The voice was soft, yet full of panic, and it was the first thing that pierced the fog of confusion in her mind. The sound of footsteps, frantic and hurried, approached from behind. She didn't recognize the voice at first, but she knew it wasn't familiar. Not someone from her present.
Her maid—yes, that was it—her maid, Elyra. Elyra had always been there, a kind face in her chaotic life. But now, hearing her name called out so urgently, Aeliana's mind spun in confusion. How is she here? She looked up, blinking rapidly, trying to make sense of the scene around her.
But everything was wrong.
The market square was different, older, with narrow streets and wagons instead of modern carriages. The faces around her were unfamiliar, their clothes old-fashioned, and a nagging feeling began to creep at the back of her mind—This isn't right. This isn't my time.
Aeliana struggled to her feet, dizziness blurring her vision. She reached out, trying to steady herself, but her legs wobbled beneath her. Her head felt like it was spinning in a chaotic blur, and she couldn't quite make sense of what was happening. She could barely focus on Elyra's voice anymore, the maid's frantic calls growing distant as the world around her faded in and out of clarity.
"Miss Aeliana!" Elyra's voice broke through her confusion again, now accompanied by hurried footsteps. "Please, are you alright? What happened?"
Aeliana shook her head, her hand pressing against her temple. Why do I feel so dizzy? The ground beneath her seemed to tilt, and she stumbled, not noticing the carriage barreling toward her. She barely heard the sound of the horses' hooves pounding against the cobblestones, but she felt the wind rushing past her, the blinding speed of it. She couldn't react in time. She was too dazed, too disoriented.
In that moment, everything slowed down. Her vision blurred, and she could feel the shadow of the wheels creeping closer to her—it's going to hit me.
But then, a strong pair of arms wrapped around her, pulling her sharply away from the carriage's path. The world tilted again, and she was yanked back, her body pressed tightly against someone, her heart hammering in her chest. She gasped, her breath catching, feeling the warmth and strength of the person who saved her.
She blinked up at him through the haze of her dizziness. His features were sharp and unmistakable, even through her muddled senses. His dark hair framed a handsome face, his dark red eyes focused intently on her, a faint flicker of something unreadable in them. He was tall—commanding, even.
"Careful," he said, his voice low, a subtle edge of command in it. His grip on her loosened slightly, and she finally realized he was holding her upright.
For a moment, she could only stare at him, too stunned to react. The familiarity of his voice echoed in her mind, but her brain refused to catch up. Who is this? she thought, struggling to clear the fog clouding her mind.
And then, in that moment, it clicked.
Lucian.
...
Her heart skipped a beat, and she swallowed hard, staring up at him. It couldn't be. He couldn't possibly be here. He was supposed to be... dead. She'd seen him die in her previous life, seeing him breaks her heart and destroy everything they had—or will have.
"Are you alright?" Lucian's voice was softer now, almost as if he was waiting for a response. His grip on her waist remained firm but not threatening, as though he were prepared to catch her if she fell again.
"I... I'm fine," Aeliana whispered, still dazed, her mind racing. She blinked up at him, unsure if she could trust her own senses. Had the system truly brought her back to this point in time? Was this the moment they had first met—when she was still an elf mage wandering the world, unaware of the truth behind his mask?
The air around them felt heavy with the past she thought she'd left behind. But Lucian—this Lucian—was no longer the man she had known, the Demon Overlord who had haunted her dreams. She could still see the cracks in his façade, the conflict that simmered beneath the surface, but this... This version of him hadn't destroyed her yet.
But would he? Would history repeat itself?
Lucian's brow furrowed as he took in her blank expression. "You look like you've seen a ghost," he murmured, his voice tinged with concern, though his usual cynicism lingered in his tone.
Aeliana's breath caught. She had to focus, she had to think—she couldn't let this happen again.
She blinked rapidly, her heart pounding in her chest. "No, I—I'm fine," she repeated, more forcefully this time. "I just... need a moment."
Lucian didn't seem convinced, but he released her slowly, keeping his gaze locked on her. She could feel the weight of his scrutiny, a quiet, dangerous thing.
"Rest assured," he said, his voice taking on a new edge, as though sensing something unspoken in her hesitation. "I'm not in the habit of letting people get run over, especially not someone who looks as though they've been through hell."
Aeliana's breath hitched. She didn't know how much time she had before Lucian's true nature would surface again—the man who could become both her greatest ally and her greatest enemy. But for now, all she could do was nod, swallowing her fear.
Because no matter how much she hated it, this moment was the beginning again. And this time, she couldn't afford to let it end the same way.
---
NEXT MORNING
The morning light streamed through her apartment window, bathing the small room in warmth. But warmth was the last thing she felt. Sitting cross-legged on her bed, arms wrapped tightly around herself, she pieced together her fragmented memories.
She had woken up here, in her old apartment, just as it had been five years ago. Five years before that terrible moment when Lucian—the man she loved and hated all at once—had pressed a gun to her temple, then turned it on himself.
"Five years," she muttered, her voice trembling as she stared at her trembling hands. "The system sent me back five years."