Riven's POV
Darkness swallowed me the moment my body hit the floor.
Not the gentle kind of darkness that comes with sleep—
but the thick, suffocating kind that feels like sinking into cold water with no bottom.
For a while, there was nothing.
No sound.
No breath.
No heartbeat.
Then—
A sharp tug in my chest.
The curse.
It writhed inside me like a parasite, clawing at my veins, trying to anchor itself deeper. If it succeeded… I knew even I wouldn't survive.
"Relax."
A voice echoed from somewhere above me—smooth, ancient, and amused.
Morrivayne.
Her silhouette materialized out of the darkness, fiery red hair glowing like embers, horns curving beautifully from her head, her crimson eyes slicing through the void.
She looked… irritated.
"You took in a cursed heart and thought you could just… nap through it?" she said, crossing her arms.
Her shadowy form knelt beside my collapsed consciousness. "Honestly, girl."
I exhaled shakily.
"Just shut up and help me."
She smirked. "Gladly."
With a sweep of her hand, chains made of black smoke wrapped around the curse inside me, restraining it as it thrashed like a furious beast. The pain twisted through my chest, sharp and burning.
I groaned, clutching my nonexistent ribs.
Morrivayne clicked her tongue.
"Stop whining. You pulled out a centuries-old curse. Of course it's going to bite back."
She tightened her grip on the chains, snapping one of the curse's tendrils clean in half. The darkness screeched.
Then her eyes narrowed on me—curious, calculating.
"Now," she said, "something's been bothering me."
Her head tilted. "How did you know you wouldn't die from this? Hmm?"
I met her gaze.
"You acted too confidently," she continued. "As if you knew the outcome."
I sighed.
"No point hiding it from you."
Morrivayne leaned closer.
"I copied an ability," I said quietly. "Years ago. From a wandering witch I met during my travels."
Her brows lifted. "And what exactly did you copy?"
"The ability to see my own path. My own future."
I can't use it whenever I want, and it requires a lot of magical energy; and I can only see one minute of my future.
Her expression sharpened—not with surprise, but admiration.
"A rare talent," she murmured. "And dangerous."
"I know." But it's dangerous
"That's why I only use it when necessary." I looked away. "I saw this moment already. I knew I'd survive. Barely" and It's a limited-use ; I can only use it three times. I only have one more left.
Morrivayne studied me for a few silent moments, then finally nodded.
"Very well. That answers that."
She rose, the darkness swirling around her legs. "I'll remove the curse from your system. Slowly. Carefully. But once I'm done…"
Her grin widened.
"I'm leaving your mind. Someone needs to guard your body while you're lying there helpless."
I rolled my eyes.
"Don't let anyone see you."
She laughed softly, already fading into smoke.
"My dear, I am a demon witch bound to your soul. No one sees me unless I wish it."
The darkness closed around me again—
but now… it shifted.
Warmth seeped in, unexpected and soft.
A memory.
No—
a nightmare.
"Riven."
A voice I hadn't heard since my death in the previous world.
Liz.
Suddenly I was standing in the alleyway where everything went wrong.
The smell of iron.
The cold pavement beneath my knees.
"Liz!" I cried, reaching toward her.
She turned to me with that same bright smile—the smile she had given me seconds before she died.
But this time… her smile faded.
Her eyes widened in terror.
"Run."
The sound of the blade slicing through the air.
The scream.
The collapse.
"LIZ!!"
I reached for her, but the world ripped itself apart before I could touch her.
My own scream dragged me upward—
out of the darkness—
into light.
My body jolted upright, lungs burning as I shouted—
"LIZ!"
Silence.
My chest heaved. Sweat clung to my skin. Every muscle trembled.
Three days.
That's how long I'd been unconscious.
I could feel it.
The curse was gone—burned out, erased by Morrivayne's effort and my own stubbornness. But the exhaustion lingered like a heavy blanket.
As my vision cleared, I realized—
This wasn't my room.
Luxurious drapes.
A polished wooden floor.
A warm breeze carrying the scent of royal incense.
I frowned.
"…The palace?"
Then I noticed someone.
Sitting quietly in a chair beside the bed, hands folded in her lap, her silver hair falling over her shoulder—
The princess.
Lyria.
Her eyes were slightly red, as if she hadn't slept either. She stared at me with a mixture of relief, worry, and something softer… something fragile.
When she saw me awake, she stood abruptly.
"Riven !" she breathed. "You're finally awake…"
I blinked at her, still dazed and trying to steady my breathing.
Of all the faces in this world…
hers was the first I saw upon waking.
And for some reason—
my heart didn't hurt anymore.
It felt warm.
Alive.