"Even the coldest heart remembers warmth when touched by blood it once shared."
The corridors of the mansion had quieted by the time Crystal Aserra returned from seeing off Prince Faren.
The scent of tea still clung faintly to her sleeves, and her mind was, for once, not filled with calculations of war, betrayal, or cultivation.
Instead, it lingered on a thought so absurd she almost laughed again.
The test…
Her lips curved faintly as she walked. If kissing him really could reveal my soul mate, then maybe fate isn't all cruel after all.
The idea was ridiculous — childish even — but it kept replaying in her mind. Maybe it was the body she now inhabited, fifteen years old, restless, curious. Or maybe it was the faint spark of hope she hadn't felt in a long time.
Still smiling faintly, later the day drew to a close and crystal pushed open the doors to her room.
Inside, Aria was sitting quietly near the edge of the bed, her small hands clutched tightly together. Her eyes were red and swollen from silent tears, and beside her, the maid Mari kept a respectful distance.
Crystal's expression softened immediately.
She had spent a lifetime surrounded by soldiers, ministers, and enemies — yet none of them had ever made her heart ache the way this trembling little girl did.
"Take her to her room, Mari," Crystal said gently.
Mari bowed. "Yes, my lady."
As the maid moved to guide Aria toward the door, the young girl hesitated. Her wide eyes darted to Crystal's face — nervous, cautious, the way a wounded animal might look at a stranger offering food.
Crystal felt her chest tighten.
"Go on," she said softly. "You should rest."
Aria nodded weakly, stepping toward the doorway. Her small feet barely made a sound on the polished floor.
And then — just as she reached the threshold — Crystal moved.
Without thinking, without planning, she reached out and pulled the girl into her arms.
Aria gasped softly, frozen in place.
The room fell silent.
Crystal held her tightly, one hand resting gently on the back of her sister's head. Her body was small, fragile, but warm — and that warmth spread through Crystal's chest like light breaking through fog.
It had been so long since she'd felt this.
A genuine, simple connection.
Aria's body trembled at first, but Crystal's hold didn't falter. Her touch was firm, steady, filled with something unfamiliar — affection without pride, protection without condition.
And slowly, Aria's shaking stopped.
The faint scent of morning daisies from Crystal's hair lingered between them, sweet and soft, comforting in a way Aria had never known.
She hesitated — then, cautiously, her small arms lifted and wrapped around her sister's waist.
The moment she did, the tears she'd been holding back burst free.
A sob escaped her lips, quiet and broken.
"I'm sorry," Aria whispered, voice shaking. "I didn't mean to make you angry before… I didn't mean to—"
Crystal's heart cracked. She shook her head quickly, holding her tighter. "No, Aria. No, don't say that."
Her own voice trembled now. "I'm the one who should be sorry."
Aria sniffed, confused. "But… but you always said—"
"I was wrong," Crystal said, her words coming out rough, heavy with emotion. "I was cruel. I hurt you because I was weak, not because you deserved it."
Aria's tears stained her sister's robe, but Crystal didn't care.
She just held her — tighter, longer, as though she could somehow erase every scar her past self had carved into this child's heart.
And slowly, the trembling in Aria's body faded into soft sobs, then quiet breathing.
They stayed that way for a long time, two sisters caught in the stillness of a world that, for once, wasn't trying to kill them.
Outside, the wind brushed against the open windows, carrying with it the faint scent of blooming night flowers. The petals swirled gently through the air, drifting across the floor like soft flakes of light.
For the first time since her rebirth, Crystal allowed herself to cry — not out of anger or despair, but because something inside her had finally broken open.
She whispered softly, "I missed you."
Aria pressed her face against Crystal's chest, her small voice trembling. "Please don't leave again."
Crystal smiled through her tears. "Never again."
The two stayed there, their tears mingling, the soft sound of their sobs lost in the whisper of the night wind.
Outside, the courtyard shimmered with moonlight. The spirit lanterns flickered gently, their glow painting the sisters in shades of silver and warmth.
It was a moment that felt untouched by time — fragile, pure, and painfully beautiful.
The mansion itself seemed to breathe easier, the air lighter than it had been in years.
For now, at least, there was peace.
But peace, as always, was a fleeting thing.
———
Far away, deep beyond the reach of the capital's lights, the Verdant Forest stretched endlessly.
Rain fell in thin, steady sheets, washing over the dark canopy. Every droplet sparkled faintly with spiritual energy as it struck the leaves, filling the air with the clean scent of wet earth.
Among the trees, a cloaked figure stood silently.
A straw hat shielded his face from the rain, but his presence alone seemed to warp the air around him — calm yet suffocating, like the stillness before lightning.
The man raised his head slightly, eyes glinting beneath the shadow of his hat. The only sound was the faint tapping of raindrops against his blade's sheath.
He waited.
The forest seemed to hold its breath.
Then, with a faint shift, he leapt upward — a single effortless movement that carried him to the upper branches of a massive tree.
He landed lightly on a branch so thin it should have splintered, yet it didn't move an inch.
He stood there, balanced and still, gazing out across the misty expanse.
The rain began to ease, turning into a soft drizzle. Shafts of moonlight pierced through the canopy, illuminating the fog that coiled around the trees.
And then—
Boom.
A deafening shockwave tore through the forest. The ground shuddered, trees swaying violently as waves of chaotic energy exploded outward.
The cloaked figure's straw hat was blown back slightly, revealing the sharp curve of his jaw, the faint smirk that touched his lips.
He didn't flinch.
A thin, focused strand of blade energy sliced through the air a moment later, roaring toward him.
He moved — a blur of motion, vanishing just as the attack split the tree trunk behind him clean in two.
The rain hissed against the blade's lingering aura.
And then… silence.
Only the slow fall of rain and the distant echo of thunder remained.
The man landed lightly on another branch, his straw hat once again shadowing his eyes.
He looked toward the direction of the attack, his voice barely audible beneath the rain.
"…So it begins."
The forest trembled faintly again — this time, not from chaos, but from the promise of something that was coming.
Something dangerous.
Something inevitable.
———
Back in the capital, unaware of the distant tremor that rippled through the land, two sisters slept peacefully for the first time in years — their hands still loosely entwined, their tears dried under the soft glow of moonlight.
And far beyond the city walls, the wind carried the faint echo of steel meeting steel — a warning, whispered to those who could hear it.
"Peace is only the silence between storms — and storms always remember where they last fell."