Water crashed around her ears. The surface broke above her, a distorted mirror of light and voices.
Water frothed where she had been, now only ripples.
"Acacia!" Sienna voice cracked, the cheer of moments ago, gone in an instant.
Begonia stood up in her boat, nearly tipping it. "She fell in!"
Dominic turned sharply, his oar skimming water in a wide arc as his eyes scanned the lake's surface.
But Seren was already moving.
He didn't speak. Didn't shout. Just threw off his coat with a single motion and dove cleanly into the water, quick as a blade slipping through silk.
A second later, a splash echoed behind him, Argan, not waiting for anyone to call his name, not even looking back.
For a beat, it was chaos. The boats rocked and shouted orders overlapped. Someone cried out to row closer. Sienna clutched the edge of her seat, frozen between panic and disbelief.
Astor feeling shocked, leaned out, squinting into the lake, nervously muttering under his breath, "Too deep…"
Begonia sat down again hands trembling over her lap.
The lake had gone still again.
Too still.
And Acacia was nowhere in sight.
Beneath the Surface
She sank fast, skirts dragging her down, hair floating like dark silk around her face.
Distant screams echoed, muffled now, her name bouncing through the water like a lost call:
"Acacia!", she couldn't answer.
She tried swimming upward but her arms failed against the weight of soaked fabric, and her body felt slow, too slow, as if the lake itself wanted to keep her.
Everything felt thick. Heavy. Like the past itself had caught her.
The rush of wind, the panicked voices, even the splash that swallowed her whole. Gone.
The world above shattered into silence.
Acacia drifted downward, the surface light stretching thin above her like gossamer threads. Bubbles curled around her skin as her limbs floated, suspended in the cold cradle of the lake. Time slowed, slowed until it felt unreal, like she was sinking into a memory.
And in the silence below, something broke open.
A flash.
A memory.
She saw a great hall, draped in midnight blue and silver, the floor gleaming like obsidian. A child stood at the top of wide steps, grey eyes uncertain, flanked by banners bearing the crest of a silver crown cradled by wings and flames.
Her chest ached. Her limbs refused to move. But more memories surged through her, the soft voice of a young girl brushing her hair, the cold hand of a woman fastening a pendant around her neck, a young boy with storm-grey eyes laughing as he shielded her from the rain.
A voice calling her Chrysanthia…
Tears blurred into lakewater.
She was sinking deeper. Deeper.
Wings unfurling behind the hourglass, encircled by a thorned crown, glowed like fire etched into steel. It pulsed, once, twice and her heart thudded in response.
Her eyes opened underwater. Through the blue gloom, something moved.
A figure, slicing through the water with powerful strokes.
Closer.
Closer.
The shape sharpened, a silhouette cutting through light and shadow. Not a memory. Real.
And it was swimming straight towards her.
Below the Surface – Seren
Seren's lungs burned, but he didn't care. He kicked harder, deeper, eyes flicking through the shifting blur of underwater gloom.
He saw her dress, white and trailing like a torn veil beneath her.
Her hair flowed like seaweed, and for a second, she looked… still. Unmoving.
No.
He surged forward, stretching his hand toward her. Too far. Too fast.
Something about the way she floated twisted his stomach, serene and lifeless. Like she belonged more to the depths than to the surface now.
But just as he reached for her, he saw something glow and her eyes opened and closed.
Not wide in fear. Not in shock. But with an eerie calm. Like she had seen something. Like she had remembered.
His fingers brushed her arm, cold, far too cold, and he pulled her close, wrapping one arm around her waist.
Another splash behind him. A flicker of movement. Argan.
Seren turned slightly, gesturing sharply. Up.
There wasn't time.
His legs kicked with renewed strength, dragging her toward the light above, toward the chaos waiting on the surface. Her pendant grazed his chest, unfamiliar and warm, and the look on her face lingered in his mind even as bubbles danced around them...
Like a girl who had returned from somewhere far older than memory.
Her body broke through the surface with a violent gasp.
Water burst from her lips mixing with the ragged breath that clawed into her lungs. Her fingers gripped at nothing, air, light, the tremble of life. The warmth of arms still anchored her, strong and steady, guiding her toward the boat.
Voices crashed around her. Distant at first. Then louder. Urgent.
"Acacia!"
"Get her up, careful"
"Here, give her room!"
Hands. So many hands. Tugging her into the boat, wrapping cloaks around her shoulders, cradling her head. Her vision blurred, sunlight splintered into a thousand shards across the lake. But her chest heaved with breath. With life.
She turned her head slightly. Seren knelt beside her, drenched, water dripping from his lashes. His jaw was tight, and his eyes..
They were locked on her. Searching. Relieved. Almost angry. But not at her.
Argan hovered close behind, equally soaked, his palm pressed flat against the floor of the boat to steady himself, though his eyes hadn't left her since she was pulled in.
Someone asked if she could hear them. She nodded. Barely.
But her mind wasn't fully here. Not yet.
Because even now, in the back of her skull, something still echoed:
The weight of a crown.
The ache of forgotten names.
And the whisper of a girl who once carried fire in her veins.
Chrysanthia.
The name burned softly at the edges of her thoughts. Not spoken aloud. Not remembered clearly. Just... felt.
Then it faded again.
Like a dream dissolving with the morning sun.
By the time they reached the shore, a small crowd had gathered, some from the nearby estate, others drawn by the commotion.
Dominic's horse was already being saddled. Irene stood by the path, cloak drawn tightly around her, face pale.
"Someone get the healer," Astor said, already dismounting.
Seren carried Acacia in his arms, though she insisted she could walk. He didn't respond.
Argan flanked them, silent. Unreadable. But his fists were clenched.
Acacia caught glimpses of it all, the blur of grass beneath their boots, the way the light danced strangely against the trees, the flicker of worry in Seren's eyes, even as he refused to meet hers for long.
But something had shifted. Beneath the surface and between them all.
And Acacia knew, this wasn't just about a fall into water.
It was something else.
Something awakening.
Something returning.