Chapter 62: A Future Rewritten

  Light swallowed them the moment Lily activated the circle. Space folded in on itself with a clean snap, and a heartbeat later she and Tessa reappeared on the glittering sigils of the teleportation circle in the suite Lily had rented above the inn.

  The room was dark. The blinds were still drawn, and the air carried the faint scent of old wood and stale incense. Nothing had been touched since yesterday. The silence told Lily more than she wanted to admit.

  Adjusting her coat as she stepped off the platform, Lily murmured to Tessa, “Come,” and together they crossed the quiet suite and moved into the hallway.

  The inn was completely still, with no footsteps echoing through the corridors and no voices drifting from behind the doors. There was also no clatter of pans from the kitchen downstairs. The lantern crystals lining the hall remained unlit, so almost no light touched the interior at all, which was not a problem for Lily or Tessa, yet the absence of illumination wrapped the place in an abandoned kind of silence that settled strangely in Lily’s chest. It was morning outside, but inside the inn everything felt paused, as if the building had somehow been left behind by the rest of the world.

  They walked down the long hallway toward the stairwell, and Lily found herself glancing at Tessa more than once. The girl moved quietly, her steps careful, as if she expected someone to step out from behind a door at any moment. Her white hair, loosely falling around her shoulders, framed her face in a way that softened her features. And her eyes, although still a striking ruby red, looked far more human again.

  Lily had realized, it wasn’t just her imagination. She had noticed it earlier in the mansion, and seeing it now only confirmed it. Tessa looked softer and smaller, almost delicate in a way she had not been before. And so fragile… Lily still did not know how old Tessa really was, but the first time she had seen her behind the counter, she would have guessed sixteen, and after the transformation she somehow looked even younger, like the world had peeled away everything but the most vulnerable parts of her.

  And Lily hated that feeling. She was afraid she had already traumatized the girl yesterday for life. The thought made her jaw tighten, because it kept circling back in her mind every time she looked at Tessa’s smaller, softer form. She hesitated before saying anything at all, unsure how to approach her without causing more harm as they wandered through the inn—Tessas old workplace.

  But she needed answers. Lily was, after all, also her new master. She had chosen to take responsibility for her, and so she needed to understand how much of her old life Tessa still remembered, since she had given the impression yesterday that everything before the transformation was difficult to grasp for her. And now, seeing her so much more human-like again, Lily felt the need for clarity tightening in her chest.

  Yet pushing Tessa carelessly felt wrong. So Lily forced herself to move with care, choosing her moment slowly instead of cutting straight into the questions she wanted to ask.

  Still, she had to start somewhere.

  They reached the base of the stairs, and Lily turned toward her.

  “…It seems,” she began slowly, “that since you and your boss aren’t around anymore, no one is leading this inn.” She gestured lightly around them. “I would hate to leave the place and my suite, so I need to know if you have any idea who owns the inn now. Or who will run it in the future. I mean… after…”

  She didn’t finish the sentence.

  Tessa stopped beside her, shoulders tensing. Her tired eyes wandered across the empty entrance hall, and for a moment Lily thought she would break down. But she didn’t. She inhaled and answered with a quiet steadiness that made something in Lily’s chest tighten.

  “No. The superior officer in charge had no family,” Tessa said. “He tried to find a wife these past months. He went on a few blind dates, but it never worked out.” She sighed softly. “And since the inn was shut down yesterday by the city guard, after they found him when we left… I think it goes to the administration of the city.”

  Lily’s thoughts flickered in a direction she instantly disliked.

  And since the city is mine now… would it be completely insane if I just claimed the inn because I don’t want to lose my suite? That sounds absolutely macabre. And also weird. And also complicated. And also… who would maintain it? Not me. Definitely not me…

  But Lily pushed the thought aside for now. Tessa mattered more. Instead, she stepped closer and met her gaze directly, letting her own expression soften.

  “Tessa,” she said quietly, “are you feeling well? It feels like you’re more like the girl I met behind the counter that first day. Not the girl from yesterday in the forest. If anything bothers you, you can tell me, alright? I know it’s been hard.”

  Tessa blinked, startled at first, then her lips trembled with something between gratitude and fear. She nodded slowly.

  “Thanks… Lady—” She winced. “Sorry. Hard to change habits. Thanks, Lilithia.”

  She paused, searching for her words. When her voice came again, it was softer, roughened by exhaustion.

  “But please don’t feel responsible for everything. Maybe nothing would have happened if you never came to the inn, but…” Her smile was small and weak, and her little fangs showed when she tried to steady herself. “I know it’s strange for someone like you. A princess. Someone strong. Someone not born like us…”

  Lily opened her mouth to protest, but Tessa kept speaking, her voice drifting like she was reciting a truth she had carried her whole life.

  “I was already blessed to work here,” she murmured. “The boss was a good man. But ordinary people… we can’t change the world. We’re always the bottom of everything. We kneel for nobles, or adventurers, or mages, or bandits, or anyone with a higher level. And the higher the level, the more we become… cattle.” She swallowed hard. “I was lucky to live in the city. Privileged, even. But my mother, my family, my friends, my—”

  Her voice fractured. A tear slipped from one ruby eye.

  Lily reacted before thinking. She reached up and brushed the tear away with her thumb. The girl’s lips trembled as she tried to hold the rest back.

  “It’s fine,” Lily said softly. She offered a small, tired smile. “The world is unfair. But when the world is unfair to you, you’re completely allowed to be unfair to it right back. That’s the rule.”

  Tessa let out a thin breath that sounded almost like a laugh. Her shoulders loosened just a little.

  Lily let her hand rest a moment longer on her cheek, grounding both of them, before lowering it.

  “Come on,” she said. “We have a long day ahead of us.”

  Tessa nodded quietly and followed Lily out of the inn. Their first stop was the town hall. The main street where the inn stood had already begun to wake, with merchants opening shutters and early workers moving about with baskets and tools. The quiet hum of morning business rolled through the road, yet Lily felt oddly distant from it. Luckily, they only needed to walk the long street down toward the Government Square. It was roughly a fifteen-minute walk, and the calm rhythm of their steps gave her time to think.

  Lily walked beside Tessa, and her thoughts drifted back to what the girl had said inside the inn. It was difficult for Lily to imagine what life in this world would be like if she had actually been born here. She had entered this world already strong, inside her own game avatar. And even if she had lived here a long time ago in another life, this world still felt more like the game she had played most of her life back on Earth.

  Tessa’s quiet voice from earlier echoed faintly in her mind, words about powerless ordinary folk who had to kneel for everyone with higher levels. Words about families who lived at the mercy of whims and dangers they could not defend themselves against.

  Maybe I am completely out of touch with what ordinary people deal with here…

  Lily could not imagine growing up in a world that reflected the cruelties of Earth’s old Middle Ages, and then added the possibility that a single high-level mage or warrior could kill you on a whim. The fact that something resembling a functional society existed at all was a small miracle. Not everyone could be a fighter or a mage; someone still needed to grow food, run shops, and keep towns alive.

  Her thoughts drifted as they approached Government Square. The buildings there rose tall and proud, the square itself wide and still somewhat tense after yesterday’s events. She glanced at the large flagpole, where a massive banner of the Xares Empire now unfurled in the wind. It hadn’t been there when she left yesterday.

  Huh, where did they get the flag from? Lily asked herself, but she had no real answer. She could only guess that one of the nobles she had acquired had felt the need to raise it.

  In front of the town hall, two guards stood watch. One of them straightened immediately when he spotted them and stepped forward with clear intent to intercept, but the second grabbed his shoulder and murmured something quickly. Both guards bowed in the next breath.

  “You must be Lady Greenwood,” the older guard said. “Our apologies. You were already announced.”

  Ah right. Elven form, Lily realized. She kept her expression calm and answered simply, “It’s fine.”

  She guided Tessa with her inside the town hall. She knew the layout well enough after spending half of yesterday in the mayor’s office, managing the city with her newly appointed nobles while staying in her true form.

  Tessa followed close behind, quiet, but her mood was already better after the walk. Lily could feel it, and the girl was attentive as Lily pushed open the inner doors and stepped into the administrative halls to begin the next ordeal of the day.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  ???

  Nathanel followed Gideon through the entrance hall of the town hall, still trying to adjust to the fact that only an hour ago he had been locked inside a cold stone cell, convinced his life in Tiara was over. The contrast was almost dizzying. Now he was walking beside his old friend Gideon Vexley, a respected noble, toward a reception room filled with voices and the faint hum of excitement.

  They turned the corner, and the room opened before them. The members of the Noble Connoisseurs stood inside, gathered near the long table by the windows. They wore their usual fine coats and tailored dresses, yet Nathanel sensed a different energy in the air. It was sharper and more focused than the usual leisurely atmosphere of their meetings. When Gideon stepped in with Nathanel beside him, several heads turned at once.

  “By the gods, Nathanel,” Lord Halford said as he crossed the room quickly. “It is good to see you on your feet.” His eyes lingered a bit too long on Nathanel’s face, scanning the burned skin.

  “Truly good to see you alive,” Baroness Meriel added, giving him a firm nod. “We heard the Inquisition took you in. We feared the worst. I hope you’re fine.”

  A few others voiced their relief as well, some shaking his hand, others clapping him on the shoulder. Their reactions stunned him for a moment. He had not expected warmth. Not today, not from nobles who usually weighed every interaction for personal gain. But there was sincerity in their eyes, and the realization softened something in his chest.

  They truly thought I was gone.

  Nathanel forced a steady breath and managed a small smile. “I am glad to see all of you too, and apparently I missed more in one day than most people do in a lifetime.”

  Halford laughed under his breath. “You can say that again, my friend. We want to hear your version soon, but that will have to wait.”

  Nathanel frowned slightly. “What are all of you doing here at this hour? And why so many?”

  Gideon stepped in smoothly. “Everyone is waiting for Lady Greenwood. She is the Princess’s representative in Tiara.”

  Lady Greenwood… He tried to dig in his mind, searching for anything from the day before yesterday, but only fog answered him. He cursed silently. Damn this hole in my memory. I hope I didn’t make a bad impression when I met her—and that she doesn’t start a conversation I’ve already forgotten…

  Gideon continued before he could ask. “You already know Tiara belongs to the Xares Empire now. The Princess reclaimed the city yesterday. These nobles pledged their loyalty, and Lady Greenwood is handling the administrative transition today.” His tone turned ominous. “And everyone is waiting for their payment…”

  The nobles nodded at that, somehow pride flickering in their expressions. Some looked eager, others a little nervous. Nathanel swallowed once, trying to make sense of how quickly everything had shifted.

  “And,” Gideon added, lowering his voice slightly, “you should know the reason I brought you here today is that your connections will bring you into this new start.” Gideon took out his flask and took a sip. “Nathan, you’ve built your life around this circle. The Salon respects you, and half the nobles in this room owe you favors from deals over the years. You’re not one of us by blood, but you belong here far more than many who inherited their titles.”

  Nathanel blinked uncertainly. “I didn’t expect that to matter.”

  “It matters a great deal,” Meriel said with a warm smile. “You have rare knowledge and skills. You handled relics and artifacts longer than most of us have even studied them. And you are organized, practical, and good with numbers. That is exactly what the new administration will need.”

  Halford nodded as well. “The Princess is forming her government. Gideon believes you would fit in well, and I agree. Not as a noble perhaps, but as someone the nobility relies on.”

  A strange feeling crept slowly through Nathanel. It was not fear, nor was it relief. It felt more like a thin thread of hope, quiet but persistent. For fifteen years he had kept his life stable by hiding from the Church and staying useful in Tiara. And the gods knew he wasn’t always a good person, but he had never broken his word. If he gave it, he stayed loyal to it, and it was paying off now. Now he stood at the edge of something entirely new, something that could erase the shadow of Veythral from his back forever.

  “I don’t know if I am suited for government,” Nathanel admitted quietly. “I spent my life avoiding politics.”

  Gideon chuckled. “And that makes you more suited than half the officials I’ve met. I worked with the Princess for half of yesterday to reorganize the city, and I can tell you she values competence. You survived as an auctioneer in Tiara—the Pearl of the North, home to one of the biggest auction halls around—and you clawed your way up in society. You fit quite well. And don’t forget: we always return a favor.”

  Nathanel looked around the room while the nobles settled into seats, speaking in low tones as their attention drifted again and again toward the door. They were waiting for something important, anticipating the next development, and hoping to be among the first to benefit from whatever came next.

  While everyone drifted into conversation, he walked toward a wine carafe on a side table and poured himself a glass. His hands were still trembling faintly from hunger and nerves, and he tried to hide it as he lifted the drink. He downed it in one swallow, the warmth settling heavily in his empty stomach.

  Gideon let out a low chuckle beside him. “Sorry, Nath. I forgot you must be half-dead from thirst after your little vacation in that cell.”

  Nathanel snorted and poured another glass, this one slower. “It’s fine. I am just glad everything somehow turned out… well, not good, but not fatal.” He took a longer sip this time. “Which is an improvement.”

  He had just begun to feel the edge come off his frayed nerves when the door opened. A young page stepped inside and bowed quickly.

  “Lady Greenwood is ready to receive you.”

  A ripple moved through the nobles, an immediate shift from casual conversation to a collective sharpening of attention. Nathanel felt the flutter in his own stomach, a sensation that was entirely too close to excitement and dread mixed together.

  He stepped in behind Gideon as the nobles formed a polite procession toward the mayor’s office. He still had no image of Lady Greenwood in his mind. That entire day was lost to him. And because he could not remember meeting her, his curiosity stood on shaking legs.

  So, when they entered the office, he could not help the genuine shock that washed over him.

  An elf sat in the mayor’s tall chair, framed by the morning light falling across the mahogany desk. She was composed in a way that felt almost unreal, as if she were carved into the moment rather than seated in it. Her hair, like golden wheat, was braided loosely over one shoulder. Her eyes, an unnervingly clear emerald green, lifted toward the group with calm recognition. Her blouse and coat were elegant without excess, the green and gold tones harmonizing with the faint natural aura elves were known for.

  But the part that unsettled him wasn’t her beauty. It was the presence. Something about her felt… strange, weighty in a subtle way that made his instincts straighten like soldiers at attention. She looked graceful, yes, but there was also a quiet sharpness in her posture that made him rethink approaching too casually.

  Beside her stood a young woman, or perhaps a girl, he was not entirely sure, which only added to his confusion. She had white hair that fell softly to her shoulders, and her posture was careful, as though she was trying to take up as little space as possible. A black dress with red embroidery fit her well, accented by a dark coat closed with silver clasps. And when she glanced toward the nobles, Nathanel caught the flash of red in her eyes, deeper than rubies and far less comforting.

  His heart stumbled for a beat. That girl…

  Nathanel had lived long enough in Veythral—too long, if anyone asked him—and even though he despised every memory of that place, he could still rely on the grim education it had forced into him. Some lessons never left you, no matter how hard you tried to drink them away.

  And the moment his eyes settled on the girl beside the elf, those old instincts stirred like cold water down his spine.

  She was undead.

  Not the shambling kind the lower priests used as examples, and not the feral kind that roamed through cursed ruins. She belonged to a different category altogether. Something refined and composed, shaped rather than twisted. An undead being with enough rank or power to hold herself as if she were almost alive, steady on her feet, and entirely unbothered by the sunlight pouring across her shoulders.

  A high-ranking variant, he realized. Her skin was pale but not corpselike, her features close enough to human that someone untrained might not notice the difference. Only the unnatural ruby eyes, the white hair, and the faint black tint to her nails gave her away. And she stood directly in front of a wide window, the sunlight pouring over her as though it meant nothing.

  That alone made his throat tighten.

  What in all forgotten hells is she? And why is she here… with an elf?

  The whole scene was absurd. Elves and undead did not stand side by side. They did not share rooms. They did not appear calm in each other’s presence. And yet here they were: the elegant elven merchant seated behind the mayor’s desk as if she owned the place, and the undead girl positioned beside her like an attendant or a guard.

  Nathanel swallowed hard. Every instinct he had told him this was far beyond anything he wanted to be involved in. Too late now, he thought grimly. He was already inside the room with the nobles, already walking into whatever fate Gideon had cheerfully dragged him toward.

  He glanced toward Gideon, silently begging the man to give him some small sign that this was not as insane as it looked. But Gideon’s expression was steady, almost confident. As if this was exactly what he expected. As if he trusted Lady Greenwood completely.

  Nathanel resisted the urge to grab him by the collar and shake some sanity into him. What did I miss in those damned thirty hours…?

  When everyone stood gathered before the massive mahogany desk, the elf’s gaze swept over them in a slow pass. Her eyes lingered on each noble for a heartbeat, weighing them with the same quiet authority she carried in every movement. Then her gaze reached Nathanel.

  And stopped.

  Not for a fleeting second, but long enough that even he felt it. Her emerald eyes narrowed just slightly, studying him with an intent that made his breath catch. It was not suspicion, nor disdain. It was recognition.

  Recognition he didn’t share.

  A cold ripple went through him as the realization settled. She knew him. Or at least she believed she did. And even though he could not remember a single moment from the hours before he woke inside that cursed summoning circle, she looked at him as if she had spoken to him, as if something significant had passed between them already. His stomach tightened, but just as quickly as the moment had come, it ended.

  The elf leaned back in the mayor’s chair with effortless poise, one hand resting lightly against the polished armrest. Then she lifted the other in a graceful motion, inviting them closer.

  “Let us begin,” she said. Her voice carried a clear, calm authority, the kind that did not need to be raised to fill a room. “Tiara stands at the edge of great change, and so do all of you. I am glad you are here. I believe I have met each one of you in your Salon already?”

  Most of the nobles nodded, offering polite murmurs of confirmation. Nathanel felt a muted sting of panic twist somewhere beneath his ribs. He must have met her too. He simply had no memories left to reach for.

  “Right,” she continued, her tone smoothing into something formal and concise. “So, in case anyone does not recall”—her eyes drifted back to him for a heartbeat, just long enough to make his throat tighten—“my name is Lysaria Greenwood. I am part of the guild Doomsday. Doomsday is one of the pillars of the Empire and holds a permanent seat in the Senate.”

  The nobles straightened a little at the weight of those words. Even Gideon inhaled quietly, not quite masking his interest.

  “In that role,” Lysaria went on, “I will assist you in organizing Tiara during the next days. There is much to do, and the Princess expects efficiency from all of us.”

  Nathanel felt the words settle around them like the beginning of a contract, something heavy and unmistakable that wrapped itself quietly around every person in the room. Expectations drifted through the air with her voice, followed closely by the quiet weight of responsibility and the promise of structure. It was the kind of authority that didn’t need sharp commands or raised tones, because it came from someone who didn’t question whether others would obey. It was simply assumed, woven into every syllable she spoke.

  “But before we begin with administration,” she said, her voice softening just slightly, “the Princess has given me another task.”

  She raised her hand over the mahogany desk. Mana shimmered at her fingertips, spreading outward in a thin veil that rippled like heat. And then, in small flashes of light, twelve distinct items materialized across the polished surface. Some glowed faintly, others pulsed with dormant enchantments, and a few radiated power so thick that even Nathanel felt the pressure of it on his skin.

  Gasps broke from several nobles. A few cursed softly in shock.

  Nathanel himself went completely still. Named items. All of them.

  His pulse thundered in his ears as he stared at the glimmering artifacts resting on the desk. The air seemed to thrum around them, vibrating with the old magic woven into each piece. If someone could pull out such treasures on a whim, he didn’t dare to imagine what else she was capable of. And in that moment, Nathanel knew his future was already being rewritten right in front of him. He would do everything to become part of this. Part of this new Empire that had decided to awaken while he had been only a few hours away.