*_Everything turned black_*.
My head throbbed as if a hundred bricks had been dropped onto it. The sharp, pulsating pain made me feel as though my skull was on the verge of splitting open. I groaned, my voice raspy and foreign to my ears, and tried to recall how I ended up in this state.
The last thing I remembered was the party—a chaotic blur of dares, laughter, and too much alcohol. My mind latched onto one memory in particular: I was in the middle of a dare, about to kiss old man Jared, who, for some reason, found enjoyment in mingling with people young enough to be his grandchildren. Just as I leaned in, a strange sensation swept over me—weakness, as though my body had been drained of its strength, and then... darkness.
I opened my eyes slowly, squinting against the soft glow of light in the room. The place was utterly alien, like something pulled from the pages of a fantasy novel or a historical drama. The ornate furniture, the intricate carvings on the wooden walls, and the faint scent of burning incense—it all screamed ancient.
Groggily, I tried to sit up, only to realise the bed beneath me was unlike any modern design I'd ever seen. The sheets were made of heavy fabric, and the frame appeared hand-carved. Everything felt foreign, yet strangely familiar.
As I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, a weighty realization struck—I wasn't wearing my clothes. Instead, I was draped in an elaborate gown of soft silks and intricate embroidery. It fit perfectly, hugging my frame in a way that felt... regal.
Confused, I stumbled toward a large mirror propped against the wall. My reflection stopped me in my tracks. My face looked... older, yet somehow more radiant. My features were sharper, my hair glossier, and my figure more refined. It wasn't just the clothes that were different—it was me.
"What the hell is going on?" I whispered.
Before I could piece my thoughts together, a sharp scream broke through the silence. My head snapped toward the door just as it flew open, and a middle-aged woman stood there, frozen in shock. She dropped the bucket and cloth she was holding, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
"She's awake! Your Majesty, she's awake!" the woman finally managed to stammer before turning and rushing down the corridor.
Footsteps followed, growing louder with each passing second. I stumbled back toward the bed, my heart pounding in sync with the approaching sound.
Two figures entered the room. The first was a rugged man with a scar slicing across his left eye. He looked like a soldier—or a warrior—with an aura of raw strength and authority. His expression was stoic, but his piercing gaze was fixed on me.
The second figure stole my breath. He was tall, with long black hair cascading over his shoulders and eyes as icy blue as the winter sky. His chiselled jawline and flawless features gave him an otherworldly beauty, like a god from ancient myths. He exuded power, not just in his appearance but in the way he carried himself.
Panic bubbled up inside me. "Who are you? Who am I? What is going on?" I demanded, my voice trembling.
The rugged man remained silent, but the other man—the gorgeous one—stepped closer. "Athena," he said, his voice smooth and commanding. "Do you not remember us? Do you not remember who you are?"
"Athena?" I shook my head frantically. "I'm not Athena! My name is Kiara!"
The gorgeous man exchanged a glance with the scarred one, their silent communication unnerving me. Finally, he spoke again. "It seems she has lost her memory... Considering the fact that she is from the future."
"The future?" I echoed, my knees threatening to buckle beneath me. "This is insane. Magic isn't real. Time travel isn't real!"
The scarred man spoke for the first time, his voice deep and gravelly. "We need to be sure she is the one."
The gorgeous man nodded, his gaze never leaving mine. "There is a way to confirm."
The scarred man exited the room briefly and returned holding an object wrapped in cloth. He handed it to the gorgeous man, who carefully unwrapped it, revealing an ornate sword. The blade gleamed in the dim light, and intricate runes ran along its length.
"Unsheathe the sword; this is the only way we can know if you are truly the one we seek," he said, pushing the sword toward me.
I stumbled back, shaking my head. "No. No way. I've never even held a sword before."
The gorgeous man stepped closer, holding the sword out toward me. "If you are truly Athena, the sword will respond to you. If not, we will send you back to your time, none the wiser."
The thought of returning home felt like a lifeline, but the sight of the sword made my stomach churn. "What if I can't... what if it doesn't respond?"
His expression softened slightly. "Then your memory will be wiped, and you will return to your life. You will not remember any of this."
I hesitated, my eyes flickering between the sword and the man holding it. Slowly, I reached out, my fingers trembling.
Before I could touch it, the sword lifted on its own, hovering in mid-air. A gasp escaped the middle-aged woman who had re-entered the room. The scarred man's eyes widened, and the gorgeous man looked at me with something akin to awe.
"It recognizes her," he said softly.
The sword pulsed with energy, a glowing light emanating from its blade. I reached out again, my hand brushing against it this time. A wave of energy shot through me, knocking me backward.
"What was that?" I gasped, clutching my chest.
"The sword recognizes its master," the gorgeous man explained. "This is the body of the goddess Athena, and your soul now resides within it. The energy you felt was your body aligning with the sword."
My mind raced. None of this made sense. A goddess? A sword? Another body?
I reached for the sword again, determined to prove—or disprove—whatever they believed about me. As my fingers closed around the hilt, another wave of energy surged through me, this one gentler but no less powerful.
I stared at the ornate sword resting on its pedestal, its handle glowing with an otherworldly light. My fingers wrapped around it, and I gave it a pull—but nothing happened. I yanked harder this time, but the sword refused to move, almost mocking my efforts.
Frustrated, I turned back to the group of people watching me, their faces full of expectation. I threw my hands up in defeat. "You see? You got the wrong person! I'm not Athena or whoever you think I am. Now, just send me back."
The excitement on their faces drained away, replaced by confusion and disappointment. But there was one face that stood out. His. The gorgeous one. His expression darkened instantly, like a storm rolling in. An oppressive aura seemed to envelop him, and it was like the room itself closed in on me, suffocating me. I gasped, my chest tightening as his presence crushed the air around me.
He didn't say a word. Without looking back, he turned to the scarred man beside him and began walking out of the room.
"No! Wait!" My voice cracked as I rushed forward, grabbing his hand. "Take me back! You hear me? Take me—"
A sharp pain hit me at the back of my head. Everything went white for a moment before the darkness swallowed me whole. My knees buckled beneath me, and the last thing I remembered was the cold floor beneath me.
Everything went black again.