Rara awoke to the sharp echoes of desperate cries—"Help!" "Please…" "No!"—pounding in her ears, each sound jagged and urgent. Her head throbbed, a dull ache that crept in and out of focus as she slowly propped herself up, squinting against the intense light surrounding her.
The acrid smell of smoke filled the air, suffocating and heavy, mingling with the faint scent of burning wood and oil. Her throat burned as she gasped for air, and she felt as though the heat itself were a living thing, pressing in from every direction.
Orange flames flickered wildly, casting eerie, dancing shadows that stretched across the walls of the palace. The fire was consuming everything in its path, and the crackling of burning wood seemed to drown out all else.
Panic set in as figures ran frantically, shouting orders and warnings. The sound of structures collapsing added to the chaotic symphony of destruction, and Rara felt her breath hitch.
"What's happening?" she murmured to herself, her voice barely a whisper amidst the chaos. She rubbed her eyes, trying to focus, but the blurry images only added to her confusion.
"Princess!"
The sudden shout pierced through her disoriented state. Rara turned toward the voice, her heart racing.
Derek, her bodyguard, appeared through the smoke. His face was grim, his eyes wide with urgent fear.
"Princess, we need to go!" he shouted, grabbing her arm. She recoiled, shaking her head, unable to fully process what was happening.
"Who are you? What's going on?" she asked, her voice trembling. Her body swayed, struggling to remain upright as the pain in her head intensified. She tried to make sense of the fragmented memories, but they seemed to slip away like sand through her fingers.
"I'm Derek, your bodyguard. The palace… it's under attack. It was set on fire during the party." His voice trembled with a mix of concern and disbelief. His brow furrowed as he watched her struggle to comprehend the situation.
The mention of Derek, the palace, the party—it all clicked in her mind. But it couldn't be real. This was a nightmare, a recurring one. How was she back here? Why couldn't she wake up?
She pinched her arm, half-expecting to feel the sharp sting of pain. But there was nothing. She wasn't dreaming, was she? She couldn't tell.
"I'm dreaming again," Rara whispered, her voice soft, hollow. She tried to close her eyes and fade back into the numbness of slumber. She couldn't face this again. Not now.
Her hand fell limply to her side, and her gaze lingered on the chaos unfolding before her. The flames reflected the weight of the sorrow in her heart. Everything was burning. Again.
"Princess! Watch out!"
Her eyes snapped wide open. The sharp warning came just in time as a blue-flamed sword sped toward her. Time seemed to slow, and she watched in horror as the sword flew toward her. But she couldn't move. The blade passed through her—cold, empty.
There was no pain.
Darkness crept in, stealing her vision. She felt her body give way to the void.
"My lady! Wake up!"
A voice sliced through the darkness, urgent, shaking her. Rara's eyes snapped open, heart pounding, as a figure loomed over her. The veiled woman's presence was unmistakable.
"Who are you? What's happening?" Rara asked, her voice strained as she looked up, rubbing her aching head. She tried to sit up, her vision still blurry from the dream—or was it real?
"The palace is under attack! We need to leave now!" the woman insisted, pulling Rara by the wrist. But Rara yanked her arm away, a strange indifference sweeping over her.
"This is just another dream," she murmured, almost to herself. "When will it stop?"
The woman hesitated, her frustration mounting. "Fine! Stay here and burn, then!" she spat, her voice shaking with something more than just anger. "I've done what Prince Xavier asked." She turned away sharply and slammed the door behind her.
Prince Xavier… burn…
Rara's heart skipped a beat. The mention of his name brought with it a cold realization. She wasn't dreaming. This was happening.
With a grunt of frustration, Rara punched the wall beside her, the pain snapping her out of her stupor.
"Ah! Damn it!" she yelled, more from anger than pain. Her knuckles throbbed, grounding her in the reality she could no longer deny.
She pushed herself to her feet, her legs weak beneath her, and rushed out of the door. The sound of fighting and clashing swords reached her ears. She ran, her mind spinning, and her heart thundering in her chest.
The palace was in chaos. The air was thick with smoke and heat as she darted between buildings, leaping from roof to roof with a speed that made her feel weightless. The flames spread relentlessly, devouring parts of the grand structure, and she could hear shouts and screams from below. The soldiers in black and blue uniforms fought against those in red and black, both sides clashing with brutal force.
Then, she saw him. Prince Xavier was engaged in battle with several red-clad soldiers. His movements were fluid, deadly. She felt an urge to jump down and assist, but something stopped her.
Prince Xavier's hand shot up. His expression was cold, merciless. Rara's breath caught in her throat as she watched him drive his hand through one soldier's chest, ripping out the heart with ease. The soldier crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
The other soldiers recoiled, shaken by his brutal strength, but it was too late. Prince Xavier moved between them with lethal precision, dispatching each soldier with terrifying swiftness. In mere minutes, a quarter of them had fallen. Blood stained the ground, bodies littering the area.
Rara's stomach churned as she watched him. This wasn't the man she knew. This was someone else—someone cold, unrecognizable.
"Ugh!"
Her attention snapped to another familiar voice. Prince Ariel, leaning heavily against a pillar. Blood dripped from his mouth, and his expression was one of pain.
Her heart froze when she saw the figure in front of him. The prince from Kaca's Kingdom—he was tall, imposing, his sword dripping with blood. It was clear that his weapon had already tasted Prince Ariel's life.
The man raised his sword, blue flames licking the edge. Rara's breath caught. The blue flame—it was magic. Prince Ariel couldn't survive that. He was human.
Fear gripped her chest. Her thoughts flashed back to the painful memory of that burning sword—her body consumed by flames. She couldn't let this happen again. Not to him.
"Prince Ariel!" she cried out, her voice a desperate plea, but it was too late.
The soldier flung his sword toward Prince Ariel, but before it could strike, the prince's soldiers moved in. With one powerful sweep, the sword tore through them, turning them to ash before they even touched the prince.
The air grew heavy, and Rara's fists clenched. Cold sweat soaked her skin. She could still hear her family's cries as fire consumed everything around them. The terror, the helplessness—it was too much.
Tears slipped down her cheeks. Why was this happening again? Why couldn't they leave her, leave her family alone?
"G-aaaaaaahhhhhh!!!"
The sky above seemed to collapse. A powerful storm brewed in the heavens, winds howling violently. The ground trembled, the palace crumbling under the force of the earthquake. Buildings collapsed, and the world seemed to shudder.
Rara stood, her form bathed in the swirling tornado around her, her eyes glowing with a blue intensity. The storm surged in response to her will.
Prince Xavier's heart hammered in his chest as he spotted her on the roof, surrounded by chaos. His eyes widened in fear.
"No!!!" he screamed, running toward her, panic evident in his voice.
Prince Ariel froze, his eyes widening in shock as he recognized her. "Noooo!!!" he cried out, but they were both too late.
In an instant, Rara vanished, reappearing before Prince Ariel just as the blue-flamed sword descended toward him.
Blood splattered from Rara's mouth as the sword pierced her stomach, the fiery blade sinking deep into her body. Her scream was silenced by the force of the strike.