She sat in her bed with her back straight, fingers gripping the sheets, breathing carefully through the air that felt too clean to be real.
Morning light filtered through tall Vale estate windows. Pale gold. Harmless.
Her pulse thudded in her ears. She watched the wall. Her shadow was normal now.
Think.
If this was madness, it was precise.
The carved desk by the window. The silver-framed mirror. The faint crack in the ceiling near the corner beam.
All exactly as it had been when she was sixteen.
Before the academy. Before the execution. Before the blade.
She swung her legs off the bed. The floor was warm beneath her feet. When she stood, her reflection stood with her.
Her throat was smooth when she touched it.
No scar. No memory of pain in the skin. But she remembered dying. She remembered the rain. She remembered the whisper.
A knock came at the door, Three soft taps.
Her heartbeat spiked.
"Aeris?" a maid called gently from outside. "It's nearly time."
Nearly time for what? She thought.
Her mind moved quickly, rearranging timelines. Sixteen That year. The academy enrollment ceremony was in two weeks.
She closed her eyes.
If this was truly the past, then today—
A glass would fall in the east corridor at breakfast and It had slipped from a servant's tray. She remembered because she had been annoyed by the noise.
"Enter," Aeris said.
Her voice sounded steadier than she felt.
The maid stepped inside and bowed lightly.
As the woman lifted her head— Aeris heard it.
A faint pressure in the air. A whisper without words.
It brushed against her ears like dry leaves sliding over stone.
The maid smiled politely.
But beneath the smile was tension. Fear. She was lying about something.
The whisper faded as the maid spoke. "Your father requests you join him for breakfast."
Aeris's fingers curled slightly.
The whisper had come the moment the maid smiled.
She tested it.
"Did he seem upset?" Aeris asked casually.
The maid blinked. "No, Lady Aeris. He was in good spirits."
The whisper returned. Stronger this time.
She swallowed. Her father was not in good spirits.
Her pulse increased The room felt narrower.
And for a split second— The walls flickered.
Marble. Candles. Rain.
Then her bedroom snapped back into place.
She walked to the mirror again Studied herself. Sixteen. There was something sharper there now. Something older.
_______________________________________
Breakfast hall
Long table. Tall windows. Vale insignia carved into the high ceiling.
Exactly as she remembered.
Her father sat at the head. Her mother at his right. Lucien at his left. The same formation as the execution night.
Her pulse began climbing again as She stepped forward.
"Good morning," she said. Her voice echoed softly.
Cassian Vale looked up.
His expression was composed, controlled.
But the skin beneath his eyes— tired.
"You're early," he observed.
Aeris nodded.
In three seconds—
The servant behind her would trip slightly when placing tea at the far end of the table.
Her grip would loosen The glass would fall.
She turned her head slightly toward the east side of the hall.
Three. Two. One.
The tray tilted and The glass slipped.
Aeris moved before she consciously chose to. Her hand caught it mid-air.
Perfectly.
The hall went quiet.
She hadn't even looked at it directly.
Her heart was racing now.
The whisper began rising again—
but not from anyone else From beneath her.
Her shadow had stretched farther than it should have.
Just a fraction Like it had reached first.
Lucien's eyes narrowed slightly. "You've improved your reflexes."
Aeris placed the glass down slowly.
"Yes," she said.
Inside her mind, something was unraveling.
She had remembered correctly. This was the past Or a reconstruction of it.
She tested again.
"Father," she said gently, "you plan to send me to Crimson Academy."
Silence fell briefly.
Her mother's fingers paused over her cup.
Cassian studied her and then said "That decision has not yet been discussed."
The whisper surged sharply. Strategic.
It vibrated at the base of her skull Her heart hammered harder. The candles along the wall flickered—Though there was no wind.
He had already decided Just as before.
Aeris inhaled slowly Her pulse refused to calm.
And in that rising rhythm— a flicker passed before her eyes. A corridor.
Stone floors. Academy uniforms. Blood streaked along lockers.
Then—
nothing.
She was back at the breakfast table.
Lucien watching her carefully. Her mother's gaze unreadable. Her father composed.
Her hand trembled once She pressed it against the table to steady herself. This was not just memory. Not just rebirth. Something had rewound her life—
but it had not returned her alone.
Across the polished marble floor, her shadow shifted slightly, as if settling into place beside her.
[End of the chapter 2.]