Was I dreaming?
The soft glow of dawn barely crept past the curtains, the world still bathed in the quiet hush of early morning. I was awake—fully, undeniably awake—so why did it feel like I was hallucinating?
Because hovering over me, eyes glinting with amusement, was none other than Sera Vandren.
I groaned, sinking further into the mattress, pulling the blankets up to my chin. "What are you doing here again? Didn't you get enough of haunting me last night?"
Sera only smirked, resting her chin in her palm as she loomed over me like a cat toying with its prey. "What? I can't have a little fun?"
I scowled at her, fully prepared to argue—until I remembered her past. The things I had seen. The things she had gone through.
With a sigh, I muttered, "Fine. I guess you can."
That earned me a laugh, soft yet edged with mischief. "Oh? Getting soft on me already, Chloe?"
"Don't push it," I grumbled.
Still chuckling, she slid onto the bed beside me. Wait.
"Hey—!"
She tucked herself in.
Tucked. Herself. In.
Like she owned the place.
…Which, technically, she did. This was originally her life. Her body. Maybe, in some twisted way, this was still her bed.
"Fine," I muttered under my breath. "I'll allow it. For now."
Sera grinned like she had just won a battle.
"I have something important to tell you," she said at last, her voice dropping into something more serious. "I figured you were finally prepared enough to hear it."
I turned to her, brows furrowed. "What is it?"
Sera exhaled, stretching her arms over her head as if this wasn't the most cryptic thing ever. "I've looked through your memories—" she began casually.
Oh god.
"—all of them," she added. "But mostly the ones about the novel. About this world's fate. The ending."
I swallowed hard. The ending of Revenge of the Fallen Villainess. The story that had changed so much since I got here.
"In the novel, I was the antagonist," she continued, tilting her head. "But now that you have changed things, as the butterfly effect dictates—a new antagonist will emerge."
I frowned. "I already knew that," I said, waving a hand dismissively. "It was kind of obvious."
Sera, however, only grinned—a knowing, chilling grin.
"You're wrong about who the new antagonist is," she said simply.
A strange unease prickled my spine.
"The new antagonist... isn't just the monsters," she clarified. "They may be a part of it, but let me say this—sometimes, the enemy isn't the ones furthest away from you. Sometimes, the enemy is the one closest to you."
What?
I stared at her, a slow dread creeping up my throat. "What are you trying to say?"
Sera lifted a hand, tracing her fingers along my jawline. Her touch was cold.
"The ending of the novel," she murmured. "It was never written, correct?"
I hesitated before nodding. Yes. The final arc was never published.
"But I died," she added. "That much was confirmed."
I swallowed hard, my mind flashing back to the single undeniable fact from the novel.
Sera Vandren—murdered.
"In the hands of Tessa Vale."
My throat felt dry. "I know."
"But what happens after I die?" Sera asked, voice deceptively light. "Was my death really confirmed? I mean—" she gestured to herself, reclining beside me on the bed, smirking. "—I'm still here. Not physically, but I'm here, aren't I?"
A blank canvas.
That's what the final chapter felt like. Tessa Vale had killed her. That was the last thing the readers knew. The story ended abruptly, unfinished.
"Don't you remember it?" I asked cautiously.
Sera's smirk twitched, something almost unreadable crossing her expression.
"As if the world would let things be that easy," she muttered.
Her fingers traced lower, brushing over my lips, lingering.
TOO CLOSE. TOO CLOSE. TOO CLOSE.
"Hey," I choked out. "You're getting a bit too touchy."
Sera blinked innocently. "I just look so pretty."
"...Alright, we're done with this conversation," I muttered, backing up immediately.
But her next words froze me in place.
"My memories end there, too," she said, her tone calm. Too calm. "The final moments of Tessa Vale taking me down. After that? Nothing. It's all blank. Like the story never continued. Like my existence just... stopped."
I felt cold.
A silence stretched between us.
Then I groaned, burying my face into the blanket. "Everything is getting way too complicated."
Sera chuckled. "Welcome to my life."
I exhaled sharply, sitting up. "Is there anything else I should know?"
"Just remember what I said," she mused, watching me with that same, knowing smirk. "The enemy could be the one closest to you, too. Perhaps, if you get the chance, you'll experience more of my past. Maybe that will give you some clues."
I ran a hand through my hair, exasperated. "Great. More cryptic warnings. Just what I needed."
Sera only winked.
"Pfft, this is the most entertainment I've had in years. Why wouldn't I take advantage of it?"
And just like that—
She was gone.
The silence in the room felt too empty after her presence had vanished, like the echo of something unfinished lingering in the air.
I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. There was no way I was getting any more sleep after that.
My mind was still spinning from everything she had said. The unfinished novel. The missing memories. The warning that the real enemy might not be some far-off villain, but someone close to me.
And Tessa.
I shivered despite the warmth of my blankets, feeling something cold settle deep in my bones.
There were too many questions. Too many things I didn't know.
And that terrified me.
Slipping out of bed, I stretched, rolling my shoulders. Something felt off. Lighter. I frowned, glancing down at my arms. Had I lost weight? No—muscle. My body felt leaner, stronger. The weeks of training must've changed me more than I realized.
I grabbed some warm clothes and pulled them on, stepping into the crisp morning air. The sky was painted in soft hues of purple and gold, the sun barely peeking over the horizon. It was quiet, the kind of stillness that made the world feel untouched.
I headed to the backyard—or what used to be the backyard.
Now? It was a full-on training field.
Scorched patches of earth marked where my father's fire magic had hit during sparring. Frozen targets stood in the distance, remnants of my mother's lessons. Training dummies, reinforced practice weapons, and spell circles lined the area. It looked like a battlefield frozen in time.
And leaning against the largest tree—untouched, unscathed—was my crystalline bow.
I hesitated for a moment before picking it up, feeling the cold, familiar weight in my hands.
The bow never melted, never cracked. Even after being left out all night, it remained perfect. Almost as if it were an extension of my mother herself.
"Just how strong is she…?" I muttered under my breath.
I tested the string, pulling it back gently. The bow was sturdy, flexible—but there was something else. Something I hadn't noticed before.
It felt alive.
Like it was responding to me.
I grabbed an arrow, notching it with practiced ease.
My fingers grazed the cool shaft as I pulled back the string, feeling the power hum beneath my fingertips.
Breathe in.
My eyes focused on the target in the distance.
Breathe out.
And then—I let go.
The arrow exploded forward, cutting through the crisp morning air with a sharp whistle. The force behind it sent a ripple through the air, a sudden rush of energy that crackled like frost spreading across glass.
I watched, almost entranced, as the crystalline arrow gleamed under the rising sun, its tip glinting with an icy shimmer. It didn't just fly—it soared.
Straight toward the target.
A sharp thud echoed across the field as the arrow struck dead center. The impact sent a wave of frost spreading outward, creeping across the wooden target like delicate spiderweb cracks in frozen glass. The wood groaned under the pressure before shattering into pieces, breaking apart in a dazzling display of ice and splinters.
I blinked.
"Whoa..."
That was definitely new.
I flexed my fingers, the lingering cold of my magic still tingling against my skin. That had felt... effortless.
Was this part of the knowledge Sera had given me? Or had something changed inside me?
I stepped forward, examining the remains of the target. The frost hadn't just spread on it—it had burrowed deep inside, freezing it from within before it collapsed under its own weight.
I used ice magic before, but never like this.
I never even knew I could.
"Impressive."
A voice broke the silence, making me whip around, bow still in hand.
My mother stood there, arms crossed, watching me with an unreadable expression. The early morning light caught in her silver-white hair, making her seem almost ethereal.
"That technique," she said, stepping closer. "It wasn't something I taught you. Was it?"
I hesitated. "No... it just came to me."
Eleanor's eyes flickered to the remnants of ice and splintered wood. "It's advanced," she mused, more to herself than to me. "Controlled. Refined. You didn't just hit your target—you infused the arrow with ice magic and manipulated its release. That takes precision, experience."
She turned her gaze back to me, sharp but not unkind.
"And yet, you've never done it before."
I swallowed. "...No."
Silence stretched between us.
Then, to my surprise, Eleanor smiled.
"Well then," she said, placing a hand on my shoulder, her golden-blonde hair catching the morning light. "Looks like we have a lot more to explore, don't we?"
I exhaled slowly, feeling the lingering chill of magic still coursing through my fingertips. A strange mix of nerves and excitement buzzed inside me—this was something new, something unfamiliar yet instinctive, like a part of me had always known how to do this.
Sera's gift.
Yeah. We really did have a lot more to explore.
"But," Eleanor continued, withdrawing her hand and stepping back with a serene smile, "we won't train too much today."
I blinked. That was unexpected.
"Wait—what?" I asked, lowering my bow slightly. "You're cutting training short? You, of all people? Who are you, and what have you done with my mother?"
She laughed softly, a sound like wind chimes in the breeze. "Even I know when to take a break, Sera."
I squinted at her. "Do you? Because I've seen you practicing until midnight before."
She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by my suspicion. "Fair point," she admitted, "but today is different. We have a special guest coming."
I tensed immediately. "Special guest?"
"Your father's old friend and his daughter will be visiting us today," she explained, dusting off her sleeves. "They'll be arriving soon, so we'll pause training until after they leave."
I frowned. "And who, exactly, are they?"
Eleanor's expression turned playful, almost secretive. "You'll see soon enough."
Oh no.
That was never a good sign.