In this world, freedom isn't something you inherit—it's something you fight for. I've spent years fighting for mine, leaving behind the roles others wanted me to play. I forged my own path, one step at a time, even if it meant walking away from everything familiar.
My journey began the day I found myself in this realm, a place both foreign and strangely familiar. At first, I thought it was some vivid dream, but the cold air biting my skin and the towering, unfamiliar mountains quickly shattered that illusion. I had no idea where I was—or how I had come to be here—but the brooch I wore seemed to hold the answers.
It was an heirloom I'd stumbled upon back in my own world, an ornate piece of jewelry hidden in a forgotten case. I'd felt an odd pull toward it, and when I finally held it in my hands, warmth had spread through me like a long-lost memory. Now, in this strange realm, the brooch reacted again.
A sudden glow lit the dark woods where I stood, and then she appeared.
A woman, no—a spirit, tall and regal, with an aura of power I couldn't ignore. Her hair shimmered like silver moonlight, and her eyes held an ancient wisdom that made me feel small.
"Adira's daughter," she said, her voice soft but commanding. "I have waited for you."
Her words sent a chill through me. Adira's daughter? My thoughts raced. Adira was a name I knew. She was a mage whose tales I had come across in my time here—a woman who had once wielded unmatched power in this realm. But this was the first time anyone had tied her name to me.
"I'm not her daughter," I said, though my voice wavered. "You must be mistaken."
The spirit—Nevi, as she later introduced herself—didn't argue. Instead, she simply smiled, a knowing expression that unsettled me. "The brooch has chosen you," she said. "And it does not lie. Whether you believe it or not, you carry her legacy.
Legacy. The word echoed in my mind. Could it be possible? Could the Adira of this realm have been my mother in another life—or perhaps this life?
Nevi swore herself to my service that day, bound by the brooch and the bloodline it represented. Her presence was both reassuring and unnerving, a constant reminder of a connection I didn't fully understand.
That day marked the beginning of my life in this realm, and it wasn't long before I realized how dangerous it could be. My abilities—ones I barely understood myself—made me a target. The name "Adira" seemed to carry weight wherever I went, and while it shielded me from some, it drew the wrong kind of attention from others.
That was how I ended up training in Avalon Forest, far from the eyes of those who might seek to use me. I spent my days honing my swordsmanship and aura control, carving out a quiet existence in the shadow of towering trees. It was here that I met Papri, the closest ally I would ever have in this world.
Papri came into my life in a rush of chaos. I heard the shouts first, Bronzite Knights crashing through the underbrush in pursuit of their quarry. From my perch high in the branches, I saw her—a young woman with green hair, bloodied but unyielding. She stumbled into the clearing, her breaths labored but determined to keep going.
I should have stayed hidden. It wasn't my fight. But something about her—maybe the fire in her eyes, even through her exhaustion—compelled me to act.
Without hesitation, I dropped to the ground, drawing my sword as my aura flared around me. The knights faltered, their confidence evaporating when they realized who they were up against. One look at my controlled power was enough to make them retreat.
When they were gone, I turned to the girl. She was barely conscious, but she managed to whisper a single word before collapsing. "Help."
I carried her to my hideout, a small townhouse I had prepared for emergencies. Once there, I treated her wounds as best I could, but they were too severe for my limited skills.
"Nevi," I called, and the spirit appeared, her expression calm but focused.
"She is gravely injured," Nevi said, her silvery eyes studying Papri. "You will need help beyond my abilities."
I knew she was right, but the thought of leaving the hideout unnerved me. The town was crawling with Bronzite Knights, searching for someone with green hair. Still, I had no choice.
The streets were tense that night, the air thick with the smell of woodsmoke and danger. I kept my head down, my cloak pulled tightly over my red hair as I slipped through darkened alleyways, leaving Papri's barely conscious form with Nevi. Before I left her breaths were shallow, and I could feel time slipping through my fingers.
The clinic was my only hope. Inside, the nurse greeted me with a tired glance before shaking her head. "There's only one doctor left at this hour. Wait here."
Minutes stretched like hours. The door opened, and a man stepped into the room. My heart stopped.
He moved with quiet confidence, his dark hair falling just slightly over sharp, steady eyes. "I'm Alex," he introduced, his voice calm and clear.
"Mira," I replied, quickly masking my unease. He didn't press me, but something about his gaze lingered—a faint, unsettling recognition.
We traveled back to my hideout in silence, my pulse quickening with every step. I led him through the concealed entrance, casting a quick spell to hide my traces. If Alex noticed anything odd, he said nothing.
Inside, he worked swiftly, his hands steady as he treated Papri's wounds. I stayed in the corner, the shadows wrapping around me like armor, watching him with wary eyes.
"You don't remember me, do you?" he said suddenly, his voice cutting through the stillness.
My heart jolted. "Should I?" I shot back, forcing my voice to stay steady.
He set his tools down, turning to look at me fully. "We've met before," he said quietly. "Long before you called yourself Mira."
The world seemed to tilt slightly, his words a spark against something buried deep within me. "You're mistaken," I said quickly, my fingers curling into fists. "I don't know you."
But he stepped closer, his gaze holding mine with an intensity I couldn't escape. "You do, Katherine Davis."
The name struck like a blow, sharp and cold. I sucked in a breath as fragments of memories—white walls, the flash of my father's cruel smile—clawed at the edges of my mind. Katherine Davis. That name was a chain I thought I'd broken.
"You're wrong," I whispered, though the tremor in my voice betrayed me.
"I've searched for you for years," Alex said softly, his voice thick with something I couldn't name. "Even if you don't remember, I do. And I'll help you."
I wanted to argue, to deny him, but I couldn't shake the weight of his words—or the strange flicker of familiarity in his eyes.