Selene sat before the ancient mural, tracing the contours of her own stone-carved face with hesitant fingers. The dim torchlight flickered, casting shadows that made the painted eyes appear alive—watching her, waiting for her to remember.
But the memories wouldn't come.
The silver-haired elder—who the others now called Marisol—stood beside her, silent but expectant. The weight of history pressed down on Selene's shoulders, heavier than the crown she had yet to wear.
"So," Cassius drawled, arms crossed. "What's the next move, Your Majesty?"
The title sent a jolt through her. Was that what she was now?
A queen? A symbol? A fraud?
Selene exhaled slowly, turning toward Marisol. "What do you expect of me?"
Marisol studied her. "What do you expect of yourself?"
A sharp answer danced on Selene's tongue, but she swallowed it down. Instead, she thought of the Order. The years they had spent hunting her. The secrets they had stolen. The kingdom they had buried.
And she thought of the people who had knelt for her, believed in her.
Her grip on the pendant at her neck tightened.
"I expect to stop running."
Marisol's lips curved into the faintest smile. "Then you are already more of a queen than you realize."
They gathered in what remained of the great hall. Not an army, not yet, but something close. Survivors of the fallen kingdom, warriors hardened by exile, rebels who had spent too long hiding in the shadows.
Selene stood before them.
"I won't lie to you," she began, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. "I don't remember the past we shared. I don't remember being the queen you lost."
Silence. Eyes watching, waiting.
"But I know what the Order has taken from us." Her fingers curled into fists. "And I know that if we do nothing, they will take even more."
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Some skeptical, some hopeful.
Orion stood at her side, a quiet pillar of strength. Cassius, arms still crossed, gave her an almost-impressed nod.
Selene swallowed, taking a breath.
"I can't promise you that I'll be the leader you remember," she admitted. "But I can promise you this—I will fight for this kingdom. For its people. For the future the Order tried to erase."
The murmur turned to agreement.
And then—one by one—they knelt again.
Not out of blind faith. Not out of obligation.
But out of choice.
Selene's heart pounded.
This was real.
Later that night, as the fires burned low and the ruins quieted, Orion approached her.
"There's something you should know."
She turned, reading the tension in his stance. "What is it?"
"The Order," he said. "They know."
Selene's breath hitched. "How?"
Orion's jaw tightened. "One of our scouts intercepted a message. The Order has already sent their response."
A chill ran through her. "How much time do we have?"
Orion hesitated.
Then—
"None."
A distant horn echoed through the ruins.
Selene's blood ran cold.
They weren't coming.
They were already here.