Under the night sky, Rochelle remains awake in her room, hunched over her study table. "Hmm… Rochelle, if I recall correctly." She chuckles, reminiscing about a character from a novel she penned in her past life, a work she never titled, abandoning her dreams of becoming a novelist.
"Well, if I'm right… Rochelle Louise Einer, the second daughter of the Einer household," she reflects, scribbling down notes. The Einers were famed for their incredible holy magic granting them extraordinary sight beyond the norm. Rochelle muses on their unique hair colors and the family's reputation for foreseeing the future."
"The first daughter, whose name I've forgotten," Rochelle laughs, "Anyway, she's the villainess of the story, wielding formidable power but met her demise at the hands of the male lead. Regardless of his name, He was the fiancé of the villainess before the villainess tried to kill the heroine that replace her sister Rochelle that drove her to end her life." Rochelle pauses, feeling a twinge of discomfort.
'Rochelle Louise Einer, a side character who met her demise amidst the taunts and pressures of both nobles and commoners. Once hailed as the saintess after receiving an oracle from the gods...'
"Two years passed since she was appointed as a saintess, but when the heroine arrived, everything fell apart. Rochelle lost her title and power, and the moment people discovered her weakened state, their eyes turned into daggers, their words, sharp as poison, drove Rochelle to the end her life.
"That was the story… yet now... I'm her. The character I gave such a tragic role." Rochelle clenches her fist. "This isn't what I expected at all. But I must survive, not as Sabrina anymore, but as Rochelle Einer! I'll endure until the end and find a peaceful resolution." She raises her fist with determination, yet a sudden realization strikes her.
"Wait- what happen next in the story...?" Rochelle dumbfounded realizing she has forgotten everything from her own novel. "Ha ha ha, am I really going to survive in this world...?" Rochelle rests her head on the table, emotion swirling within her.
As the night wore on, Rochelle continued her contemplation at the study table. The flickering candlelight casts dancing shadows across the room. Thoughts flowed like ink on paper. The room echoed with the soft scratches of her pen against the pages.
With the gentle sweep of time, the night surrenders to the soft hues of dawn, the first rays of sunlight pierce through the curtains, awakening Rochelle from her thoughts. "Morning already…? Feels like I barely closed my eyes..." she says with a sleepy yawn, her eyes adjusting to the changing light. The room transforms, exchanging the cloak of darkness for the warm embrace of morning light. The distant sounds of the waking world filter in, replacing the nocturnal silence.
"Another day in this mysterious life…" Rochelle mutter to herself gazing out of the window. As she closes her journal, ready to face the challenges of a new day, a knock interrupts her contemplation.
"My lady, it's time to rise. The morning awaits.' Lilian voice coming from outside the door, Rochelle look again through her journal on the table and smiles "Let's see what today has in store for me." Rochelle reluctantly leaves her writing behind and rises from her study table. She feels a sudden urge to explore the mansion, seeking more knowledge from her newfound identity. She turns to Lilian, who is busy preparing breakfast.
"Lilian!" Rochelle exclaims with a big smile on her face confusing Lilian with her sudden excitement. "Yes, my lady...? "Lilian responds, her attention now on Rochelle. "Can I leave my room now, right…?" Rochelle asks, the anticipation evident in her voice. "Uhm yes, my lady" Lilian answers "so… can I leave now...?" Rochelle inquires, maintaining her cheerful demeanor. "But you haven't eaten breakfast yet-" Lilian starts, but Rochelle cuts her off. "That's okay!" Rochelle interrupts, still smiling. "But, my lady, you're wearing your nightgown. You cannot leave your room like that!" Lilian insists, gently pushing Rochelle to turn around and sit on the chair. "And you must eat first! You cannot leave your room empty," Lilian continues, prompting Rochelle to comply, albeit reluctantly. "Ughh, fine..." Rochelle sighs.
Rochelle finally left her room walking confidently through the grand halls of the Einer mansion, with Lilian following closely behind. As she admires the opulence around her, Rochelle thinks to herself, "This place really shows how wealthy and powerful the Einer family is..." She continues, "Luckily, the story is set in modern times. I don't need to worry about those medieval things." Rochelle walks calmly, appearing unbothered, but inwardly, she's quite pleased.
Rochelle acknowledges the uniqueness of this world, "Yet, this world has a different setting... magic and unusual creatures exist..." She adds, "Not only that, this world has more than one god they worship." Rochelle grimaces internally, showing her discomfort with the religious aspects of this world.
As Rochelle continues walking down the hallway, a figure emerges from a nearby door at the end. She stops in her tracks. A man with long green hair, dressed in a white and golden robe, approaches Rochelle. He smiles softly at her, and Rochelle is taken aback but reciprocates with a smile. The man turns and continues down the hall, disappearing into the distance. Rochelle is left in confusion. Rochelle questions Lilian about the man. Lilian explains, "Ah! That is your father's student, Nathaniel Serene, the top student of Master... He must have just finished studying at the library. He always stays there for hours after his class with Master." Rochelle nods in understanding, but her inner thoughts reveal her confusion. "Who...?" she thinks, a shocked and perplexed expression on her face. "I don't remember setting a character like that..." Rochelle sweats and looks confused.
Rochelle sighs in frustration and rubs her temples, thinking, "Ughhh... this is so hard..."Lilian is still following Rochelle, appearing bewildered by her sudden expressions and thoughts.
Rochelle back in her room, seated at her study table, continuing to write and contemplate the complexities of her new life. As Rochelle continues to write about the new, unknown character in the story, a thought suddenly strikes her. She looks up from her writing in a dazed manner, contemplating her sudden realization. She mutters to herself, "Wait... a minute... Why haven't I met the sister of this body...?"
Somewhat indifferent, Rochelle waves her hand dismissively, saying, "Meh... Much better if I don't meet the important characters." She resumes writing, jotting down what she remembers about the plot and the upcoming events, carefully organizing her thoughts. "Forcing myself to remember everything really comes in handy," she laughs
Another thought crosses her mind, and she reflects, "Rochelle will become and be appointed as a saintess in 4 years and 5 months..." Rochelle continues, "Rochelle will soon show herself. She will soon get into an academy, the 'Arcanum Nexus Academy'..." Her determination intensifies as she realizes the importance of being prepared for the events that are about to unfold.
Rochelle thinks to herself, "I must be prepared before those events happen..." She looks at her own reflection in the mirror, touching the cheek of her new face. With confidence, she asserts, "This body must be prepared! For what's coming!!"
Rochelle stands up with a determined smile on her face, ready to take on the challenges of her new life and rewrite Rochelle's story. Rochelle's fingers glide across the paper as she scribbles down her plans and strategies. As she writes, her thoughts race, envisioning the twists and turns she wants to introduce to the story.
The room becomes a haven for creativity, with Rochelle at the center of this newfound narrative control. The ink flows from her pen, etching the possibilities of her altered destiny onto the pages.
"I'll shape this world and Rochelle's fate," she whispers to herself with a gleam in her eyes. Her connection with the character deepens, transcending the boundaries of the written word.
As she delves into her intricate plotlines, Rochelle contemplates the significance of her second chance. A smile graces her lips, realizing that the blessing from hell has granted her the power to reinvent not just the story but herself. With each stroke of the pen, Rochelle orchestrates a symphony of choices, molding the narrative into something uniquely hers. A testament to the liberation she feels in rewriting her destiny.
As dawn approaches, Rochelle gazes out of her window, the first light of morning breaking through the darkness. The world she now inhabits holds mysteries waiting to unfold, and Rochelle is ready to face them head-on, armed with the power of her pen and the resilience of a character reborn.
The moonlight bathes Rochelle's room in a soft glow as she drifts into a peaceful slumber. Her thoughts linger on the promise she made to herself, the determination to break free from the shackles of her tragic past.
As she gazes at the ceiling, Rochelle's mind drifts into the haunting echoes of her previous life. The flashback unfolds like a vivid dream, revealing the restlessness that once consumed her every waking moment. The weight of her past burdens her even in this sanctuary of tranquility. In her flashback, Rochelle confesses, "I never had a good sleep because of the role I held back then..." The weight of her past echoes through her recollections, emphasizing the struggles she faced.
Returning to the present, a genuine smile graces Rochelle's lips. She appreciates the newfound peace that embraces her. "I feel like I've won a lottery," she muses, savoring the quietude that eluded her in her past existence. Yet, the transient joy gives way to the gravity of her chosen character. Rochelle's smile wanes as the weight of her tragic role dawns upon her. She raises her hand in silent acknowledgment, "Rochelle..."
With determination etched on her face, she asserts, "The character I made who had a tragic role in the story... I must survive this second time." Rochelle's fist clenches, symbolizing her resolve not to succumb to the same fate. With unwavering determination, she declares, "I must survive this second time..." Rochelle clenches her fist, emphasizing her commitment. "I will not fall again and let anybody use me..."
As the moonlight bathes her in its gentle glow, Rochelle succumbs to the embrace of sleep, carrying with her the resolve to rewrite her destiny and navigate the intricate narrative of her reborn existence.