It began little.
Finn would hum lullabies that no one in his village was familiar with. He would select flowers and arrange them in patterns that only royalty would be able to identify, such as an Emarin bloom surrounded by six thornless vines. House Valeon's royal sigil.
From the corner of their creaking cabin, Charlotte—no, Lina—observed him, her heart caught between a flutter and a hurt.
Finn said, "I had a dream again," one evening as they shared a crust of bread and looked up at the thatched roof.
"Another one?" Lina said, looking down.
"Mhm." He mindlessly rubbed his knee. "I was a prince. I had a sister who was both amusing and frightening. She instructed folks on what to do, and they always obeyed.
Lina was motionless.
Finn glanced up at her. "You were there."
Her stomach knotted.
"In the dream, you were my sister," he continued softly. You donned blue. And you made the stars blink when I got upset.
She faced away. She had a sore throat.
"He never smiled," he said drowsily. "You also had a knight."
However, he always supported you.
It seemed strange after the silence.
Lina had her first dream since dying that night.
Not the indistinct, disembodied, or half-formed recollections. This was genuine. Horrifyingly obvious.
Once more, she found herself in the palace's magnificent chamber.
Empty.
Velvet rugs were covered with dust. Sunlight filtered through shattered glass. Her portrait had been removed from above the throne, where it had formerly gleamed. The hooks were the only thing left.
Then she spotted them.
Mira stood vigil at the edge of the war table, clothed in complete mourning black. Still. Motionless.
Elias kneeling at Eladin's coronation, draped in gray that had seen battle.
Eladin, who is now twelve years old but still standing tall, grips the scepter with shaking hands.
In the dream, a nobleman murmured, "They claimed she was cursed."
"She was a shield," Elias said softly. "You'll see."
Charlotte viewed her burial.
A marble figure of a girl sitting with a book in her lap and a falcon on her shoulder. An inscription reads below it:
"Charlotte Valeon the Unrelenting: The First Flame."
A new city appeared in the distance beyond the mountains, its gates engraved with her name.
Charliath.
The gift of Eladin.
But what about the palace? Her relatives?
The Tower of Bells had been shut off to the Queen. Now she only sang lullabies. Some days she rejected food. She didn't talk to anybody.
The King roamed the corridors at night, forgetting Lottie was gone and calling out for her. He forgot his royal headgear and lost himself.
Charlotte screamed as she awoke.
Finn was already next to her.
He grasped her hand. "You also had a dream."
Her breath trembled.
"Right, we were there?" he remarked. "You were my sister."
She looked into his eyes and recognized him.
Finn is not the only one.
However, Eladin.
Eladin is soft-hearted and sharp-eyed. His brother. The shadow of her spirit.
Again.
Born again next to her.
And this time, she made a vow—
She refused to let him confront the world on his own.