Rebirth Of The Fallen Princess

Chapter 5

With a nod, Cille reached for my hands. She cupped them gently in hers. They were ice cold as if she were dead. Yet another thing I found unsettling about her. After a moment, the goddess began to mumble. I couldn't understand anything she uttered. It wasn't a language spoken in any of the six countries of Aeshivar. Yet, some of her words sounded familiar. As if I had heard them before. But that was impossible. How could I recognize the language of gods who had long been forgotten by humanity?

A jolt went through me. Cille tightened her hands and her mumbling turned into chanting. Her blank eyes began to glow a bright white and I struggled to tear my hands away. Her grip didn't loosen in the slightest. Despite her frail appearance, her hold was like trying to break out of solid diamond.

The room began to spin as the piercing pain in my head grew. Soon it became the only thing I was conscious of. I wanted nothing more than to curl up and make it stop, yet Cille's hold did not waver. Little by little, the world around me faded away until all I knew was pain. Then, as if it were merely a figment of my imagination, the pain disappeared. Replacing it was an image of the palace courtyard.

Rain soaked the ground, raising mud from an otherwise flawless lawn. It didn't take much deduction to figure out that the first image Cille showed me was the scene of my execution. The stage was set with Prince Cade and Morrigan sat in makeshift thrones facing a wooden platform. My cousin, Vincent, stood on the platform with his sword unsheathed as I knelt in front of him. So, this was how I died, at the hands of my own flesh and blood. I wished I could say that I was surprised. An execution was surely violent enough to justify my lapse in memory.

Yet no sooner had I come to terms with that did another image appear in front of me. My breath stopped. I was still in the courtyard, but so was Marquess Carne. And with him, the remains of my family. Their heads were stuck on wooden pikes and presented in front of the execution platform specifically for me to see. A wooden cart carried their bodies, my mother's clothes torn, and her body covered in deep cuts. She may have been a warrior, but against Marquess Carne's vast army, even she would have been overwhelmed. And if my father and Kaius had already died, I doubted the marquess had stopped his men from doing what they pleased with her.

My stomach twisted. She had been a proud woman; even though I couldn't be sure my parents loved each other; I knew my mother well. In Sahir, marriage was a binding contract until death. Husband and wife belonged to each other in heart and soul. a******y was arguably worse than treason in their culture. As duchess, she had honored the marriage vows she made. To be defiled by men like that would have broken a key part of her identity. My throat burned as I struggled to suppress my nausea. Marquess Carne had always been a vile man, but I never thought he would go to such lengths to hurt my family. He truly was a monster.

Another image quickly replaced the last. I knew with this one that it had been the last moments of my life. Prince Cade lay over me, his sword plunged through my heart. Vincent hadn't killed me. The man who had promised my family's safety did. The man who had taken everything from me continued until I had nothing left to give. He had taken my family, my honor, my dignity, and finally, my life. My breath caught, as if I could feel the blade passing through my chest.

Just as suddenly as I'd been thrust into my subconscious, I was torn out of it. The images of my past memories disappeared as I found myself again in Jerrik's palace. I hurriedly pushed Cille away. There was just enough time to turn from the two goddesses before I bent over and began heaving. My vision blurred as my stomach strained, trying to expel something that wasn’t there. A gentle hand rubbed circles over my back, but I hardly noticed. All I could focus on was the image of my family and the look of pure satisfaction on Marquess Carne’s face watching my reaction.

"Avyanna!" Lykke exclaimed, her voice muted as she demanded. "Cille, what did you show her?!"

"I warned her what could happen if she forced herself to remember." Her sister's voice was just as quiet. "Trauma is quite a difficult human emotion to predict. That has not changed after all these years."

My body heaved as I finally gained control of my spasms and took in heavy breaths. I felt weak, like my legs would give out beneath me. Opening my eyes, I stared at the stone floor. My hands trembled as they clenched the fabric of my dress, the knuckles white.

"He killed them," I murmured to myself, "He killed my family, and then me."

I looked up at Lykke, feeling the tears forming in my eyes. All my efforts to save my family were in vain. Prince Cade didn't keep his promise. Who were they to call House Rhosyn monsters? We had been wrongfully accused and then slaughtered like sheep. He was the real monster; they all were. My eyes widened as it struck me that this was the afterlife.

"Is my family here as well?" I asked, renewed with hope.

Lykke shook her head softly. "You are a special case, Avyanna. Most souls are able to cross the bridge between life and death without stopping here. That was the case for your family."

"Then I have to move on to the afterlife. You must help me!"

"I.. I cannot."

My mouth opened to protest, but Cille interjected with an explanation, "Your soul is clinging to life. It is much too dangerous to force it to the afterlife."

I sat back in defeat. Even in death, fate scorned me. My family had found peace despite the gruesome ends they had met. But for some reason, my soul could not. Why did it cling to the world of the living? My life had been nothing but a series of pleasing everyone else. It was a pitiful existence. How could anyone want that?

"Sisters," called a disembodied voice, "Brother has finished preparations. Please bring the child and follow me."

Lykke helped me to my feet and I followed lifelessly behind her. My heels tapped noisily on the stone floor as I did little to conceal myself. What good was it if I was dead? In moments, we reentered the throne room I had appeared in. Jerrik sat on the throne, the middle sister, Asta, stood to his right. She looked down her nose at me, this time her gaze pitiful.

Jerrik motioned for the three of us to approach and I climbed the stairs. The noise echoed around the otherwise silent chamber. I came to a stop in front of the throne. Lykke and Cille stood to either side of their brother and faced me. The youngest sister wrung her hands and picked at the fabric of her dress.

"Cille has informed me that your soul is still bound to the living world," the god stated.

I nodded solemnly.

"Avyanna Rhosyn, I have one question for you," Jerrik began, his gaze meeting mine, "if you were to retain your memories of the future and were given a second chance at life, would you strive for revenge against those who will threaten your family?"

I blinked. Was this question strictly hypothetical? Did he have a way for me to return? No, that would be ludicrous. Opening my mouth to reply, I hesitated. In theory, as a member of House Rhosyn, it was my responsibility to abandon all acts of selfishness and act only with the royal family in mind. For twenty-five years, this has been the mindset that determined everything I did in my life. Every decision I made was for the sake of the crown. Yet, after all of that, they were the ones who betrayed us. Could I forgive that? Not likely. But would I be moved to seek revenge for events that had yet to happen?

"No," I replied, raising my head to look squarely at the god. "I would not condemn them for choices they have yet to make. However, that does not mean I will sit by idly and watch the same future take shape. I have felt the grief of losing everything I loved and will not live through it again. I would do my part in ensuring my family lives."

Jerrik maintained our unwavering eye contact for several moments before bowing his head in recognition. I released a breath I didn't know I was holding in. He tested me - for what, I was unsure - and I had passed. Did this mean I would be able to enter the afterlife? My gaze fell on the youngest goddess in search of an answer. Lykke smiled at me, the happiness not quite reaching her eyes. Surely that wasn't a good sign.

Returning my attention to Jerrik, I noticed a small shining bottle in his hand. It was hardly the size of his finger. Inside, the clearest liquid sloshed around. Fascinating. I had never seen anything quite like it. Even water wasn't this clear.

Sensing my questions, Jerrik held out the bottle and explained, "These are the tears of our father, Eluf - god of time. If you were to ingest this, you would awaken in the past. Or so he told us. We have no use for such power and never tested it."

I stared in awe. It could rewrite history as I knew it. Wars could be won, countries could topple. Such power would be dangerous if in the wrong hands. Yet, my instinct told me that this was a one-time option. From the faint regret in Jerrik's eyes, I could tell that these tears were one of the last mementos he had of his father.

"I want you to drink this."

My gaze shot up. I began a protest that died on my lips as another pounding headache took form in my right temple. Wincing, I held my head in my hands. It was a thousand times worse than the last time. My vision blurred and I stumbled, catching myself on the railing. I lowered myself to the ground, landing with a heavy thud. The pain had radiated throughout my entire body. I felt something forced in my hand.

"Take it, Avyanna Rhosyn," Jerrik urged, "I offer this as your means of escape. Mortal souls cannot exist within this realm for long. Those that do, eventually disappear. I do not wish for you to suffer that fate. Drink my father's tears and fight your fate with everything in you. For I fear if you do not, the future will repeat itself and you will never find peace. And I fear the future without your family leads to nothing but ruin."

I couldn't find the strength to argue any further. With my vision going in and out of focus, I fiddled with the cork on the bottle. After a few seconds of struggling, it popped off. My arm shook as I raised the bottle to my lips. The liquid was freezing like I had taken a sip of water from the rivers near the border of the Waste and Etherea. But, also sweet like berries. In seconds, my pain disappeared, and my eyes closed. The world around me seemed to fade away, but I heard one last word before I drifted.

Embla.

My eyelids feel heavy, as if weighed down by the stone. Every muscle in my body ached like I had fought off a hundred soldiers. Yet, all of this was eased by the soft cloth that enveloped my body. I burrowed further into the cool, smooth touch. It was reminiscent of the blankets I had in my bedroom at the Rhosyn estate. Like home.

"My lady, it is time to wake up."

The sudden voice startled me, but I was much too tired to have any kind of true reaction. Even if I felt danger, I wasn't sure I would've been able to even move. Besides, the voice sounded vaguely familiar. I groaned and grumbled unintelligible noises. Though the blankets that surrounded me did well to ease some of my exhaustion, I was much too tired to wake up. Whoever was there could wait.

"I apologize, my lady, but you know how the mistress is when you are late."

My eyes opened lazily, wondering what they could possibly be talking about. Apologize for what? But, when bright rays of sunlight streamed straight into my eyes and my blanket was stripped from the bed, I knew. I grimaced, still exhausted, and sat up. Blinking to clear my eyes, I lifted my head to snap at whoever had woken me. From how my body immediately slumped forward, I wanted to curl back up in my blankets and fall asleep for years.

"Camille?" I murmured, rubbing my eyes to make sure the girl standing before me wasn't a figment of my imagination.

She bowed her head and pressed a cool hand against my forehead, commenting, "You do not have a fever, but you look pale. Are you feeling alright, my lady?"

Though I hardly registered her question, my head nodded. As soon as she touched me, all my thoughts swirled together. She was alive. Camille was alive. But how could that be? Perhaps it had been a dream. A long, horrid nightmare. It made the most sense, but part of me didn't quite believe that. After all, the sorrow of losing the only person I had ever truly called my friend cut much too deeply for it to be a mere dream.

Camille and her older brother, Jerome, came to our estate when I was just ten years old. Two young children from Démencia, neither one had a good grasp of our language. I taught Camille the language of the kingdom while she trained underneath the head maid and after just two years, she became my personal maid. She followed me to the capital when my engagement to Prince Cade was announced. For ten years, she stood by my side. Then, the night of His Majesty's murder, she stayed behind to secure our escape. She lost her life that night.

"Camille," I croaked, forcing down the grief that leapt into my throat, "What is the date?"

With a slightly raised eyebrow, she replied, "It is the fourteenth day of the eleventh month."

"The year, Camille, what is the year?"

"It is 433, my lady. Are you sure you are alright?"

I scrambled out of my bed and came to a stop at a full-length mirror in the corner of my room. My eyes widened at my reflection. Softer, more youthful ones had replaced my sharp elegant features. The growth spurt I experienced when I turned sixteen had vanished, leaving me shorter than Camille.

Running a hand over my cheek, I stared at my reflection in wonder. Eluf's tears had worked. I truly had gone to the past, back to when I was fourteen years old. Before my engagement to Prince Cade was announced at my debut into noble society on my fifteenth birthday. If it was currently the Eleventh Moon... I blinked. In just two months my death would be written in stone. I had two months to break my engagement, ten years to unravel the tangled strings of my fate.

Or else I would lose everything I loved all over again.