Chapter 3

        Encircled by golden arrays, fed by the tranquil sustenance of an eternal ocean-sky view, and as light as a feather, a warm feeling encompassed my entire being.

Amid a large meadow, the light that had been dimmed seemed to shine, and warm air met with mine as I touched invisible things and scorched my insides.

In the split second, it took for my hearing to perk up, I could make out the gasps of someone who was struggling for air as the feet that had touched every petal on the ground soared into the faraway depths of an unknown realm.

I clutched my heart tightly from the chest that encased it as the sensation of a burning throat washed over me and the sound that escaped was nothing but ash. The sharp agony shot straight through me, as if an arrow had struck me, or worse, a knife had pierced my chest.

I kept striking my chest till the pain subsided. I glanced around and noticed that the sun was shining from somewhere beyond my old balcony.

This location is quite familiar to me; it was my birthplace when I was eight years old. The floral embellishments embedded in the circle of the golden wreath above had not changed. 

The wall was painted a golden hue, each lining reflecting my personal preferences. I still vividly recall how I used to spend the entire night watching the Dream Tree—a tree that blooms only occasionally—just to see it.

When at last my gaze settled on the enormous mirror directly before my bed, my entire face was filled with disbelief.

I saw a young, noble woman dressed in a nightgown, clutching her chest as if in agony, her eyes as big as daisies, her lips as red as strawberries, her hair flowing down to her back, revealing its sheen as the golden mist enveloped her whole person.

Even though everything she valued was there in front of her, I could still see the sinister aura lurking in the back of her mind. It's a picture of a hardly recognizable lady. Her face was filthy, her lips were dried up and puffy, and her skin was rotting. She had a dark greyish hood.

There were two sides to the same living, noblewoman, but I could only think of one thing.

"This is not taking place," I muttered.

Everything stopped the instant the blade reached my neck, including my heartbeat, breathing, and vision. My body was all that was left, and the monsters would consume it. I am aware of it, so why am I here?

I pinch my cheeks to see whether I was harmed, and sure enough, the memory of my cheeks turning red and almost exploding was a small sign that I had returned to the past and that this was not a dream or a place for introspection.

How did this come about?

I tried coming up with ideas on how to make things return to as it was, but it was just too much of an impossibility.

Nobody can go back in time; once something has been done, it is done and cannot be undone. 

However, here I am.

Or was everything that I've gone through just a dream? No, more like a bad dream?

If that's the case, it seems too vivid, too fantastical to be a nightmare. 

I narrowed my eyes, shook my head, and fiddled with my hair before getting out of bed. Everything fell to the ground when I tried to claim texts that I had never read before, from history to the early empire.

I noticed that every book fell and that my hands were shaking. My legs began to shake, and before I knew it, I merged with the book and toppled over it.

I wrapped my arms around my knees and felt as if I was sleeping soundly, like a newborn in need of nourishment to survive.

But I have experienced that. I have always relied on the people I love and trust the most, but in the end, it was the individuals I showed love and care for that would cause the most agonizing experience a person could go through in their lives.

"What's the purpose?" I challenged myself to reach for the sun, but all that remained were beams of light piercing my palms, and the air only managed to escape my grasp.

Time passed, and I remained in that position until a silver lining or rays emerged from under the veil of darkness.

I only wanted to see the moon, so I didn't even bother tidying my room or picking up the fallen book. Instead, I headed towards the balcony and leaned forward to take in the scent of fresh air.

Every time I lean forward and feel the breezes, it still brings back the same nostalgic feeling—as if a glacier were freezing my skin.

I was all too familiar with that emotion, having experienced it continuously for the years since my birth.

I have spent my entire life in a region of the Delavoix empire that is in the south. I was raised by the well-known Vermier family, who supplied the empire with warriors and occasionally engaged in trade related to the extraction of gemstones from the Denchier.

For as long as I could remember, both my mother and father had been Duke and Duchesses of the Vermier family. Since my father was in charge of the southern empire, we have lived in harmony there. 

I could walk around freely and greet people with confidence because I knew that they would do the same. I saw the area flourish, the common people lived in peace, and they were the wealthiest group among the people outside.

That was how things had always been, as long as I could recall.

Even though my life had been like that, I felt as though something was missing from my soul. I'm not sure what it was like, but the same year, a prince from the Delavoix empire's Benthrol Capitol visited our home and remained there for however long the emperor wanted his son to behave.

I wasn't sure at first why the prince had visited our home; was there a disturbance of some sort? But as time passed, I came to understand that it was done so the emperor could impart some wisdom to his son.

In the year 1000 AD, I met a little child with whom I felt I could spend the rest of my life. I'm not sure what had happened in the past, or why the emperor had sent the second prince to our country.

When I held his warm hands for the first time since I was born, I sensed that.

I had never held hands before, let alone a stranger's if it wasn't necessary, as when I had to give someone food or travel to an event, but Charles was the first young child whose tender touches made me feel protected.

I felt as though I wanted to spend all of eternity with him that day.

However, I had the want to be completely engulfed by the earth at that same instant. My eyes reflected the same breadth as the silver orb from the veiled sky since I knew the precise day we'd be able to meet.

My cool hands clutched the stool as if it were my lifeline, a rope made of invisible thread that would look as though I wanted it to hold my life and carry me where I wanted to go.

In the end, though, I'm not even sure why I'm even bothering to resurrect if all I'll get to do is live again as a catastrophic young woman.

I've had enough of being treated like a puppet and a doll by someone who exploited me for his own gain. I've also had enough of being so blinded by that death that it clouded my judgment because all he showed was his everlasting façade.

Was it really feasible for me to take back control of my own life?

I don't even know where to begin because he was just a little child when we first met, and it's not like he thought that way. Before I could say another word, a brilliant golden light suddenly materialized.

I turned to look behind me and noticed a tiny golden sparkle of light shimmering among the books that had fallen to the ground. I pulled the books aside out of curiosity when I noticed a little book with no title on the cover shining like it had previously been covered in the mists of the sun.

"What's going on?" I said in a whisper, but at that very moment, I noticed that the book had opened and the pages had turned without anyone touching it. As a result, I staggered to the ground, barely covering my mouth with my hands. 

While leaning against the walls close to the balcony, I could feel myself shivering. However, the book continued to turn as if on its own, and after a little while, it stopped and moved to where I was.

I felt my legs shaking as I stood and ran, and right before I could get out of my door, my feet twisted and I fell onto the bed. I had no choice but to wrap the blanket around my trembling body and hug it.

I held that position for as long as I could before gasping for air and looking outside to see if the light was still there.

I blinked, dismissing it as a hallucination, and pulled myself to reveal the book hiding in front of me. I pushed it aside and turned my head to look elsewhere, but as I reached for a stick on my bedside table, my eyes lingered on the inks written on the book.

My curiosity was piqued once more, and shortly after, I came upon a language that appeared to be written in an old language and was hardly readable.

Nevertheless, I was familiar with those terms because I had studied them while studying the imperial family's ancient tongue.

It's the Ribiscus, a language that was originally employed a century ago when Emperor Revenier established the empire.

"What you see is what you feel, yet behind it all, there's a mirror or veil. Trust is like a glass; if held too firmly, it can leave a scar, therefore attempting to avoid the past won't help with the future. When you find the inner kid within his soul, you'll witness the outcomes of trying to change what was obvious to the unaided sight."

That was a lengthy section, but what does this book actually imply, and why did it just emerge out of nowhere?