mind felt like it was splitting.
Then—
Just as suddenly as it started…
Everything went silent.
The blue light dimmed.
The silhouettes faded.
The circle under my feet disappeared.
And in the deepest stillness, a final whispered sentence reached me:
"Rise, Maya… daughter of a forgotten queen."
My heart dropped.
A forgotten queen?
The doors behind me blasted open.
Azael's voice thundered:
"MAYA!"
I gasped, turning toward him—
But the moment he saw my face, his stopped mid-step, eyes widening in raw shock.
His voice broke.
"Maya… what happened to your eyes?"
---