The air was thick in the court as Cedric stood by the large arched window of the west wing, his hands clasped behind his back but knuckles white with tension. Strange happenings in the last week had escalated across the kingdom: a second tear ripped through the skies above a neighboring province, leaving an unearthly scar in its wake. This time, the tear had brought more than just destruction—it had brought someone.
"Her name is Dahlia," Vivienne said, entering the room with her characteristic briskness. Her tunic was dusted with dirt from the road; she'd barely rested since returning from the site of the second rift.
Cedric turned to face her, his expression guarded. "Who is she?"
Vivienne sighed, shaking her head. "That's the problem. She's not supposed to exist." She laid a scroll on the table, unrolling it to reveal a detailed sketch of the woman they'd encountered. "I spoke to Magnus. He recognized her from one of the kingdom's oldest legends-a story discarded centuries ago before it was ever finished."
Cedric leaned over the table, his eyes narrowing as he studied the image. Dahlia was strikingly beautiful, with sharp eyes that seemed to gleam with an intensity that could cut through steel. But there was something unsettling about her presence, even in a simple drawing.
"And now she's here," Cedric said, his voice low. "How?"
Vivienne straightened, her shoulders stiff with frustration. "The rifts. They're pulling fragments of forgotten stories into our reality. Dahlia must be one of those fragments. But she's not just a passive remnant—she's aware, Cedric. She knows this world isn't hers, and she's using that knowledge to her advantage."
Dahlia's entrance into the kingdom was anything but subtle. She had appeared in the middle of a bustling market square, a swirling vortex of energy heralding her arrival. The townsfolk, terrified, scattered as she emerged from the chaos, her crimson dress billowing around her like flames.
Magnus had been the first to approach her, his instincts as a former villain kicking in. But Dahlia had been unfazed by his imposing presence, brushing past him with an air of disdain. "I'm not here for pleasantries," she'd said, her voice smooth yet sharp. "This world may not be mine, but it owes me something. And I intend to collect."
It had not taken her long to get to the capital, where the fire in her personality had already begun to stir up trouble. She openly clashed with Vivienne, using her biting wit and veiled insults to dismiss her authority. The already uneasy court, given the recent instability of the kingdom, found itself caught in the crossfire of their tense interactions.
It wasn't long before Cedric would meet Dahlia. Two days later, she showed up at the castle unannounced and unconcerned with protocol. She swept into the great hall like a tempest, her presence commanding the attention of all present.
Cedric stood, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his sword. "Lady Dahlia, I presume," he said, his tone neutral but firm.
Dahlia inclined her head, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Prince Cedric," she said, her voice laced with honeyed sarcasm. "I've heard so much about you. The noble hero, beloved by all. Tell me, does it ever get tiresome, living up to everyone's expectations?"
Cedric's jaw tightened, but he forced himself to remain calm. "What do you want?"
Dahlia's smile widened. "To survive, of course. This world may be an accidental host, but it's far better than fading into oblivion. And I'll do whatever it takes to ensure my place here."
Her words sent a chill down Cedric's spine. There was something unsettling familiar about her confidence, as if she'd already calculated every move he might make.
Vivienne's patience snapped the moment she spotted Dahlia in the great hall. She stormed in, her face a storm cloud, and placed herself squarely between Cedric and Dahlia.
"What are you doing here?" Vivienne asked sharply.
Dahlia lifted an eyebrow, wholly unimpressed. "Simply making my presence known. It's what we noblewomen do, isn't it?"
"You don't belong here," Vivienne snapped. "You're a fragment of some forgotten story, a relic of a world that no longer exists. You can't just saunter into our lives and begin to change everything around to suit yourself."
Dahlia's eyes sparkled with amusement. "But isn't that precisely what you have done, dear Vivienne? From what I've heard, your rise in prominence was every bit as shattering."
Cedric stepped between them, his voice firm. "Enough. This isn't the time for petty arguments. We have bigger problems to deal with."
Dahlia smirked, but she didn't press the issue. "Of course, Your Highness. Far be it from me to add to your burdens." She curtsied mockingly before sweeping out of the hall, leaving an air of tension in her wake.
That night, Cedric couldn't sleep. Dahlia's presence lingered in his mind, not just because of the chaos she brought but because she stirred something he couldn't quite name. Her fiery determination reminded him of someone—of Leona.
In his sleep, he saw flashes again of Leona: her smile, her laughter, the way she had always found a way to stand firm no matter the odds. But now those images were interspersed with glimpses of Dahlia, her piercing gaze cutting through the fog of his thoughts.
He woke in a sweat, with the growing sense that Dahlia's arrival was not another anomaly. She was here for a reason, and it had to do with the growing fractures in their world.
Vivienne was livid. His anger at Dahlia's arrogance annoyed him, but more than that, it was the way she commanded attention, even from Cedric.
She would catch him staring off into space during council meetings, his mind a thousand miles away. And when she confronted him about it, his evasive answers only frustrated her further.
"She's getting into your head," Vivienne said one evening, cornering Cedric in the corridor.
Cedric sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's not what you think."
"Then what is it?" Vivienne demanded. "Because ever since she arrived, you've been different. Distracted."
Cedric hesitated, his gaze far away. "She reminds me of someone."
Vivienne's heart fell. She didn't need to ask who—she knew.
While Cedric and Vivienne struggled with their own doubts, Dahlia was busy making moves of her own. She had quickly ingratiated herself with the court, charming the nobles and sowing seeds of doubt about the stability of the kingdom.
But her true intentions remained a mystery. At night, she would retreat to her chambers, pouring over ancient texts and muttering to herself about "the fracture" and "the forgotten prologue."
It wasn't long before Magnus, ever the watchful protector, began to suspect that Dahlia knew more about the rifts than she let on. He confronted her in the gardens, his towering form casting a shadow over her as she strolled among flowers.
"What is it that you're hiding?" Magnus said, low and dangerous.
Dahlia didn't bat an eyelash. She turned to him, her face composed. "I could ask you the same question, Duke. But let's not waste time with accusations. We both know this world is teetering on the edge of collapse. I'm simply ensuring I have a place in whatever comes next."
Magnus' eyes narrowed. "And what makes you think you'll survive when the rest of us don't?
The smile that cut across Dahlia's face was cold. "Because unlike you, I've seen what lies beyond the rifts. I know what's coming."
Days turned into weeks; the rift beside the second village was growing, its edges limned with an ethereal light. From it began to emerge strange, grotesque creatures: amorphous shadows, without a defined form, but the presence of which could shiver the stoutest-heated of warriors.
It was clear that time was running out for the kingdom. The rifts weren't just bringing fragments of forgotten stories; they were unraveling the very fabric of their world.
Vivienne, Magnus, and Cedric convened in the war room, their faces grim.
"We can't keep fighting this piecemeal," Vivienne said, her voice urgent. "We need to find the source of these rifts and put an end to it."
Magnus nodded. "Agreed. But we also need to keep an eye on Dahlia. She knows more than she's letting on, and I don't trust her."
Cedric said nothing, his thoughts consumed by the memories of Leona and the growing feeling that she was somehow connected to all of this.
As the meeting adjourned, Vivienne caught Cedric's arm. "Whatever you're feeling, whatever doubts you have, we need you to stay focused. The kingdom needs you."
Cedric met her gaze, his expression conflicted. "I know," he said quietly. "But something tells me that Dahlia's presence isn't just a coincidence. She's here for a reason, and we need to figure out what it is before it's too late."