Hearing the voice in her head, her knees buckled, but she didn't fall. Instead, something inside her pushed back.
Not a defense, it was more like a presence, something she could not quite put her finger on.
It rose from her spine to the back of her skull and whispered:
"Awakened not by light, but fracture, yet still considered a mistake—how fragile."
Her prosthetic flared at the words, blue runes raced up her leg and over her body in sharp, jagged patterns. Her skin shimmered briefly, then split open just above her wrist, not blood, but ash curling out like breath in winter.
She cried out as the pain ran through her veins, but the pain was brief; in its place, she felt relief coursing through her, followed by strength she did not have before.
It felt unsteady, new and terrifying all at once; at the same time, the sword stopped trembling.
And then, before her, in a shimmer of broken light, a figure appeared. It was shrouded, wearing a dark hood, a figure not of flesh alone but smoke and ash as well, something so unreal, yet it was standing before her as though it was just a normal day, while she did not know whether to run and scream or pretend to be dead.
Its voice was like steel dragging through embers:
"You are not the one they summoned. But you are the one we may be able to remember."
Rinley took a shaky breath; she had a feeling running was not an option at the time. Her fingers curled into fists as she looked up at the figure with her eyes narrowed.
"Who are you?" she asked.
The figure stepped forward, hovering inches above the ground. Its face was all shadow, or so it made it seem.
"We are the ones left behind. Bound to the ancient debt. You bear the mark, you wear the ash of death, and you seem to have either been through it or faced it before. You are the fracture… and the flame."
Before she could speak again, the lights vanished.
The courtyard snapped back to silence.
The sword was still and the platform was quiet.
Her arm still tingled from the encounter, while her leg dimmed to its regular glow.
But the echo remained in her mind, like a dream that refused to fade.
She stood alone in the night air, her chest rising and falling. She could sense it, even if she had no magical abilities or anything of the sort, nor did she quite understand what was happening as yet, but she knew deep down something had changed.
And now… someone else knew of her here, someone who seemed to know more than she did, which could either go in her favor or against her.
Rinley took a deep breath and returned to her chamber, since she knew the king and queen would send for her soon enough to decide her future and she was curious to see where it would all lead to.
She rested that night, trying her best to relax under the circumstances. She had never even thought that she would find herself in such a situation, one in which reality was questioned, yet here she was.
After a long and tiring night, the next morning, she woke up and groaned, sitting up in her bed, where she felt her head throb with a headache.
She passed her finger through her hair, with a sigh. "I should freshen up and get dressed before they summon me."
She reluctantly got out of bed and went to freshen up for the first time she got there, trying her best to not think about what will happen next. When she was finished, she got dressed into the clothes they got her, which were pants, boots, and a dress-like button-up shirt.
Just as she finished, Saela walked into the room, followed by two guards. "You have been called to the court; let's go. Take something to eat as well."
She threw Rinley a bread, which she collected and they escorted her out, heading to the throne room.
Upon arrival, their names were announced and a silence so thick fell over everyone that was in that room that it made Rinley's skin crawl. The air tasted of smoke and stone and every breath carried the weight of judgment.
She stood alone beneath a light that spilled from an open skylight, her form backlit by an ethereal glow. Behind her, the remnants of the summoning circle had long since faded, as if the world itself wanted to forget she had ever arrived.
But the people hadn't.
They stared, waiting for what seemed to be her judgement, something no human should have the power of casting upon another.
Draped in silks, encrusted armor and sharp noble eyes, the court watched Rinley as though she were a creature in a cage or, worse, a weapon dropped at their feet with no instructions on how to disarm it.
At the dais, two thrones towered over all. The king sat forward, his frame wide and graying, eyes hard like chiseled iron. Beside him, the queen reclined with unnerving calm, a gloved finger tapping her cheek in thought. Her eyes, painted gold and rimmed in kohl, never once blinked.
Neither had spoken yet.
But the court had.
Whispers curled through the chamber like smoke slipping beneath a door.
"Is that her?"
"She's too young to be that one—"
And then a tone softer than most caught her attention.
"What is that on her leg?"
Rinley felt it, eyes dragging down her body, catching on the faint gleam of her half-prosthetic leg, reshaped to match the form of this new world. Aesthetically refined, smooth as poured silver, but foreign. Still hers. Still a mark of the person she had been, whether they understood it or not.
Saela stood off to the side, near the queen's right hand, her face unreadable. Her silence offered Rinley no clues. Whatever familiarity they had exchanged earlier was buried now, locked under protocol and formality.