I ran.
Not because I had a plan.
Not because I believed escape was possible.
I ran because staying meant being erased.
The palace corridors unraveled before me in endless stretches of marble, torchlight shivering across the walls as my bare feet struck the floor in frantic rhythm.
My breath tore through my chest, sharp and uneven, far too loud in the hollow silence. Every turn felt wrong. Every shadow felt aware.
By sundown.
The words scraped against my thoughts like claws.
Zaeran’s voice echoed in my memory—strained, fractured—carrying something she had not said. Something she had known. Something she had been forced to swallow.
I burst into my chambers and slammed the doors shut behind me. The impact shuddered through the walls.
My hands fumbled with the lock, fingers trembling so violently the key nearly slipped from my grasp. When it finally turned, I pressed my forehead to the wood and forced air into my lungs.
In.
Out.
Nothing pursued me.
Nothing followed.
The silence was unbearable.
I pushed away from the door and spun, panic surging anew. The room was unchanged—soft light, pale drapes, the faint perfume of pressed flowers—but it no longer felt like sanctuary.
It felt like a trap.
I dragged a travel bag from beneath the bed and threw it onto the mattress. Drawers were yanked open and stripped bare. Dresses were shoved inside without care, fabric wrinkling and tangling. Jewelry swept from the vanity clattered into the bag, metal striking metal in frantic noise.
None of it mattered.
I could abandon silk and crowns and tutors.
I could survive without them.
I had to.
The curtains stirred, teasing me with the open sky beyond the window. Cool evening air brushed my skin, carrying the distant murmur of the city.
Freedom.
I slung the bag over my shoulder—
Knock.
My body locked in place.
Another knock followed. Calm. Precise.
“Atarae,” General Griselda’s voice called evenly through the door. “Open the door.”
My heart slammed violently against my ribs.
I backed away in silence until my shoulders struck the bed. My grip tightened around the strap of the bag until my fingers burned.
“I won’t,” I whispered, unsure if the sound carried. “Please. Just… go away.”
Silence answered.
Then—
“Very well.”
Something in her tone hollowed my chest.
I ran for the window.
The ledge was narrow, the drop dizzying, but I did not hesitate. I climbed and leapt—
For one breathless, terrifying instant, I was free.
Then the air snapped.
Green light detonated around me, sharp and blinding. Power coiled around my wrists and ankles, searing and alive, yanking me violently to a halt above the open air. A scream tore from my throat as pain flared white-hot through my limbs.
The bag slipped from my shoulder and fell, vanishing into the distance below.
“No—!” I cried, struggling uselessly as the magic tightened, dragging me back toward the balcony.
Behind me—
The door shattered open.
Green light flooded the room as General Griselda stepped through the wreckage, her presence alone commanding the spell. The chains responded instantly, lowering me until my feet hovered just above the stone.
My body shook uncontrollably. Tears blurred my vision
She approached without urgency.
“Please,” I sobbed, the word breaking apart as it left me. “Please—I’ll do anything. I won’t run again. I promise. Just don’t—don’t do this—”
She stopped in front of me.
Her expression was unreadable.
“This is necessary,” she said.
The words crushed the air from my lungs
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head in frantic denial. “You’re wrong. I don’t want to forget. Please—I don’t want to—”
My voice collapsed into sobs.
Footsteps echoed behind her.
Hope surged, sudden and painful.
I twisted my head—
Zaeran stood in the doorway.
I had never seen her look like that. Her composure was splintered, held together only by sheer force of will. Her hands were clenched at her sides, knuckles white, her entire body rigid.
“Zaeran,” I cried, reaching for her as the chains bit deeper. “Please—help me. Please—don’t let her—”
Griselda glanced back.
One look.
Zaeran did not move.
Something in her eyes broke anyway.
Griselda raised her hand.
The magic shifted.
It did not burn.
It hollowed.
Something was pulled from me—torn away in jagged fragments that burned as they left.
Memories shattered violently, slicing through me like glass. Laughter. Warmth. Familiar voices. Moments I only understood I was losing as they were ripped from my grasp.
I screamed until my throat failed me.
Cold rushed into the emptiness they left behind.
Foreign memories pressed in—heavy, distorted, wrong—settling into the hollows like poison masquerading as truth.
My strength gave out.
The world dimmed, darkness bleeding inward from the edges.
The last thing I saw—
Zaeran.
Her face contorted in agony, tears streaking down her cheeks, lips trembling as if she were screaming my name without sound.
Then the light vanished.
And darkness took me.
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