(Somewhere unknown)
"Arghhhhhhh."
She woke with a start, the sound tearing from deep inside her chest—half scream, half plea.
Darkness pressed in on all sides, thick and suffocating. No walls, no sky—just endless void.
Slowly, her senses sharpened. Pain curled through her limbs like cold fire. A heavy weight settled in her mind, fragments of memories flickering like broken flames.
Her breath came in ragged gasps. A circle of ancient runes pulsed dimly beneath her. She lay in the center, fingers twitching, breath catching. The silence returned—but now it listened.
"I... I am back! Finally!!"
And then, the memories of past came.
A name. A face.
Evandriel Valeor.
It felt like a pull, a tether snapping taut inside her soul.
She opened her eyes.
A dark smile appeared on her lips as a single thought took hold, sharp and relentless:
A second chance to reclaim what was hers.
Her eyes opened, sharp and glowing faintly in the dark. Not human. Not anymore.
The past had betrayed her. The world had put her on fire .
This time, she would burn it first.
This time… everything will go as it should.
-----------------------------------------------------
(POV - 3rd person)
(LOCATION - Valeor Houshold)
Inside a quiet room, a boy buried under a mess of sheets looked like he'd wrestled them in his sleep.
One arm dangled off the edge of the bed. His pillow was half on the floor, half crushed beneath his neck, and the thin blanket twisted around his legs like it had tried to strangle him in the night.
The morning air drifted in through the cracked window—cool, quiet, still.
Knock knock.
A light tapping at the door. Polite. Gentle.
A pause.
"Time to wake up," came a soft, feminine voice through the wood. "Breakfast's nearly ready."
No answer.
Knock knock.
A bit louder this time.
"You're not sleeping through again, are you?"
Still no movement. Just the faint rise and fall of the boy's chest as he sank deeper into the sheets, refusing reality.
Outside the door, silence stretched… then snapped.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
"Evandriel Valeor!"
The name cracked through the quiet like thunder. His body jolted upward in a full-body panic—arms flailing, blanket twisting around him like a trap—and a heartbeat later:
THUD.
He hit the floor.
"…I'm up," he croaked, buried somewhere in the wreckage of his blanket. "I'm—ow—awake."
There was a pause, then the soft sound of retreating footsteps.
The voice came again—sharper this time.
"You've overslept again. Honestly, one of these days I'll just pour water on you."
A breath. Then, a little softer:
"Come down and have breakfast before it gets cold. And check the mailbox while you're at it. I think somebody got a letter on their name".
"…Okay," he mumbled toward the door, though it was unlikely she heard it.
He rubbed his eyes, still feeling sleepy, and muttered under his breath,
"She can be scary sometimes…"
He rolled onto his back with a groan, the ceiling coming back into blurry focus.
Still half-asleep, he replayed her words in his head.
Check the mailbox…
Did she say something about a letter?
Did she say something about a letter?
His eyes narrowed faintly, the haze of sleep thinning just enough to spark a thought.
A letter? Addressed to me?
A slow pause.
Wait… no. It can't be—
(To be continued)