The Tenth Life
"Aria! You're going to make us late again!"
The voice came from downstairs, cheerful, impatient, and unmistakably familiar. Aria groaned softly, pulling the blanket over her face. Morning sunlight leaked through the half-open curtains, falling across her room in bright, uninvited streaks.
For a moment, she didn't move. Just lay there, staring at the ceiling. The silence between her heartbeat and the ticking clock filled the room, like time itself had paused, waiting for her to catch up.
Ten lives. Ten beginnings. Ten endings.
She blinked, exhaling slowly as she turned to the side. "Coming, Mira," she muttered. Her voice sounded calm, but inside, there was that same quiet ache that never left.
Aria pushed herself up, her black hair falling loosely around her shoulders. The mirror across the room reflected a girl who looked completely normal, a young woman with soft brown eyes, smooth skin, and a face the world would never suspect of hiding centuries' worth of memories. But beneath that calm, modern exterior was a soul that had seen kingdoms fall, families vanish, and her own death more times than anyone should.
She brushed her hair slowly, her gaze distant. Some mornings, she could almost trick herself into believing she was like everyone else, born once, living once. But then the dreams came back. They always did.
Last night's had been different. Clearer. She could still hear the crackling of flames, feel the heat licking her skin, smell the faint trace of smoke that lingered even after she woke. Somewhere in that dream, a voice had whispered her name, not Aria, but something else. A name she didn't remember but somehow belonged to her.
Lyria.
The name drifted in and out of her mind like a forgotten melody. Sometimes it came in dreams, sometimes in fleeting moments when the wind brushed her cheek or when she saw fire dancing in the distance. But every time she tried to hold onto it, it slipped away, like water through her fingers.
She shook her head. "Get it together, Aria," she whispered to herself.
Pulling on a light sweater, she made her way downstairs. Mira was already at the table, munching on toast, scrolling through her phone. She looked up and smiled the moment she saw her.
"Finally! I was about to eat your share too."
Aria smiled faintly, sitting opposite her. "You always say that."
"Because you always take forever." Mira rolled her eyes dramatically, then laughed. "You have that 'lost in your own world' look again. What were you dreaming about this time?"
Aria froze for a heartbeat, then forced a small laugh. "Nothing. Just… weird things."
"Like?"
Aria hesitated. She wanted to say it, wanted to describe the fire, the screams, the feeling of falling and never landing, but she didn't. How could she? Who would believe that she had lived and died ten times before this? That every time she closed her eyes, fragments of different centuries played behind her eyelids like an endless film she couldn't stop watching?
"Like… an old castle," she said finally, taking a sip of tea. "It was burning. I think I was there."
Mira shuddered. "Creepy. You've been watching too many historical dramas."
"Maybe," Aria murmured, but her gaze was distant again.
Breakfast continued in laughter and small talk, but part of Aria wasn't there. Her mind was always split, half in the present, half trapped in echoes of the past. She had tried everything to forget, therapy, journaling, meditation, but the memories always found her.
Because they weren't dreams. They were lives.
The first had been a blur of pain and flame, the one she couldn't fully remember. After that, the cycle began: reborn as a healer in a desert city, then as a scholar in an empire that vanished, a servant girl who loved a prince, a child in a village swallowed by plague, a warrior, a seamstress, a poet, a queen, and now… a simple modern girl named Aria.
Each life had ended differently, some in peace, some in tragedy, but always too soon. And every time, before her final breath, she felt it: the same whisper. Until the curse is broken.
But whose curse? Why hers?
She didn't know.
Mira's voice snapped her back to reality. "Hey, earth to Aria! You okay?"
Aria blinked. "Yeah, just… thinking."
"You think too much," Mira teased. "You need to live more."
Aria smiled faintly. Live. The word always sounded strange to her. Living had become something she did by habit, not by hope. She didn't know what it meant to truly live when she could remember dying so many times.
After breakfast, she stepped outside. The sky was clear and the air fresh, but there was that faint chill that made her skin prickle, like a whisper from another time. Across the street, a boy walked past wearing an old-style pendant. The design caught her eye, two curved blades crossing beneath a sunburst symbol.
Her breath hitched.
She'd seen it before. Not here. Not now. In a world long gone.
A flash hit her, quick and sharp.
A courtyard in flames. A man standing with that same symbol engraved on his armor. His sword shining in the light of a burning sky. And then pain, deep, searing pain, followed by her own voice screaming something she couldn't remember.
Aria stumbled back, clutching her head. The vision vanished as quickly as it came, leaving her gasping, her pulse racing.
"Aria?" Mira's voice came from behind her. "What's wrong?"
"I… nothing," Aria whispered, forcing a smile. "Just dizzy."
But inside, she was trembling. That wasn't a dream. That was a memory.
For the rest of the day, the image wouldn't leave her mind. The symbol, the fire, the scream , all fragments of something she didn't understand. She tried to shake it off, distract herself, but it followed her like a shadow she couldn't escape.
That night, sleep came late. The moonlight poured through her window, bathing her room in silver. Aria lay awake, staring at the ceiling, her mind drifting between centuries.
And then she heard it again, faint but unmistakable, the whisper.
Until the curse is broken.
Her heart froze.
"Who are you?" she whispered into the darkness.
No answer. Just the wind brushing against the curtains, soft and haunting.
But deep down, Aria knew the truth. She wasn't free. The cycle hadn't ended. The curse still bound her, dragging her through life after life, death after death.
And somewhere out there, hidden in the shadows of history and time, was the reason why.
She closed her eyes, and for a moment, she saw fire again, not destruction, but something else this time. A beginning.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice, her own voice from long ago, whispered softly:
"You made a promise, Lyria. Don't forget."
Her eyes snapped open, her heart pounding.
Lyria.
That name again.
Outside, the night deepened, and the stars watched silently as another life began to stir.