VORETH
She drowned on her birthday.
Not dramatically. Not heroically. Just a girl who was tired and let the water take her.
She expected nothing after.
What she got was a casket, a weeping mother who wasn't hers, and thirty nobles staring at her like something that should have stayed dead.
The body she woke into belonged to someone else. So did the name, the century, and the enemies. The girl whose face she's wearing was poisoned quietly by people who found her inconvenient and those people are still in this house, still certain they won.
Her name is Zolani. She has no allies, no power, no rank anyone respects.
The gods have been dead for four hundred years and nobody is supposed to know. The world has been rotting quietly ever since and something ancient followed Zolani through death specifically, in a world full of people it could have chosen instead.
She's been dead once already.
She found it underwhelming.
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