The wind blew softly across the garden.
Mila sat where she had fallen, the grass beneath her still trembling faintly from the residue of the Sage's spell.
Her hands wouldn't stop shaking. Her heartbeat refused to slow.
"He almost… got in…"
Her voice was barely a whisper, drowned beneath the gentle rustle of leaves.
The air still carried traces of his magic faint blue motes fading like dying fireflies. She felt them pressing at the edge of her thoughts, echoes of that invasive force that had tried to tear open what little peace she'd rebuilt.
She hugged her knees and hid her face.
Her breath came out ragged, her chest heavy with something that wasn't quite fear it was frustration. Rage.
"Why does everyone…" she muttered, voice trembling, "…keep trying to chain me?"
Her golden eyes shimmered faintly then, for the briefest moment, they flickered maroon.
And when they did, a whisper surfaced deep within her mind.
A voice soft, yet vast.
It wasn't human. It wasn't even entirely hers.
"You… fought back."
Mila's breath hitched. She froze.
The voice resonated from somewhere deep far below the layer of memories she could reach.
"W–Who's there?" she asked aloud, looking around the empty garden.
"You've forgotten me… again."
Her hands trembled harder. The tone wasn't threatening it was mournful, like something ancient and lonely.
Flashes of crimson light crossed her vision an immense shadow, a dragon's silhouette spreading its wings behind her eyes.
And in that instant, the ache in her head flared again, worse than ever.
"Agh!" She grabbed her temple, falling forward to her knees. "Stop… please, stop…"
"Do not fear me… You are me."
Then, silence.
The light vanished. The pain faded as quickly as it came.
She stayed there for minutes trembling, breathing hard, the grass damp beneath her palms.
When she finally stood, the world felt heavier the sky dimmer, the air sharper.
She forced herself to walk back to her quarters, pretending nothing had happened. But each step echoed like a heartbeat in her skull, a rhythm she couldn't silence.
As she reached her door, her reflection in the glass faintly shimmered for just one second, the woman staring back had red-black hair and maroon eyes, not silver and blue.
Then it vanished.
And Mila, still trembling, whispered to herself in fear and disbelief:
"What… am I becoming?"