The dream was always the same—flashes of golden fields stained with blood, the deafening clang of swords, and a crown lying broken in the dirt. Seraphina woke with a gasp, her heart racing as though she had run for miles. Her small, rustic bedroom felt suffocating, and the comforting scent of dried herbs failed to calm her. She ran a hand through her golden hair and whispered, "Just a dream." But it didn't feel like one.
Sera lived a quiet life as a healer's apprentice in the village of Dalesmere. She had no memories of her parents, having been found as a child on the outskirts of the forest with nothing but a silver pendant around her neck. Old Maeryn, the village herbalist, had taken her in and raised her as her own. Life was simple, but lately, strange visions and a lingering sense of déjà vu had made her restless.
That morning, Sera accompanied Maeryn to the marketplace to sell their herbs. The usual chatter of the villagers filled the air, but something felt… off. She turned, her green eyes scanning the crowd, and stopped. Standing at the edge of the market was a man unlike any she'd ever seen. He was tall, with dark hair and piercing silver eyes that seemed to look straight through her.
Their eyes met, and Sera's breath hitched. For a moment, the noise of the market faded. The stranger took a step toward her, but a shout from Maeryn snapped her back to reality. "Sera! Come on, girl. We've got work to do."
When she turned back, the man was gone, but a strange sense of familiarity lingered. She didn't know why, but she couldn't shake the feeling that her life was about to change forever.
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TO BE CONTINUE....