The bell of Zoriath tolled at dusk , deep and mournful , as if the entire kingdom grieved in unison.
Upon the silked bed of royal palace lay a man who had once been its shield , its blade and it crown .Ray Throne , the Hero King , a lay gaunt and breathless , the fire of war long extinguished in his body through it still burned in his heart .
The great banners of Zoriath fluttered - outside , heavy with the crest of the lion -
The divine Mark he had borne since youth .
That golden lion had railed armies , broken sieges and forged place . But even the Lion's roar couldn't silence the whisper of death that crept into his lungs .
His generals had come . His knights knelt . His people had prayed. And now , at the end , the Hero King was left alone .
Ray exhaled slowly , his chest rattling.
So this is how it ends ?. Not to blade nor poison,but to sickness that eats away without honor. His lips curved faintly . Fitting.
A king who gave his life to battle has no grand death left , only quietly fading .
His vision blurred. The ceiling above melted with soft light . Then --
A voice , gentle as spring rain , filled the chamber .
" Ray Throne ..... Hero King , Child of the Lion . You reached the end of your path ."
The air shimmered . At the foot of his bed , woman draped with silver light . Her hair flowed like moonlight , her eyes deep as starlit skies . She was not mortal - she was something far greater .
Ray blinked once , then bowed his head despite his weakness . " Goddess..... Myril . ."
She smiled, sadness and affection mingling in her gaze . " Yes , It is I who granted you the Lion's Mark when you were but a boy . I watched you fight , bleed and rise above despair . You carried my blessing well . You carried it ....too well . "
Ray chuckled weakly . " Too well ? You sound as though I'm to blame for following your will . "
" I asked you to protect, not to burden yourself with every pain of your people. "
Myril eyes softened , " Even Gods weep for mortals who forget themselves . You lived as king , as a hero ....but never as Ray Throne ."
Her words pierced deeper than any sword . He fought every battle , signed every treaty ,
raised wall and guarded thrones. But when had he last laughed freely? When had he been just a ordinary man ?
Silence stretched untill his chest ached with the effort of breath . At last , Myril 's hand reached toward his head . " You have a final gift , Ray Throne. One final wish before your soul leaves this world. Tell me -- what does your heart long for ?
For the first time in years , Ray closed his eyes , not as a king but as a weary man . He thought of the sword he had picked up at twelve, the rush the battle when he was young , the dream of mastering the blade , not for battles or wars but for the joy of it . The dream had long been buried beneath crowns and duty .
He whispered , voice hoarsed but clear : " ... I wish .... to live again.
As a youth . Not as a King , Not as a Hero. I want to walk a path .. ...of the sword . To master it . To live freely without chains of throne and duty . "
The chamber stilled . The goddess regarded him in silence , then smiled softly .
" Such a simple wish ...yet so heavy with longing . "
Her hand touched his forehead . Warmth like sunlight poured through his body ,easing every ache , dissolving every scars.
" Very well . I , Myril , grant your final wish . You shall be reborn. A new childhood , a new life . No crown , No duty .... Only the chance to live as you choose ."
Ray's lips curved into a genuine smile for first time in decades. His eyes closed , and his final breath escaped like a sigh of relief.
Darkness embraced him . Then ---- light --
A shrill cry split the air .
Ray's eyes -- no his newborn eyes - fluttered open . His lungs burned with new breath , his tiny hands clenched tightly . He had been new born .
But something was wrong .
The room wasn't a palace chamber , but a humble birthing room of wooden walls .
Two face hovered over him -- not knights nor servants but a young man with gentle eyes . And a woman with warm tears streaming down her cheeks .
" It's a girl ..... " the midwife announced cheerfully .
Ray forze . A....what ?
The woman gathered him - her - into her arms . " Our little Reina " she whispered her trembling voice with love . " She's beautiful , Harold . "
The man laughed , brushing his rough hand against the baby's cheeks . " A fine daughter indeed . She'll grow strong , I can tell already."
Ray -- Now , Reina--- blinked , stunned . A girl ?
His last memory : the goddess smiling mischievously . You said reborn , not as who. Did you.... plan this , Myril ?
He wanted to curse , to demand answers - but when his tiny mouth opened , only soft wail come out . The young parents laughted through tears , holding her close , swaddling her in warmth he had never known.
The Hero King , who had died alone on a cold bed , was now cradled in love , kissed upon the forehead , and welcomed into life
not as a ruler , but as a child .
In that moment , as strange as it was , his heart softened .
Perhaps this .... is what I wished for .
Days turned into weeks , and Reina began her new life . She could not speak yet , nor wield a blade ,but she could feel the warmth in every embrace , hear laughter in every corner of the baron's household , and see love in her parent's eyes .
Memories of her past remained sharp - strategies of war , the weight of the throne ,
the loneliness of leadership . Yet when her mother sang to her --- or when her father lifted her above his shoulders , those memories seemed distant , almost unreal .
For the first time , Ray Throne -- Now , Reina Throne - was simply a child .
But in the quiet night , when the world stilled, a familiar presence flickered within her dreams.
The goddess Myril appeared once more , her silver hair flowing in the moonlit
dreamscape . She gazed at the child cradled
in starlight and smiled .
" Do you regret it already ,Ray Throne ? To be reborn not as a king , not as a man but as a daughter of a humble baron ? "
Reina unable to speak in dreams as an infant , could only glare up her with wide eyes.
Myril chuckled softly , covered her lips ." You ask for freedom . Freedom takes many forms. Perhaps as Reina , you will learn what it means to live not as a Hero ,but as yourself . "
She bent down , brushing her finger against Reina's brow . A faint golden glow flickered there, unseen by mortals.
" You are still my choose one . Your soul bound with my blessings . Whether you rise as a hero or remain hidden in shadows .....
That choice, this time will be yours. "
And just as quickly , the dream dissolved into warmth .
Reina's small hand twitched in her sleep, curling as though gripping a sword hilt .
Her parents unaware of the goddess's words
smiled at their slumbering daughter .
" She's strong , " her father whispered proudly . " She'll grow into something amazing. "
Her mother kissed her forehead . " No matter, what she becomes , she is ours daughter . And that is enough. "
The Hero King who once carried a kingdom alone ... now slept in a cradle of love.
And though he had no words yet in his heart Reina whispered
This time I will live not as Hero but .....as myself . This time ..... I will not be alone .