"So here's what we're going to do," Uriel said gently. "I'll put you into sleep. And you will wake up in the most vivid part of your dream. But instead of experiencing it through your own eyes, you'll see it as an observer. A third person."
She looked into Evadne's eyes, her tone calm yet firm.
"You will still feel what the past version of you feels. Those emotions will come to you. But you must remember, Evadne, whatever you see in there, whatever happens, it is a memory. A memory of a past you. That is no longer you."
Uriel paused for a moment to let the words sink in.
"No matter what you do, you cannot change what already happened. What matters is how you let it affect you. Not me. Not your parents. You. If you allow your past to dictate the life you live now, then it will control you. But if you choose to accept it, to live through it… then leave it behind and use it as a foundation to rebuild the person you want to be, it will make you stronger. But that's a choice only you can make."
Uriel adjusted the blankets and gently guided Evadne to lie down on the therapy bed.
"I will push you until I reach what I believe is your limit. But if you can't take it anymore, call my name. And I'll pull you out."
Evadne nodded quietly.
"Now… close your eyes. Take a deep breath, and count to twenty. Then open your eyes. Once you open them, you will be there."
Evadne obeyed.
She closed her eyes, inhaled slowly, deeply.
"One… two… three…"
She counted.
"…Nineteen… twenty…"
And she opened her eyes.
Her breath caught.
She was standing in a cold, damp space that looked like a dungeon or a stone basement. The walls were dark and rough, but glowing stones embedded between them cast an eerie, pale light.
The room was empty. Silent. And then, BANG! The heavy door slammed open.
"Let me go!!!"
A girl, around seventeen, overweight, trembling, was dragged into the room by two knights. Evadne didn't know how she recognized them as knights. There were no obvious uniforms or swords in sight, and yet… she knew. In her gut. In her bones.
"Stop struggling, princess," one of them sneered, his grip cruel on the girl's wrist. "You should be grateful we're even touching you. Do you really think any man would ever want you? We're only doing this because Princess Celine commanded it."
He laughed, a disgusting, hollow sound. The other men joined him. Two more knights followed inside, leering.
Evadne's heart stopped. Her knees weakened.
Because that girl…
That trembling, broken girl with Ceres's face, was her.
Not the her now, but the past her.
"No…" Evadne's voice broke, whispering into the dark. "Stop… stop what you're doing to her…"
But they couldn't hear her.
The knights tore the gown from the past Ceres's body, exposing her as she screamed for help, screamed until her throat turned raw. They laughed harder. When she tried to protect herself, they kicked her. They spat on her. They mocked her weight, her magiclessness. Her weakness.
Evadne lunged to stop them, to shove them off, but her hands passed through them like mist. Like she wasn't there. Like she was nothing more than a shadow.
A ghost.
"No… please…" she whispered, tears spilling freely down her cheeks.
One by one, they defiled her. Took turns.
Like animals.
And all Evadne could do was watch.
She dropped to her knees, sobbing, powerless. And as she wept, fragments, small, sharp shards of memory, pierced through her mind.
She remembered her name.
Ceres Evadne Valeria.
First Princess of the kingdom of Vaelundis.
A world called Solmara.
And though she bore the title of first princess, she was unwanted. Despised.
Because unlike her royal siblings, she had no mana.
No ability to cast magic. No access to the divine energy that flowed through the veins of their bloodline.
Vaelundis was the second wealthiest of the six kingdoms of Solmara. Its first princess was meant to be revered, celebrated, for she was the one meant to lead the sacred Bounty Festival. A ceremony to bless the sea that gave their nation riches and life.
But not her.
She had never led it. Never cast a single spell. Never stood proudly like a princess should.
Because to them, her kingdom, her family, she was broken. A disgrace.
And that disgrace gave others the right to hurt her.
To ruin her.
Evadne curled into herself, arms wrapped tightly around her trembling frame, watching the worst of her begin to bleed into her now.
The pain wasn't just emotional.
It was cellular, as if her soul was splintering all over again, tearing itself in two.
Like she was breaking between who she was then, Ceres, and who she was now, Evadne.
And just when she thought it couldn't get worse, one of the knights leaned over the broken, trembling figure of Ceres, sneering.
"You know what's the only beautiful thing about you, princess?" His voice was mocking, cold. "Even after we've used you over and over, you're still tight. Must be the fat."
The others howled in laughter, like animals. Heartless. Inhuman.
And just like that, they tucked their clothes back into place and left, their cruel amusement echoing in the stone chamber, leaving Ceres, her past self, curled on the ground, broken and silent. She no longer screamed. She no longer cried. Her eyes were open, but hollow.
"I'm sorry…" Evadne's voice cracked as she dropped to her knees in front of her. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you…"
Tears streamed down her face. She reached out, trembling hands trying to wipe away the blood and tears on Ceres's face, but her fingers passed right through. As Uriel warned, this was the past. Untouchable. Immutable. No matter how loud she screamed, she couldn't change what had been done.
The heavy door opened again.
This time, it wasn't knights who entered.
It was a striking young girl, no older than sixteen, surrounded by six silent maids. Her beauty was undeniable. Her poise, regal. But her eyes… her eyes burned with cold cruelty.
Celine.
Ceres's younger sister.
The second-born.
Ceres looked up, broken and trembling. Her voice was hoarse. "Why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to deserve this?"
Celine stepped forward with a smirk and tossed a plain robe near Ceres's torn gown.
"You were born before me," she said coldly. "That's your crime. I am the strongest among us, but because you came out first, the ocean still waits for you. Not me."
Her voice sharpened with venom. "So be grateful that my knights are willing to touch you. With your looks, with your powerlessness, who else ever would?"
She laughed, and her maids followed.
"And don't even think about telling Mother or Father," she added with a smirk. "You know they'll never believe you. They never have."
Then she turned and walked out, her train dragging like the tail of a serpent.
And everything dissolved again.
Evadne blinked, and now she stood in a vast ceremonial chamber. It shimmered like the inside of an ocean bubble, blue and luminous, with glowing coral and floating mana crystals that pulsed gently with ancient power.
She knew this place. Even if it was her first time seeing it in this life.
The Bounty Festival Hall.
And there, just beside a large, ancient stone etched with silver symbols, stood Ceres.
Her past self.
Nervous. Pale.
A woman in a flowing robe of silver and blue stood nearby, facing the stone.
"Read it," the woman commanded without turning around.
"I… I can't," Ceres replied, her voice quiet. Hesitant.
Evadne frowned. That's not true.
She could read it. Evadne could feel it. Ceres knew the words carved into that stone.
It was a chant, a summoning rite to call forth the ocean spirit for the ceremony.
So why was she lying?
Evadne stepped closer, even though she knew no one could hear her.
"Why are you lying, Ceres?" she whispered. "If you read the chant, they'll finally accept you. They'll see your worth…"
And then, unbidden, another voice echoed through her mind.
But it wasn't Ceres.
It was the woman in the silver-blue robe.
Why did I even give birth to such a useless child? It would've been fine if she weren't the firstborn. I never knew… the moment a new first princess is born, the script vanishes from the old one's memory. I would've copied it down, given it to Celine, and she could've taken her place.
Evadne turned slowly toward the woman, Ceres's mother.
Her heart pounded.
She had always seen Cielo in her dreams, her current mother's face replacing the woman who birthed her in the past. But now… now that she was face-to-face with the truth, she saw the difference.
The resemblance was there.
But this woman was not her mother.
And somehow… that brought relief.
Her knees weakened again, but she stood tall, her fists clenched at her side.
Because now she understood.
Ceres hadn't refused the ceremony out of incompetence.
She chose not to lead it.
She chose not to validate the very people who watched her suffer and stayed silent.
She chose silence, not because she couldn't speak.
But because no one deserved to hear her voice.