The battlefield smelled of ash and betrayal. Elara Veylin, once crowned Queen of the Moonlit Kingdom, stood surrounded by flames that licked the night sky. Her silver hair, once a symbol of hope, was matted with blood. She had fought for her people, sacrificed everything, and trusted the knight who now stood before her with a blade pressed against her chest.
"Why?" she whispered, her voice trembling as the steel pierced her heart.
The knight's eyes were cold. "Because loyalty is a luxury I cannot afford."
Darkness swallowed her. She expected oblivion, but instead, a strange warmth enveloped her. A voice echoed in the void: **"Your story is not yet finished. Rise again, Elara Veylin."**
When she opened her eyes, she was no longer on the battlefield. Instead, she lay in a soft bed, surrounded by shelves of books and the faint scent of ink. Her hands were smaller, her body younger. She stumbled to a mirror and gasped.
The reflection showed a girl of seventeen, with silver hair cascading like moonlight and violet eyes glowing faintly. She was no longer a queen but the daughter of a scholar in the peaceful city of Aurelith.
Confusion gripped her. Had the gods granted her a second chance? Or was this some cruel illusion?
Days passed, and Elara tried to adjust to her new life. Her father, gentle and kind, believed she was simply recovering from a fever. But Elara knew the truth: she carried the memories of a fallen queen, and destiny would not let her rest.
On her first day at the Academy of Aurelith, she felt the weight of eyes upon her. Whispers followed her silver hair, her unusual aura. And then, fate intervened.
She collided with a man whose presence seemed to bend the air around him. Tall, dark-haired, with eyes like molten gold, he was the kind of figure who belonged in legends, not classrooms.
"Watch where you're going," he said, his tone sharp but not cruel.
Elara's heart stuttered. His name was **Caelum Draven**, heir to the most powerful duke in the empire. Rumors whispered that he was cold, untouchable, and cursed. Yet when his gaze lingered on her, something flickered—recognition.
"Strange," Caelum murmured. "Your soul feels… familiar."
Elara froze. Could he sense her past? Or was destiny weaving their threads together once more?