As I looked at the pendant, I noticed it was glowing softly in my hand, pulsing like a heartbeat. Confused and unsettled, I whispered, "Why are you giving me this pendant, Merrin?"
She stood completely still, her eyes wide with something between fear and guilt, like she'd seen a ghost—or worse, remembered one. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came.
Then, out of the silence, I heard it. A faint whisper curling through the air like smoke, brushing against my ear—cold, cruel, and unmistakably real: "You think you can hide from me now? Think again, Princess. I will make sure your life ends… slowly."
A chill raced down my spine. My fingers tightened around the pendant as my breath hitched in my throat.
"Merrin…" I barely managed to say, my voice trembling. "Did you hear that?"
She blinked rapidly, finally snapping out of her trance. Her face had gone pale. "You heard it too," she whispered, more to herself than to me. "I was hoping it wouldn't find you yet…"
I took a step back. "What is this pendant? What did you do?"
Merrin looked away, tears welling in her eyes. "It's not what I did. It's what I've been trying to protect you from. And now… it knows you're awake."
My heartbeat pounded in my ears. "What knows? Merrin, talk to me!"
She swallowed hard and finally met my eyes. "The pendant belonged to your mother. Not the queen everyone knew, but the warrior who walked in the shadows—before the crown, before the lies. She sealed something away in it… something ancient, something angry."
My throat tightened. "You mean that voice—that thing—is from her past?"
"No," Merrin whispered. "It's from yours."
I stared at her, breathless. "I don't understand."
"You were never meant to inherit the throne," she said softly. "You were meant to inherit her burden."
The pendant burned suddenly in my hand. I gasped and dropped it, watching it land on the floor with a soft metallic clink—but it didn't stop glowing. Instead, it flared brighter, and the shadows around the room deepened unnaturally, stretching toward us like fingers.
Merrin stepped in front of me protectively, her voice shaking. "We don't have much time. Once it fully awakens… it won't just whisper. It'll come for you."
The shadows writhed at the edges of the room, crawling closer, pulsing with the same rhythm as the glowing pendant on the floor.
"Merrin…" I said again, my voice cracking.
But before she could answer, my vision blurred—no, shifted. The air turned thick, like I was sinking into water. The sound of Merrin's voice faded, replaced by echoing screams and the clash of steel. The room around me vanished.
Darkness. Fire. Screams.
I was standing somewhere else now—stone walls rising high around me, cracked and scorched. Ash fell like snow. The scent of smoke and blood hung heavy in the air.
In front of me, a woman stood with her back to me. She wore a black cloak over a blood-red gown, her long hair whipping in the wind, silver strands streaked with gold. In her hand, she held the pendant—the same one now burning in the real world. But here, it shone with fierce golden light, fighting against the shadows that circled around her like wolves.
I knew her… I didn't know how, but I did.
"Stand back!" she shouted. "I can't hold it much longer!"
Another voice—familiar and younger—cried out, "But Mother—what about the seal? What about me?"
My heart lurched. That voice. It was mine—but younger. Afraid.
The woman turned just slightly, enough for me to see her face. Eyes like mine. A jawline like mine. And pain—so much pain.
"You must forget, my child," she said softly, barely audible over the storm. "To protect you, I must become the monster. They will hate me. But you… you must live."
Then, with a cry that shook the very walls of the chamber, she drove the pendant into the stone at her feet. Light exploded outward—and everything shattered.
I gasped and stumbled back into the present, falling against the wall. The pendant lay still now, its glow faint but steady. Merrin was kneeling beside me, panic in her eyes.
"You saw her, didn't you?" she asked, voice barely a whisper.
I could barely breathe. "That was my mother…"
Merrin nodded slowly. "And now, her war is becoming yours."
The room was still spinning when Merrin helped me sit up. My fingers trembled as I touched the pendant again—it felt warm now, no longer burning, as though it recognized me… or remembered.
"She gave everything," I whispered. "She didn't just seal something away… she sealed me away too, didn't she?"
Merrin lowered her gaze, her silence confirmation enough.
A sharp pain pulsed through my temples. My breath caught, and before I could brace myself—another memory surged forward, raw and uninvited.
I was no longer in the ruined chamber or the present.
This time, I was a child again. Barefoot, running through a sun-dappled forest. Laughter echoed around me—not just mine, but hers. My mother, not as a queen, but as a woman—alive, vibrant, and free. She scooped me up, spinning me under the soft light of floating crystal blossoms, their petals humming with quiet energy.
"You're strong, Anna," she said, pressing her forehead to mine. "Stronger than you'll ever know. But strength is dangerous in the wrong hands… even your own."
"What do you mean?" I remembered asking her.
She smiled sadly. "If the wrong memory wakes up… so does the wrong power."
Then the forest shifted, darkening. The warmth faded. The blossoms withered mid-air.
Another voice, colder and hollow, echoed through the trees: "She is not yours to keep. She belongs to the old flame. She will burn like all the rest."
My child self cried out and clung to my mother, but even her arms began to fade into smoke. She looked down at me with tears in her eyes and whispered one last thing before the memory shattered:
"When you feel the fire inside… don't run from it. Learn to command it, or it will consume you."
I came to with a jolt, my eyes wet, my breathing ragged. My hands burned faintly with a golden glow.
Merrin watched me, silent and pale.
"She locked it all away," I murmured. "My powers, my memories… to protect me."
Merrin nodded. "And now the seal is breaking."
I turned my gaze toward the pendant, the whispers quiet for now. But deep inside me, I could feel it: the fire. Not just power, but something alive—wild, ancient, waiting for me to either claim it… or be destroyed by it.
I wanted to scream at the pendant and hurl it as far as I could, to cast it away like the haunting weight it was—but something deep inside me, a voice not quite my own, whispered that no matter how far I threw it, the pendant would find its way back, drawn by a bond I didn't yet understand. It pulsed faintly in my palm, warm and alive, as if it was waiting for me to remember something long buried.
Suddenly, a flash of memory struck me—a younger version of myself, no older than five, standing in a sunlit garden behind the palace. I was laughing, twirling with the very same pendant tied around my neck on a red velvet cord. My mother knelt before me, her eyes filled with sorrow and tenderness as she clasped it around me, whispering, "One day, when your heart is ready, it will awaken." I had forgotten that moment, buried beneath years of locked-away memories and silence. But now, the pendant throbbed gently, as if it, too, remembered.
The memory faded as quickly as it came, but the feeling it left behind was like a storm crashing against the walls of my chest. My grip on the pendant tightened. I turned sharply toward Merrin, my voice trembling between confusion and anger.
"Merrin... why didn't you tell me I had this before? Why do I remember my mother giving it to me—why did she say it would awaken when my heart was ready?"
Merrin stiffened, her eyes wide with a flicker of guilt—just enough to confirm what I already feared. She opened her mouth, but no words came. Just silence. That silence was louder than any answer she could have given.
"You knew," I whispered, stepping closer, heart pounding. "You knew this pendant was more than just a keepsake. What else have you kept from me?"
"I… I wasn't allowed to say," Merrin finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Your memories were sealed by royal decree. By the Queen's own order."
My breath caught. Of course. My mother.
Without another word, I turned on my heel and stormed through the corridors of the palace, the echo of my boots matching the fury in my veins. Guards bowed as I passed, but I didn't even see them. My vision was locked on the throne room.
The double doors flew open at my touch.
"Mother!" I shouted, the pendant swinging wildly against my chest. "You locked away my memories—why? What are you so afraid I'll remember?"
The Queen stood slowly, her expression unreadable. A pause hung heavy in the air.
Then she said, calmly, "Because remembering could cost you everything. Your power. Your freedom. And your life."
The Queen's gaze was sharp, her posture regal, but something in her eyes wavered—pain, perhaps… or fear. My breath caught.
"What do you mean… 'cost me everything'? What power? What freedom?" I demanded.
She stepped down from the dais, her heels clicking softly against the polished marble. The heavy doors groaned shut behind me on their own, and I suddenly felt trapped—caged in truth I wasn't ready to hear.
"Anna," she said slowly, as if the words hurt her to speak, "you weren't meant to awaken yet. The pendant is connected to your true lineage, and the seal was put in place not just to protect your memories—but to protect you."
I shook my head. "Protect me from what?"
A heavy silence fell before she finally said it.
"From your twin brother… Nick."
The air in the throne room felt like it vanished.
"Nick?" I whispered. "But… he died. When we were children. You told me—"
"I lied." The Queen's voice cracked for the first time I could remember. "Nick didn't die. He was taken—corrupted by forces that were hunting our bloodline. The same bloodline that carries the River of Time."
She stepped closer and placed her hand over the glowing pendant at my chest.
"This is what he wants, Anna. You are the key he needs to unlock the forbidden gate… and he will not stop until he gets it. Or you."
A chill ran through me, colder than any winter wind. My own brother—a brother I hadn't even remembered until now—wanted me dead. And worse…
"So all these years… you let me live a lie?" My voice was raw. "You erased him from my mind, locked away everything… including my powers?"
The Queen nodded solemnly. "Because if you had remembered him too soon, the pendant would have awakened—and the bond between you would've drawn him to you like a beacon."
I staggered back, clutching the pendant as if it could anchor me.
"He's coming for me, isn't he?"
The Queen's voice was barely a whisper now.
"He never stopped."
The weight of the truth settled like a stone in my chest. My hands trembled, not from fear, but from something deeper—a storm stirring inside me. The Queen—my mother—watched in silence, knowing there was no taking it back now.
"Then unseal me," I said, voice low but firm. "Give me back what you took. My memories. My powers. Everything."
She hesitated. For the first time, I saw her not as a Queen, but as a mother—one who had broken her daughter to keep her alive.
"If I do this," she said, "there's no undoing it. You will remember the pain. The betrayal. And the power—Anna, the power inside you is not gentle. It's ancient. Wild. Born of the River of Time. You must learn to control it before it controls you."
I stepped forward, raising my chin. "Then teach me."