"Your Highness, please stop spinning."
A gentle voice broke the stillness of the well-furnished room.
"Sorry, Mary! I'm just so excited!" A young girl twirled in place, her black hair fanning out like a midnight ribbon.
Mary sighed, watching her with a mix of amusement and worry. "Princess Alexia, you might slip."
Alexia only giggled, skipping toward the bathroom. "I won't!"
She shut the door behind her with a soft click.
"Mary, I can do this myself," she called from inside.
Mary leaned against the door. "Your Highness, why are you like this? It's my duty to serve you."
A pause. Then, Alexia's voice echoed lightly against the bathroom walls—soft but sure.
"My mother— I mean, Concubine Mother—said I should always treat elders with respect."
Mary stilled.
Outside, she waited.
Inside, Alexia carefully went about her task, her small hands working with the quiet determination of someone who had learned too young that relying on others could be dangerous.
Somewhere far away, Alexia felt warmth. A weight pressing down on her chest.
No.
Not warmth. Heat.
Her body felt heavy. The scent of flowers lingered too thick in the air.
And then—
Darkness.
Then—
A memory.
---
Mary eyed the rows of grey garments in the wardrobe, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Your thoughts, Highness? Is today special?"
Alexia, still in her inner wear, bounced on the bed, her head nearly touching the deep red and purple canopy.
"Of course it is, Mary! Today is the day I officially awaken as a princess of Aethera! Father said I'll be one of the strongest fighters in the kingdom!" She grinned, miming a sword swing.
Mary chuckled but gestured at the dull-colored dresses. "Then why grey?"
Alexia froze mid-bounce. The bed swayed beneath her, rising and falling ever so slightly. She twiddled her fingers before glancing at Mary with wide, uncertain eyes.
"Queen Mother likes grey," she whispered. "If I wear it… maybe she'll like me."
Silence.
Mary exhaled softly, kneeling by the bedside. "But this is your day, not the Queen's. Shouldn't you wear something that makes you happy?"
Alexia hesitated, fingers brushing the fabric of a grey dress. Then, just as quickly, she pulled her hand away.
"…This will make me happy," she murmured.
Mary said nothing.
Because they both knew it wasn't true.
Mary sighed, shaking her head. "Alright, Your Highness, but at least add a touch of something—red, blue, even black would be acceptable."
Alexia wrinkled her nose. "That sounds horrid."
Mary huffed, placing her hands on her hips. "Princess, the king adores you, the royal concubine cherishes you, and Prince Lucius practically worships the ground you walk on. Queen Astrid is just a sour lime in the bunch."
Alexia gasped, barely suppressing a giggle. "Mary! That's treason."
Mary smirked. "Only if you tell." With a wink, she knelt by the wardrobe, pulling out a hidden box from beneath the sea of grey dresses. From it, she lifted a crimson gown, its fabric rich and flowing.
"Now, Your Highness," she said, holding it up with a knowing smile, "why don't we dress you like the princess you truly are?"
Alexia sighed. " Okay Mary."
—Darkness.
A new memory.
"Lex! Lex! Look! I found a blue and white frog! I've never seen one like this before!"
A flash of peach hair streaked toward a girl in a vibrant red dress.
Alexia barely had time to react before Lucius skidded to a halt in front of her, grinning ear to ear, proudly holding up the small amphibian.
"Big brother," Alexia huffed, stepping back with a glare. "Get that thing away from me!"
Lucius blinked, tilting his head as if just noticing something far more fascinating than his prized frog.
"Whoa…" His golden eyes widened. "Lex! You look... awesome!"
Alexia barely had time to bask in the rare compliment before—
"Usually, I don't wanna hurt your feelings," he continued, lowering his voice to a mock whisper, "but you look like Mother."
He shuddered dramatically.
Then, as if that insult wasn't enough, he beamed at her. Like he hadn't just obliterated her entire existence in two sentences.
Alexia gaped at him. "Lucius—!"
But he was already too busy admiring his frog, completely oblivious to the murder in her eyes.
Alexia eyed him skeptically. "You always like weird things. What's so special about a frog? I mean... it is kinda cute." She leaned in slightly.
Lucius lowered the tiny creature for her to see, his golden eyes gleaming with excitement.
"It's rare, Lex! I want to study it—its habits, its habitat, its society." His voice was almost reverent, his fingers carefully cradling the tiny amphibian.
He smiled, but there was something oddly intense about the way he looked at it.
"I want to know everything about it," he whispered.
Alexia frowned. "You're not gonna kill it, are you?"
Lucius blinked, looking genuinely startled. "What?"
"If it's rare," she said, tilting her head, "shouldn't you protect it, Big Brother?"
For a moment, Lucius just stared at her—then his eyes widened in realization. He gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. "Lex, you're right! Rare things must be protected at all costs! If I ever find something truly rare, I swear to keep it safe." His words were solemn, but his gaze remained fixated on the frog, as if he were memorizing every detail.
Alexia huffed, shaking her head. "Alright, enough about frogs. Time for the ceremony."
Without another word, she turned and strode away.
Lucius lingered for a moment, glancing between his sister and the tiny creature in his hands.
Then, ever so softly, he whispered, "I'll take good care of you."
— Darkness.
A new scene.
"Wonderful. Wonderful. The time has come!"
A voice boomed through the grand dragon throne room, rich with authority, sending a ripple of tension through the air. The marble floors gleamed, the towering pillars cast long shadows, and the weight of history itself seemed to settle upon the bowed figures of the court.
At the center of it all stood a man whose very presence crushed the air from the lungs of those around him. His golden robes shimmered like sunlight, his piercing gaze sweeping over the kneeling crowd with effortless command.
King Luther.
The Eternal Sun.
The ruler of Aethera.
And behind him, a little girl in a red dress.
She took careful, measured steps, her hands gripping the fabric at her sides to avoid tripping. Each movement was deliberate, but not out of grace—out of sheer survival.
Luther glanced at her.
For the briefest moment, the iron in his gaze melted, his lips curving into something that might have been a smile. A flicker of warmth in an otherwise scorching presence.
But Alexia didn't see it.
She was too busy focusing on her feet, too busy making sure she didn't falter under the weight of a destiny she had yet to understand.
Luther sighed, watching his daughter struggle with her dress before effortlessly lifting her into his arms.
"My great warrior," he declared, his voice echoing through the grand throne room. "Today is your day. Today, you will prove yourself a heir of Dawn—the daughter of Luther!"
Alexia's eyes sparkled at his words. "Yes, Father," she murmured, though her gaze was already scanning the room.
She brightened when she spotted a familiar head of peach-colored hair. Lucius. But then her smile faltered. Just a few feet away, another head of peach hair stood among the gathered nobility—Queen Astrid, the daughter of Dawn.
Her small fingers curled into the fabric of her dress.
Before she could dwell on the thought, her father gently set her down, grounding her back into the moment.
Alexia's gaze swept across the grand hall—until she froze, mesmerized.
On the far side of the room, a woman stood bathed in soft light, her long white hair cascading like silk over her shoulders. Her porcelain skin glowed, ethereal, and though a delicate blindfold covered her eyes, she turned as if she could see.
The moment their gazes met, the woman paused—then smiled, lifting a hand in an excited wave.
Concubine Aria.
Her mother.
Beaming, she gave Alexia a playful thumbs-up.
Alexia's lips twitched, and she subtly returned the gesture.
"All unnecessary personnel, you are dismissed."
King Luther's voice cut through the air like a blade, cold and absolute. His sharp gaze swept the room, lingering—just for a moment—on the moonlit figure in the shadows.
His eyes softened.
His goddess.
Then, just as quickly, his expression hardened once more as he turned his attention to the remaining servants, his glare like ice.
The servants wasted no time, bowing deeply before filing out in neat, silent order.
"High Priest, we may begin."
At her father's command, the High Priest stepped forward, kneeling before the young princess.
Alexia's heart pounded in her chest as she gazed up at the otherworldly man before her, her wide golden eyes tracing his features. His long, silky black hair was woven into an intricate braid, crowned with a jeweled headpiece that shimmered under the grand hall's light. Pale violet eyes met hers—calm, knowing.
He smiled gently. Without a word, he pulled a fine embroidered handkerchief from his sleeve and carefully wiped her small, sweaty palms.
"There is no need to be nervous, my princess. This will be quick and painless," he assured her, his voice smooth and soothing.
Heat rushed to Alexia's cheeks. This is so embarrassing.
Still, she managed a whisper, "Thank you, High Priest." Her gaze flickered over his robes—rich crimson, flowing like liquid fire. "Your clothes... they match mine." The words slipped out before she could stop them.
The High Priest's lips curved into a faint smile, a single teardrop mole at the corner of his eye accentuating the warmth in his expression.
"I suppose they do," he mused.
Tucking away his handkerchief, the high priest took Alexia's hands in his own. His touch was steady, his presence unwavering.
"Close your eyes, Your Highness," he murmured.
Alexia obeyed, squeezing her lids shut.
A warmth bloomed in her chest, like a flickering ember igniting deep within. The sensation spread, tendrils of heat curling through her veins. It wasn't just warmth—it was fire and light intertwined, pulsing with something ancient, something alive.
She parted her lips, a whisper escaping before she could stop it.
"Light and fire."
The moment stretched, thick with unseen power—until it shattered.
A chorus of gasps.
A dark chuckle.
Before Alexia could process what was happening, an invisible force ripped through her. The world tilted violently as she was flung backward.
"Ah!" The cry tore from her throat as her small frame hit the marble floor with a painful thud.
Dazed, she pushed herself up, wide golden eyes darting to the high priest. The warmth he had offered moments ago was gone, replaced by something far colder.
He stared at her—not with reverence, not with kindness, but with something sharp and unfamiliar.
Fear.
Disgust.
And in the background, the slow, deliberate click of heels.
A presence looming just beyond the chaos.
And a voice—low, amused, triumphant.
Queen Astrid.
Alexia looked around, heart pounding. The gazes surrounding her weren't filled with warmth or admiration—but fear, disgust, and something far worse. Hate.
She shivered, instinctively moving backward—only to collide with a soft, familiar presence.
"What is the meaning of this, High Priest? You could have injured my daughter!"
Aria's voice was sharp, icy. Gone was the gentle warmth she always carried—now, she was a mother protecting her child.
But the High Priest only smiled, cold and unyielding. "Your daughter is unnatural. A hybrid. A disgusting hybrid."
The word echoed in Alexia's mind. Hybrid?
Her fingers trembled as they grasped at her long white strands. Dragons don't have white hair.
"Princess, calm down," Aria urged, her tone softer now. "My daughter is perfect."
But Alexia wasn't listening. She was panting, her vision spinning. Something's wrong. Something's wrong.
Her hands flew to her neck, fingertips brushing against her scales. They were still there. Thank Lugus.
But then—her breath hitched. Her fingers trailed to the corners of her ears.
Not round.
Pointed.
"She's half-dragon, half-elf." The High Priest's voice rang through the chamber, final and damning. "If that isn't unnatural, Concubine Aria, tell me—what is?"
Tears welled in Alexia's wide golden eyes.
She wanted to scream.
She wanted to run.
She wanted to disappear.
"But why?" Aria's voice rang out, unwavering despite the weight of the moment. "I may be an elf, but that doesn't explain this! Astrid is a mermaid, and Lucius awakened as a full dragon, didn't he?"
A collective gasp echoed through the chamber. A mere concubine addressing the queen so brazenly? Scandalous.
Lucius blinked, glancing around at the stunned faces before turning to his mother. "Mother… what's happening?" he whispered, his voice laced with confusion.
Then, his gaze landed on Alexia—collapsed on the floor, her white hair gleaming like woven moonlight. His breath hitched.
"When did Lex start looking like a goddess?" he murmured, awestruck.
But Queen Astrid didn't answer. She simply stepped forward, her expression unreadable as she bore down on the trembling girl before her.