The letter shook in Seraphina's hands.
My dearest light,
If you are reading this, then you have already died once.
Her breath caught. The carriage rocked under her, but she kept reading her mother's handwriting. Eight years sealed away, still elegant.
And I have done the unforgivable to give you one more breath.
The world split apart.
Reality collapsed. The letter fell from her fingers as the vision hit.
Fire roared. The pyre crackled under her feet and wood snapped.
She was there again at the execution. Her execution.
Chains cut into her wrists. Smoke burned down her throat. The crowds jeered at her. Nobles who had smiled at her dinners now watched her burn, and their faces showed satisfaction.
Alaric stood above it all.
He looked at her across the flames. She thought she saw regret for a second, then he nodded. That single gesture signed her death.
Evelyne stood beside him with tears streaming down her face in perfect grief. Except Seraphina could see the satisfaction underneath those crocodile tears.
The vision pulled Seraphina away from the pyre. Memory shifted.
A study appeared with candlelight and a crystal orb sitting on dark velvet. The orb pulsed with light.
Someone cloaked placed it in front of men she recognized - Alaric's father and his family advisors. The figure's face was hidden and the voice gave away nothing.
"What House D'Lorien has hidden. What the realm forgot."
The crystal flared and visions spilled out. Ancient Flamebearers commanding cosmic fire. Reality bending to their will. Imperial bloodlines mixed with power that could change empires.
Alaric leaned in with hungry eyes.
"The D'Lorien daughter. Seraphina." The figure's words dripped like honey mixed with poison. "Her bloodline runs true. She hasn't awakened yet. The right alliance could control her."
The figure vanished completely.
What happened next was Alaric's choice.
She saw him in his study later with eyes gleaming as he traced Celestine bloodlines through stolen records. He was calculating and planning. The marriage became his way to acquire her, and her power became his path to the throne.
He was a predator, and someone had shown him where to hunt.
Meetings in dark halls followed. Plots built with careful planning. He arranged assassination attempts against the current monarch because if the ruler died, Seraphina's claim through her bloodline would rise faster. He could position himself as King beside her before she even understood what she was.
He built networks with families he could buy. Every choice was his, deliberate and ruthless.
He would make himself King beside her and use her awakened bloodline as proof he deserved the crown.
The vision shifted and showed another player in the game.
Evelyne in a private study with Alaric. Papers spread across the table showing bloodline claims and succession rights. Her face carried none of the sweet cousin performance she showed in public.
"When you're King," Evelyne said, tracing the documents with careful fingers, "what happens to your mistress?"
Alaric pulled her close. "You become Queen. Once her power is mine, once the throne is secure, we remove the Flamebearer and you take your rightful place."
Seraphina saw the calculation in Evelyne's eyes. The cold patience. She wasn't a victim of Alaric's plotting. She was a willing partner.
That's why Evelyne stayed as mistress. Why she endured the humiliation of being second. Because they needed Seraphina alive long enough to awaken her power and legitimize Alaric's claim. Then Evelyne would step over Seraphina's corpse straight into a crown.
She wasn't stupid. She was strategic. And she was willing to wait.
The vision shifted again, pulling Seraphina somewhere else entirely.
Her mother's private study. Books scattered across every surface. Ancient texts spread open with desperate notes. Scrolls unrolled on the floor, some torn. Candles burned down to nothing.
Lady Adrianne stood in the center with wild eyes and shaking hands. Her hair hung loose and tangled. Her dress was the same one she'd worn for days.
"There has to be another way." Her mother's voice cracked as she flipped through another tome. "There has to be."
Seraphina watched her mother try ritual after ritual. Protective wards that failed. Counter-prophecy spells that fizzled. Binding magic that wouldn't hold.
Days blurred together. Lady Adrianne consulting practitioners who backed away. Reading forbidden texts that offered no solutions. Trying blood magic, light magic, impossible combinations.
Nothing worked. Nothing changed the future she'd seen.
Seraphina watched her mother collapse at her desk, surrounded by failures. Watched her weep with the grief of being out of options.
"I can't save you from dying." Lady Adrianne's voice broke. "But maybe I can give you another chance after."
The regression spell lay before her. Forbidden. Dark. Requiring the caster's life as payment.
Her mother's hands shook as she copied the ritual notes and gathered components. She prepared to cast something that would kill her slowly over the following months.
"Forgive me, my light." Lady Adrianne whispered to the empty study. "Forgive me for not being strong enough to find another way."
The vision showed her mother casting the spell alone in the middle of the night. Her face set with terrible determination even as tears streamed down her cheeks. The magic took hold and something inside her broke. Seraphina could see the moment her mother's life force began to drain.
Lady Adrianne steadied herself against the desk and finished the ritual. When it was done, she looked at her reflection in a darkened window. Already pale. Already dying.
"It's enough," she told herself firmly. "It has to be enough."
The vision shifted forward. Her mother growing weaker over the following weeks. Hiding it from her husband with careful cosmetics and forced smiles. Writing letters Seraphina would need later.
The regression spell waited dormant in her daughter's bloodline for the moment it would be needed.
The vision released Seraphina with brutal clarity.
Her mother hadn't chosen the easy path. She'd exhausted every possible alternative first. The regression spell was her last desperate option after everything else failed.
And it had cost her everything.
The vision changed again.
His plots were discovered. The traces back to him weren't perfect, but they were enough. Whispers in court grew too loud and investigations closed in.
She watched him get the news. She watched him think. Panic disappeared and calculation took over. He made his choice.
He would survive by sacrificing her.
The vision shifted to the moment after his plots were exposed.
No trial and no courtroom defense. Just fear.
The court feared her and what a Flamebearer could do. Alaric whispered the right words to the right people about mind magic, bewitchment, and control.
They didn't need proof because the accusation was enough.
Better to burn one woman immediately than risk being controlled by her power. Better to eliminate the threat before she could twist more minds.
The execution order came fast with no chance to defend herself and no time to gather allies.
Just chains and fire and Alaric's cold nod giving permission for her death.
The vision pulled her back to the pyre. Flames climbed higher and smoke got thicker.
She was dying. Her skin blistered. Her lungs couldn't get air. Her heart stuttered.
Her mother's voice cut through the fire.
It was soft and hurting but clear despite the flames and screaming crowds.
"My fierce girl. My light. I'm so sorry this falls to you."
The voice wrapped around her like a rope thrown across darkness.
"But you will rise from these ashes. You will have another chance. I promise you another breath."
The regression spell. Her mother died to power it, but the spell needed an anchor. This moment. Lady Adrianne's voice cutting through fire and pain became the thread pulling her daughter back through time.
"Make them remember what it means to cross a Flamebearer."
Seraphina gasped and her body slammed back into itself.
The carriage. The letter on the floor. Caelan's hands on her shoulders. His voice sounded distant even though he was right there.
"Seraphina. Look at me."
She couldn't and couldn't get air. The fire still felt real. Smoke still burned in her throat even though she was breathing clean air.
Her hands shook, so she grabbed the seat edge to steady them.
"What did you see?" Yona's voice stayed controlled, but the concern bled through anyway.
Seraphina opened her mouth and nothing came out at first. How could she explain? The pyre. Alaric's nod. Her mother's voice pulling her through death.
"The execution." The words scraped her throat raw. "I saw my execution. From the first timeline."
Silence crashed through the carriage.
"What?" Yona's control shattered. "What do you mean first timeline?"
Caelan's hands tightened on Seraphina's shoulders with immediate protective rage.
"You died?" Yona's voice rose. "You actually died and came back? How is that possible?"
"Regression magic." Seraphina forced the words out. "My mother cast it before she died. When they burned me, her spell pulled me back through time. Gave me another chance."
Yona stared at her and processed this. The woman she'd just begun serving had already lived through her own execution, had been betrayed and murdered and somehow returned.
"The research my mother gave you," Seraphina continued. "The documents about the Celestine awakening. She prepared all of it knowing I would need it after I regressed. She saw what was coming."
"Alaric?" His voice got quiet and dangerous.
"He knew." Her throat hurt despite never actually burning. "About the Celestine bloodline. Someone showed him. I couldn't see who. They gave him a crystal that showed him what I was and what I could become."
She made herself look at Caelan. "He married me to control that power. He planned to use my awakening to take the throne. When people discovered his conspiracy, he had me executed to save himself. He blamed mind magic and made me the monster so he could play victim."
Yona's expression went cold and sharp. "The letter?"
Seraphina picked it up. Her hands still shook. She forced her eyes to focus on her mother's writing again.
The letter continued:
Years ago, I had a vision. Not the vague impressions I usually received, but crystal clear prophecy. I saw you betrayed by the man you would marry. Saw you accused of crimes you didn't commit. Saw you burning on a pyre while nobles cheered.
I tried to find another way to prevent it.
There was none. The future was fixed. You would die.
So I changed what came after. The regression spell required a life. Mine. Given willingly. I traded my remaining years to pull you back through time when the flames took you.
Something broke in me after the ritual. The healers couldn't fix it. They said my body gave out months later. The truth is simpler. I chose to die so you could live twice. So you could have the knowledge and strength to survive what I couldn't prevent.
Your father never knew. I told him my magic faded as my health declined. He believed me because he loved me. I let him believe it because protecting you mattered more.
Tears made the words blur. Seraphina pressed her hand against her eyes.
I tied the regression spell to my voice. To the moment you would need it most. When fire took you, my words would pull you back. I made myself your anchor across death and time.
The documents in the chest explain our Celestine heritage. Every Flamebearer in our line paid a price. Some gave their bonds. Some gave their lives. Some gave both. What they took from us couldn't destroy us.
You are the realm's cosmic anchor, my darling girl. When the Flamebearer bloodline gets suppressed or stays incomplete, reality becomes unstable. The demon incursions at the borders aren't random. They are consequences. The realm responding to imbalance created by generations of forced silence.
You must complete what I delayed. Not for the realm that failed us or the nobles who let us burn, but because you are the only one left who can.
I love you, my fierce girl. I am so proud of who you became. And I am sorry this burden falls to you.
Make them remember what it means to cross a Flamebearer.
Forever your mother,
Lady Adrianne Celestine D'Lorien
The carriage stopped.
Seraphina couldn't move. Her mother died because of her. Alaric used her. Executed her when his ambition failed.
"Seraphina." Caelan's hands cupped her face and turned her toward him. "We're at the estate."
She looked past him at D'Lorien's gates. She didn't have strength for this.
"I can't."
"You don't have to." His thumb brushed her cheek and caught wetness she didn't know was there. "Tell them you're unwell. We'll handle it."
She was a duchess. She survived an execution. She could survive this.
Seraphina pulled back and rebuilt her mask. She steadied her breathing through pure will.
"No." She straightened her spine. "I need to see the estate steward. We need to talk about next steps."
The mask held, but barely.
The estate steward met them in the main hall - elderly, efficient, and loyal to D'Lorien above all else. Seraphina moved through the courtesies on instinct while her mind stayed trapped between fire and truth.
When he finally left and promised to handle memorial preparations, she found herself alone in the corridor with Caelan and Yona.
The weight of everything pressed down. Her mother's sacrifice. Alaric's calculated betrayal. Evelyne's patient ambition. The execution she'd survived once but would never forget.
Caelan pulled her against his chest without words. His arms were solid when everything else felt like it was dissolving.
She could see it in his face… fierce protectiveness, rage at enemies he couldn't reach, grief that she carried this weight. The bond was gone, but she knew him well enough to read him without it.
"Your mother loved you," he said quietly. "Everything she did was to protect you."
"I know." The words hurt. "Knowing doesn't make it easier."
"It's not supposed to be easy." His hand cupped the back of her head. "You're allowed to grieve."
Grief was a luxury she couldn't afford yet.
"Tomorrow," she whispered. "Tomorrow we find out what else she left."
"Tomorrow," he agreed.
Tonight she would hold together through force of will.
Tomorrow she would face whatever truths her mother died to preserve.
And eventually, when she was strong enough, she would make Alaric pay for every calculated choice that led to her burning.
Her mother's voice echoed: Make them remember what it means to cross a Flamebearer.
She would.
She swore it on the ashes of her first life and her mother's sacrifice.
They would all remember.