I hate New York City
Its huge size always made a point of making me feel small and insignificant. The beautiful skyscrapers and the hustle and bustle of this city would continue with or without me. And that's what it was doing right now.
Sprawled out on the pavement, I was, as the paramedics affectionately called me, "an unresponsive young female with brown hair and a medium build." And yet, the world continued spinning.
How inconsiderate.
Police lights flashed, painting the pavement in red and blue. That's when I saw my injuries. My legs were twisted into a shape no legs should be in, and a jagged piece of car metal was stuck in my lower abdomen. Waves of nausea hit me with a strength that threatened to empty my stomach. My forgetfulness to eat lunch saved me today.
The world blurred at the edges—blood sugar, maybe. Or blood loss. Hard to tell. I missed the adrenaline I had five seconds ago. As if on cue, my eyes grew heavier, and my veins began to pump liquid fire through my limbs. Keeping my eyes open was a losing game.
Open. Close. Open. Close.
The world flickered like a dying lightbulb.
My brain reduced itself to the essentials: anxious thoughts and attempting to make blood flow. It didn't help that the hushed whispers around me were confirming my worst fears. This brunette Jane Doe wasn't going to make it to the hospital.
The realization settled in--I was forgettable. Even the driver who killed me didn't care enough to stop.
I flung my eyes open in protest.
This wasn't how I imagined dying. Not that I had thought about it much, but if I had, I would've assumed something more... cinematic. Something meaningful.
But this? A random hit-and-run on a Tuesday?
Pathetic.
I wasn't ready. I wasn't supposed to be here, on the cold pavement, feeling my body shut down. My hands twitched against the asphalt, but I barely felt them. The city lights blurred, shapes melting together like an oil painting.
Maybe if I just--
I inhaled sharply, my breath shallow, my thoughts frantic.
If there is a god, any god out there… I don't want to die.
Silence.
No miraculous light. No divine intervention. Just the cold pavement and the slow fading of my senses.
I swallowed hard, my throat burning.
Please
Stillness rushed in, swallowing my last thought whole.
I fell into a never-ending darkness. I tried once more to open my eyes, but they remained stubbornly closed. With nothing to do, I began to accept that I might never see sunlight again. Perhaps I was dead--or worse, blind. Regardless, as long as my brain worked, I was going to make the most of it.
Step one: Analyze everything, panic slightly, and then act like you've got this.
Now would be a great time for me to try and move around. I tried my limbs--nothing. Okay, so what was going on? Calling this state of being darkness felt like an oversimplification. I couldn't feel a bone in my body, nor would anything respond to my brain's signals for movement. It was as if I were floating in space. No light, no dark, just a whole lot of nothing. Trying to name the sensation only confused me more. Whatever this was, it was way out of my depth.
Still, I needed to look at the bright side of things. Such as the fact that if I didn't know where I was, there was no way my boss could either. That alone brought a mental grin to my lips. I guess I didn't need to fully grasp my situation to enjoy it. With that, my thoughts mellowed out, and for the first time in years, I relaxed.
This wasn't half bad. I should do this more often.
My relaxation was interrupted by the feeling of a cool surface touching my back. No--I wanted more time. But the feeling of calm faded in an instant, and the newfound darkness of my environment created an ominous mood.
I let out a sigh I didn't know I was holding in. Why couldn't the universe just let me be happy? I closed my eyes to think. I should figure out what the hell was going on.
Was everything I just experienced a dream?
I frowned. No, that couldn't be it. Everything had felt too real. Maybe the paramedics I was doubting earlier really did save my life. Still, if that were true, why did I feel so uneasy?
Perhaps it had something to do with how dark the room was. It was suspicious that there weren't any medical equipment lights. I felt around my arms, and sure enough, there were no IVs. I wasn't even in much pain. I needed to figure out what was going on.
Creak
A shadow flickered in the archway of a metal door, the glow of candlelight outlining the silhouette of a woman. She looked like some kind of southern belle, her golden hair falling in soft waves over a long dress that swept past her ankles. She jumped at the sight of me.
Rude—if anything, I should be the shocked one here.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice inquisitive, but cautious.
"I don't typically make a habit of introducing myself to kidnappers," I replied, sharper than I intended.
"Kidnapper?" She blinked, taken aback. "No, the ritual should have only worked on someone who wanted it."
"Ritual?" I raised a brow. "You're not exactly helping your case here. Can you explain what's happening in terms I can understand? Am I dead, or…?"
I was met with a sigh of relief, "Oh, so you know you're dead." She nodded to herself, as if confirming a personal theory. "That makes things easier."
I shuddered as a chill ran down my spine. The memory of the car, the impact, the blood—it clawed at the edges of my mind, but I forced it away.
"Either that, or you're... a witch of some kind?" I squinted at her, trying to make out her features. Her face twitched, a flash of something like disgust before she smoothed it over.
"I wouldn't say that was a bad guess," she admitted. "Not accurate, but not bad."
"Ah I've got it. I died so you're my guardian angel. Right? That's how these things work?"
She tilted her head slightly before smiling. "Angel… I like that much better."
"Well, while 'Angel' is adorable, I'd prefer to call you by a real name."
"My name?" She hesitated, eyes flickering toward the floor. "Angel's as good a name as any."
I stared at her, but it was clear she wasn't going to elaborate. With a sigh, I sat up slightly fighting the pillows.
"Fair enough. So, Angel, care to explain what's going on?"
Angel smoothed nonexistent wrinkles from her dress. "What do the people of your realm know about reincarnation?"
I frowned, my mind still sluggish from exhaustion. "Reincarnation—like Buddhism?" I searched my brain for anything I remembered from high school cultural studies. Something about souls being reborn based on karma, good deeds, the whole cycle of samsara thing.
Angel's lips curved slightly, but her expression remained unreadable. "Buddhism…" she mused, rolling the word over her tongue like something foreign. "I am unfamiliar with this word. But in this particular case, reincarnation means that you have been summoned into another soul. And in your case, another realm."
I stiffened. Into another soul? That doesn't sound pleasant for the other soul involved.
"Into another soul—like another living soul?"
She hesitated just long enough for my stomach to unsettle itself. "I understand the confusion, and I was getting to that," she admitted. "There is no delicate way of putting this."
"Putting what?" My voice came out sharper than I expected. Something about her slight loss of composure made me lose mine.
"The one you are reincarnated into… they were still alive."
The room seemed to tilt. She paid the room no mind, continuing, "And the price for your living is, as all magic is, fair." She walked over to a cluster of unlit candles and flicked her fingers, flames sparking to life at their wicks. "You being summoned here means one thing—it means that the one whose body you have taken will, if they have not already, die as a result."
The words landed like a weight on my chest.
"No." My breath caught in my throat, "No, that can't be right." I gripped the pillow fabric beneath me, trying to ground myself. "Someone else—" My voice cracked. "Someone else died for me?"
I concluded the only sensible thing, "You've got the wrong person—"
"I assure you, I did not." She tilted her head, watching me carefully. "In your final moments, you prayed for another chance. And the gods heard your prayer."
My stomach twisted. No. No, that's not…
I didn't pray to kill someone. I prayed to live.
The car. The hit. The blood. I could still feel the impact if I thought too hard about it. It had to be a mistake.
Angel crouched down so that we were eye-level, her tone turning sickly sweet. "One goddess, in particular, sent me to fetch you. And might I say, Princess, you're lucky it was me." Her lips curled into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "There are far worse fates for souls from another realm."
"Souls?" I swallowed hard. "No. I have a body. I can feel it."
I wiggled my fingers as proof. It wasn't much, but even that little motion felt unnatural, like my limbs weren't quite mine. Goosebumps rose on my arms, and I rubbed them trying to chase away the feeling.
Angel exhaled through her nose, an almost pitying sound. "Not exactly. You're in an in-between state—my dreamscape. No one enters or leaves without my saying."
The room shifted, the air thickening around me like I was only now realizing that something about this place was off.
"Your soul didn't take well to the transition, but you'll adjust."
I ran a hand through my hair, my fingers threading through strands that felt... different.
This wasn't my body.
My breath came short, my pulse hammering. "This isn't my body…"
Angel met my gaze without flinching. "I could have sworn I warned you about the discomfort part."
I forced myself to sit up, locking eyes with her. "Did you kill someone? Whose body is this?"
She knelt, her cold, emotionless stare fixed on mine. "This is beyond your understanding, little mortal," she murmured. "Now, listen. You are to assume the role of Princess Amelia Delavue. A prominent ruler in the kingdom of Asteria."
I didn't reply. I just stared at her.
Angel took my silence as encouragement to continue. "Are you scared? Don't be. I'll be your loving maid, staying right by your side."
"I think that's exactly the part I'm most scared of."
"What was that?"
"Oh nothing... What exactly is your game miss Angel?" I demanded.
"Mortals are so cute." She reached out and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear like I was some doll she was dressing up. "What makes you think I would tell you?"
"Common decency—you quite literally stole me from my old realm."
"I wouldn't say decency is that common." She sighed, standing up again. "All I can reveal to you without risking my mistress's wrath is that if your identity is exposed, the people of this realm will kill you."
I blinked.
"Excuse me?"
"In a most gruesome way, too—think fire, nail-letting, genuine torture." Her eyes practically lit up as she spoke, which would have been cute if it weren't for the context.
"Yes, I get that—but why would they kill me? I'm a victim in all this."
"And how are they supposed to know that?"
I stared at her. "What do you mean by that?"
Angel smirked, pacing the length of the room. "People who can reincarnate are made up of many different races, but in this realm, they consider them one. From this day forth, you may look human, but in reality, you're an Incarnate."
My stomach twisted.
"Good to know that racism transfers to the fantasy realm," I muttered. "Was that all?"
"You aren't understanding…" Angel's voice took on a note of amusement. "In this realm, these people are hated. To be reincarnated, one must wish to be. So, in reality, they are actively choosing to kill someone for their selfish gain—well, I'm sure you can imagine how messy things can get."
I stared at her once more, my brain working overtime to process what she was saying.
If I wasn't mistaken, she had just told me that I needed to play the part of a royal in a world I knew nothing about.
I exhaled sharply, my head pounding. "How am I possibly supposed to pull this insane stunt off?"
"I already told you—" she was cut off by a knock on the metal door.
Her smug smile vanished instantly.
And like her smile, my stomach dropped.
"I thought you said that no one else could get into your dreamscape."
"No one else should be able to."
"Then—"
Angel grabbed my shoulders, and for the first time, her grip was desperate.
"We don't have time- you have to listen to me. Do you see the necklace around your neck?"
I blinked, only now becoming aware of the jade pendant hanging at my throat. I clutched it to confirm its existence.
"I'm not blind," I said flatly.
"Always keep it nearby. At all times." Her voice had lost its usual playfulness. "If not, I won't be able to find you."I nodded, because what else was I supposed to do? If what she said was true, I was in trouble without her help. However nefarious her intentions, she was my best bet at survival.
Angel let out a slow breath. "Good. I'm waking you up now."
"Wait a sec—"
She tapped my forehead, and everything turned black.
A moment later, I heard screams. I couldn't tell whose they were.
Then everything went silent.
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