Chapter 1 – Rebirth in Shadows
Page 1 (Part 1/4)
The end of her life came suddenly.
Seraphine Vale had never been the sort of woman who expected a gentle death. In her first life, she had been sharp-tongued, ambitious, and utterly unwilling to settle for less than everything she desired. She schemed, she betrayed, she climbed over the backs of others without a second thought. She had been called a villain more than once — and she hadn't cared.
But villains don't often get happy endings.
One night, a knife slid between her ribs during what should have been a simple deal. She collapsed in a dark alley, breath rattling in her throat, blood staining her silk blouse. She had laughed bitterly through the pain, amused that betrayal was the last thing she would taste.
Then — nothing.
Or rather, not nothing.
When her eyes opened again, she wasn't lying in that filthy alley. She was floating in a vast, endless void. Starlight burned faintly overhead, though there was no sky, no ground, only shifting darkness beneath her feet.
And before her stood a man.
No — not a man. His form flickered, unstable, as though reality itself couldn't decide what he should look like. One moment he appeared ancient and regal, the next, careless and slouched in a gaudy suit. His smile was wide, lazy, and just a little cruel.
"Well, well," the figure drawled, his voice echoing through the void like a hundred whispers layered together. "Another little human snuffed out too early. You mortals do die so easily."
Seraphine, ever composed, forced herself to stand tall. "Am I in hell?" she asked flatly.
The godlike figure chuckled. "Not yet. Call me… an administrator, if you like. A god, if that's easier for your little mind to digest. You died, yes. But I'm feeling generous. Bored, even." His grin widened. "So, how would you like a second chance?"
Her brow arched. "You're offering reincarnation."
"Sharp one," he said approvingly. "Yes. But not just any old start-over. I'll toss you into a new world, give you a gift — a power. Do with it what you will. You want redemption? Take it. You want destruction? That's fun too. I don't care. Entertain me."
Seraphine's lips curled slowly into a smile. "And the catch?"
He barked a laugh, the sound splitting into echoes that bounced through the void. "You think like a proper schemer. Good. The catch is… well, let's say powers like the one I'm offering burn bright but leave cracks behind. Abuse it too much, and you might find yourself unraveling. But you? You seem like the type who enjoys walking on broken glass."
He reached out, pressing a flickering hand against her chest. A cold fire spread through her veins, and Seraphine gasped as shadows coiled beneath her skin. Whispered voices filled her mind, not her own, but pliant, obedient. She could feel them — the fragile threads of human will, waiting to be plucked like strings on an instrument.
"This," the god said softly, "is the power of influence. Not mere suggestion. Not parlor tricks. You'll be able to bend crowds, sway friends against each other, command devotion with a smile. Kings have ruled nations with less."
Seraphine's pulse quickened. In her old life, she had clawed for power, always reaching, always falling short because others had what she didn't. Wealth, armies, loyal followers. Now? Now all of that could be hers with a single thought.
"I accept," she whispered.
"Of course you do," the god murmured with a smirk. "Run along, little puppet mistress. Make the world dance for me."
The void collapsed.
Seraphine gasped awake.
She lay sprawled on a neatly trimmed patch of grass, the scent of asphalt and exhaust filling her nose. Blinking, she pushed herself upright, disoriented. Around her rose buildings of brick and glass, a quiet suburban street lined with trees. Students in uniforms milled past, laughing, chattering, backpacks slung over their shoulders.
Arcadia Oaks.
The knowledge slid into her mind as though it had always been there. A town brimming with hidden wonders — trolls, amulets, chosen heroes. And somewhere in this town was the Trollhunter.
A slow smile crept across her lips.
Perfect.
She smoothed down her new uniform — crisp blazer, skirt, blouse, all unfamiliar yet fitting her body as though tailored. Her reflection in a nearby window startled her for a moment: a new face, softer, younger than her old one. Dark hair framed her sharp green eyes, and there was an elegance about her posture that hadn't faded even through reincarnation.
She was Seraphine Vale still, in spirit if not in body. And this time, the world would not deny her.
"Hey, you new here?"
The voice pulled her from her thoughts. Two students approached — a girl with frizzy blonde curls and a boy juggling a soccer ball between his knees. Their gazes lingered on her, curiosity clear.
Seraphine blinked once, then let her lips curve into a warm, inviting smile. "Yes. I just transferred. Seraphine." Her voice dripped honey.
The girl beamed. "I'm Megan. That's Connor. Welcome to Arcadia Oaks High!"
Connor nodded politely. "Need help finding your classes?"
Seraphine tilted her head slightly, focusing. She reached inward, brushing the threads she had felt earlier. Whispers stirred — their wills, delicate, waiting. She plucked, gently, like a harpist touching a single string.
Both Megan and Connor's eyes softened at once. Their smiles brightened, their postures leaning subtly toward her.
"Yes," Seraphine said sweetly, though her mind was cold and sharp beneath the mask. "I'd love that. You're both so kind."
Megan flushed pink. "Oh, it's nothing! Really, we're happy to help."
Connor dropped his soccer ball, fumbling to scoop it up as if embarrassed. "Yeah, no problem. You can sit with us at lunch if you want."
Inside, Seraphine laughed. So easy. A simple tug, and they were eager, devoted little allies. She wondered what else she could make them do. Spill secrets? Start fights? Betray each other?
She resisted the urge. No, not yet. Best to start small. A predator did not bare its fangs too soon.
"Lunch sounds perfect," she said, her smile dazzling. "Thank you both."
Megan practically glowed.
Connor scratched the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly.
Seraphine walked between them as they guided her toward the school, every step measured, every expression carefully crafted. On the outside, she was nothing more than the friendly new transfer. Inside, she was already spinning threads of control, savoring the taste of their pliant minds.
Arcadia Oaks would never know what hit it.