"What's this?" she whispered, her heart pounding as her gaze locked onto something.
A crimson mark coiled delicately around her collarbone, extending gracefully to the upper part of her chest. As she leaned closer, its true shape emerged—a serpent.
Its head rested poised on her collarbone, exuding an aura of quiet vigilance, while its tail coiled elegantly across her chest, as if guarding her heart. Encircling the serpent were ancient, glowing symbols, their enigmatic patterns whispering of secrets long forgotten.
"This wasn't here before. How did it…?" Her voice trailed off, her mind racing with questions she couldn't answer.
Her fingers brushed the mark hesitantly. It was warm to the touch, almost as if it were alive.
Could this somehow be linked to my journey to this century? she wondered, her thoughts swirling with confusion. Her reflection stared back at her, offering no answers—only more mysteries.
For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw the snake's head move. She stumbled back, her hand flying to her collarbone, but the mark was still. Just a trick of the light.
Or was it?
She forced herself to inhale deeply, trying to still the tremors in her hands. Her reflection stared back, but it felt foreign now, the woman in the mirror marked by something she couldn't explain.
"What does it mean?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
The air around her seemed to shift, and an eerie stillness settled over the room. From deep within, a faint, wordless whisper arose—a pull, gentle yet insistent, tugging at her very core. It was not a sound, but a sensation, a beckoning she couldn't ignore.
Her chest tightened as the pull grew stronger, filling her with a strange, unshakable certainty that something—or someone—was waiting.
But where? And why?
Pushing the thoughts aside, she straightened, her resolve hardening. "Answers will come," she said softly, though the weight of the unknown pressed heavily on her.
Far away, in the depths of an ancient vault, a forgotten wooden chest trembled, its iron lock creaking open after centuries. Inside lay a weathered leather book, its cover page etched with two intertwined serpents—red as blood and identical to the mark on her skin.
The book stirred, its pages rustling as though waking from a long slumber. It held secrets written in the language of fate, and now, it had begun to whisper her name.
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Elysia straightened, taking a deep breath to calm the whirlwind of thoughts. Answers will come, she assured herself, brushing a finger lightly over the serpent mark one last time before turning away from the mirror.
Dressed in a beautiful flowery white knee-length dress that hugged her figure—so different from the loose hospital gowns—she descended the stairs for breakfast.
As she entered the dining hall, the family turned their heads, eyes widening in awe.
"You look beautiful," Arina said warmly.
Sophie, eager to make Elysia feel at home, gently guided her to a seat beside her, serving her breakfast with a warm smile.
Edward, Alex, and Arina watched quietly, their expressions a mix of curiosity and admiration.
Benjamin's gaze lingered on his parents, whose happiness seemed to radiate brighter than ever.
This breakfast was unlike any they'd had before. A sense of warmth filled the room, as though the family was now truly whole.
Benjamin's expression softened as he observed his parents, their faces glowing with happiness. It felt as if a missing piece had finally fallen into place, bringing new light into their lives—like heaven had heard their silent prayers.
Later, as William and Benjamin left for the office, Sophie decided to spend the day with Elysia.
Edward's family, after a brief visit to meet the new addition, departed still puzzled by William's insistence on the adoption.
Sophie had noticed Elysia's distraction during breakfast—the far-off look in her eyes. Now, sitting together on the garden swing, the same heaviness clouded Elysia's expression.
Elysia stared off into the distance, lost in thoughts filled with unanswered questions. Sophie gently touched her elbow, bringing her back to the present.
"What's troubling you, dear?" Sophie asked, her voice soft and full of concern.
Elysia turned to her, her gaze flickering with unspoken emotions. "Nothing, Mother," she replied with a faint smile.
Sophie didn't press her. Instead, she placed a comforting hand over Elysia's. "Whenever you're ready, I'm here," she said warmly.
Emotion swelled in Elysia's chest. She placed her hand over Sophie's, her voice steady but filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Mother. I will. Don't worry."
Though her parents' love was reassuring, Elysia kept her questions to herself. How could I burden them with something even I don't understand?
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Far away, in the dim glow of flickering lanterns, a figure emerged from the shadows, their footsteps slow and deliberate, echoing ominously in the silence.
Dust hung thick in the air, and the faint creak of ancient wood seemed to groan under the weight of time. The figure's gaze was fixed on the vault at the center of the room, its iron lock dangling open as if inviting them in.
With a steady, almost reverent breath, they opened the heavy lid, revealing the ancient leather-bound book resting inside. The twin red serpents on its cover glowed faintly, their coils twisting and pulsing like the rhythm of a forgotten heartbeat.
A cold, dangerous smile curled on the figure's lips as they reached for the book, their fingers brushing the cover with a deliberate slowness. "She's back," they whispered, their voice low and venomous, carrying the weight of dark intent.
The smile deepened as they spoke again, their words laced with malice, "Let's see if you're ready for what's coming, Elysia."
A chill seemed to ripple through the room as the words hung in the air, a promise of something far more sinister on the horizon.
The figure's eyes gleamed with twisted satisfaction as they clutched the book tightly in their hands, vanishing once again into the shadows, leaving nothing but a lingering, ominous presence behind.