"…You can't get married."
"But it's Father's order. I can't go against it."
"I don't care whose order it is. And since when have you been this obedience?"
"Please, just let me go…"
"I won't let you. Not another man. Not while I'm alive."
Verona jerked backward as the vision disappeared as quickly as it came, leaving her staring at the dull gray walls around her.
She pressed a hand to her temple. "What in the world was that?" she muttered. "Great, now I'm seeing things."
It wasn't the first time, though. Since being locked up here, she'd started seeing flashes. Little fragments of conversations she couldn't quite make out. The faces, voices, all blurry and unfamiliar. Maybe it was because of the tower. Maybe she was finally losing it. Hard to tell which was worse.
She sighed and sat back against the cold wall. It had been hours, and she'd run through every escape idea she could think of and sadly, none of them worked. She had been so sure earlier that she'd figure it out. But now? Now she was just stuck, and her powers weren't doing her any favors.
The Tower of Solmir. A place where magic went to die.
No spell could be cast. No power could bloom.
It had been a "safe" confinement for those with magic who'd gone mad, but was nothing short of a prison. No, not even that. Prisons, at least, had windows. This tower didn't. Just smooth, gray walls that seemed to swallow light.
She could never tell if it was day or night, whether hours or days had passed. It was like being trapped in someone's forgotten dream or a nightmare.
She just didn't understand why her father put her in here. Why not a dungeon? Or a basement? But no, he stuck her here like he wanted people to notice immediately.
There was no answer, of course. Only the faint drip of water somewhere far below.
Maybe he didn't want to be that obvious. Or maybe this place, old and avoided by everyone, suited him better.
After all, there were rumors. People said this tower was cursed, haunted by the souls of those who'd died here when their powers were sealed away. Spirits that never left.
Verona had never really thought about it before. But now, stuck here, she couldn't stop thinking about it.
"Lovely," she muttered. "A prison and a graveyard. How thoughtful, Father."
She ran her fingers along the uneven stone floor. No light seeped in, no air stirred. It was suffocating but she refused to give in to despair.
She'd tried earlier to summon her power, to at least feel something that used to pulse inside her veins. But it was useless. Nothing happened.
The tower really suppressed everything.
Was it still there? That question wouldn't leave her alone. Maybe she didn't have power anymore. Maybe she never had it to begin with, and it had all been some cruel desperate imagination.
"No," she said aloud, shaking her head. "It's still there. It has to be. The tower suppresses magic, that's all."
She placed her palms flat on the cold ground, closing her eyes. Focus. Feel. Remember.
For a long moment, nothing happened.
Then… a flicker.
A tiny vibration under her skin, faint as a heartbeat.
She gasped softly, pushing harder, drawing on that fragile thread of warmth. And suddenly…
A burst of light exploded from her hands, blinding and fierce.
The force threw her back against the wall. Her breath caught as pain shot up her spine, and she coughed, the air thick with the scent of burnt dust.
When her vision cleared, she saw… feet.
Bare, hovering just above the ground.
Please… please let it not be some spirit or anything. She hated the idea that the rumor might actually be true.
Verona froze. Slowly, she lifted her gaze and nearly forgot how to breathe.
A woman stood, no… floated before her, draped in white so bright it seemed like it was made from moonlight. Her hair flowed like silk in invisible wind, her eyes luminous, calm, and terribly familiar.
She looked familiar and then it her.
"You," Verona whispered. "You were at my execution."
The woman smiled faintly, her voice soft yet echoing like wind through glass. "This tower suppresses your power quite well," she said. "I'm surprised you managed to call me at all."
"Who… who are you?" Verona asked, pulling herself upright.
"My name is Iora," the woman replied. "Guardian of the Element Stone."
"Element Stone?" Verona repeated, blinking.
"Yes. The one you carry within you."
That made Verona pause. "Wait, what are you talking about? I don't-"
"I came because I felt your call," Iora said, her tone kind, almost motherly. "It took me some time to find you again."
"Iora…" she murmured. "I've heard that name before."
Verona's mind raced. The name tugged at her memory, something from a half-forgotten story. A spirit said to dwell inside the legendary stones that governed the elements. That was what the legend said.
"Of course you have." The spirit tilted her head, smiling wistfully. "You used to speak to me often. Before everything fell apart."
"You're… real?" Verona asked faintly.
Iora's lips curved in amusement. "More real than most things you've known."
Verona frowned. "Why didn't you appear before?"
The question slipped out before she could stop it.
For a moment, Iora only studied her, eyes shining with something she dared to call as affection? "Because you weren't ready," she answered at last. "And I was… sleeping. Waiting for your soul to awaken again."
Verona's heart thudded in her chest. "So, you know…?"
"That you died once?" Iora's lips curved gently. "Yes. And that you were brought back. Time was turned, threads rewoven. I was the one who guided it."
It felt impossible, absurd, and yet, deep down, Verona believed her.
Her throat tightened. "Then… it was you who turned back time?"
Iora nodded.
Verona's throat tightened. "Why?" she murmured. "Why help me?"
"There are things you must remember," Iora said quietly. "Things that belong to you and to the world."
The spirit's light flickered, dimming like a candle losing flame.
"Wait," Verona said quickly, stepping closer. "Don't go yet. I still have questions. Why now? Why me?"
"There's much to tell," Iora said softly. "But not yet. My power is still weak, being here drains it further."
Verona reached out instinctively, as if she could hold her there. "Please-"
Iora smiled again, that same sorrowful smile. "Now, before I forget…"
She leaned closer, her voice barely a whisper. "Congratulations, Verona. You've awakened your power again."
Then, with a faint chuckle, she added, "And remember this… this tower, this cage, these walls? They're nothing compared to what you once were."
Verona's breath caught. "What I once was?"
But Iora was already fading, light unraveling like smoke in the wind.
"Wait!" Verona cried. "What do you mean? What was I…?!"
No answer.
The room fell silent again. Only the faint hum of magic lingered, like nothing else ever happened before.
Verona sank to her knees, staring at the space where the spirit had stood.
For a long while, she said nothing. The tower felt different now, less suffocating, somehow.
She pressed a trembling hand to her chest. Her heartbeat was wild, alive.
"So it's true," she whispered. "All of it."
Her reflection in the faint shimmer of light looked foreign, eyes wide, a mixture of fear and wonder swirling within them.
If what Iora said was real, then this prison wasn't impenetrable.
And if the tower couldn't contain her…
A slow, determined smile tugged at her lips.
"I have to find a way out," she said under her breath. "One way or another."
Her father had locked her away to keep her powerless. But power had just answered her call.
And for the first time since her death and rebirth, Verona felt something like hope. Dangerous, burning, unstoppable hope.
"Wait for me, Elric."