Reality overload

⚠️  WARNING ⚠️   This chapter is going to get a bit dark and gruesome, if you can't handle that please scroll to the end, and I will have a note summarizing the chapter...

————————————————————-

I woke slowly, like my mind was climbing back into my body.

I felt a  cool cloth rested on my forehead.

A soft breeze brushed my cheek, there was a maid fanning me with a delicate carved fan.

The sofa beneath me was plush, warm, and impossibly comfortable.

I blinked.

The room was quiet.

Lucas sat on the edge of the sofa, elbows on his knees, watching me with that steady, worried look he got when he didn't know what else to do. 

I looked away from him unable to meet his gaze. 'God, iI though...i can't even look at his stupidly handsome face. What is going on with me!' my thoughts were a mess.

Nate stood behind him, arms crossed, relaxed but attentive. Reia and Riley were nearby, whispering softly. Halden and Alexa sat together on a nearby chair, both calm, both relieved to see me stirring.

Charlie was kneeling beside me, hands folded in her lap, eyes wide but not frantic.

"Hey," she said softly. "You're awake."

I swallowed, throat dry. "Charlie...?"

She let out a breath. "Yeah. You fainted."

I blinked again. "Oh."

Lucas leaned forward slightly. "You were standing one second, and then you just... went down. I caught you."

I looked at him. "You carried me?"

He nodded. "Yeah." I felt my face begin to frost. Great, this was the second time I had keen carried by him. It was starting to feel like a trend.

"T-Thanks.... Lucas." I said 

The maid dabbed my forehead gently. "Your Majesty, please rest. You are stable."

Charlie touched my arm lightly. "You scared me a little. But the maids knew exactly what to do."

Reia nodded. "They moved so fast."

Riley added, "They didn't even look surprised."

Halden smiled softly. "Apparently fainting is a thing royalty does sometimes."

Alexa nudged her. "Or Nightbearers."

I exhaled slowly, letting the cool cloth soothe the last of the dizziness.

Charlie squeezed my hand. "You don't have to get up yet."

Lucas nodded. "Take your time."

I nodded faintly.

"...okay."

The maid continued fanning me, Thar air feeling nice.

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the room settle around me.

"I'm okay," I whispered.

Charlie smiled. "We know."

I sat upright, the cool cloth still resting on my forehead. My head felt clearer now, but my chest... my chest was tight. Too full. Too empty. Too everything.

Charlie stayed beside me, hands rubbing small circles on my back.

The elder stood a few steps away, waiting with that patient, ancient calm he always carried.

I swallowed.

"I... I need to see it."

The elder tilted his head. "Are you sure you're ok Zora?"

I looked up at him, eyes still unfocused, voice barely above a whisper.

"I'll be fine."

Charlie stiffened. "Zora—"

"I have to know," I said, more firmly this time. "We've never... never had money. Not this much money. The most I ever spent was on that stupid gaming pod and—" My voice cracked. "And now you're telling me I have vaults, as in Plural."

The elder nodded once, solemnly.

"You do."

I stared at him, throat tight.

"I need to see it," I repeated. "I need to understand what we are getting ourselves into. I need to know...I feel like I'm in a dream. First, I'm made the daughter of a goddess, then I'm made a Queen. I'm given this chateau and now a whole treasury. I can't wrap my head around it. Everything moving a bit to fast."

The maid beside me gently adjusted the cloth. "Your Majesty, you may stand when you are ready."

Charlie exhaled shakily. "If she wants to see it... she should."

Lucas stepped forward just enough to be supportive, but not hovering. "We'll go with you."

Nate nodded. "All of us."

Reia and Riley exchanged a look

"I appreciate the support guys. For now, I just want Charlie to come with me. I will need all of you to help with this eventually, but for now...

The all nodded agreeing with my selfish demands without arguing. I was really lucky to have such understanding friends.

The elder bowed his head slightly.

"Very well," he said. "If you wish to see the treasury now, I will take you. The books, the vaults, the ledgers, the holdings, everything."

I inhaled, shaky but determined.

"Yeah," I whispered. "We need to know."

The elder extended a hand, gesturing me and Charlie to follow him.

"So be it," he said softly. "I will show you what you have inherited from your predecessors."

I pushed myself up from the sofa, the maids steadying me with practiced ease.

My legs trembled.

I stood slowly, the maids stepping back once they were sure I was steady. Charlie stayed close, but not hovering, just there, quiet and worried in her own way.

The elder waited until I was fully upright before speaking.

"Zora," he said softly, "The vault of your predecessors is here. In this chateau."

Charlie blinked. "Here?"

The elder nodded. "Yes. The Nightbearer's vaults were built beneath this estate. Hidden. Protected. Older than the kingdom itself, the towns main treasury is within hilguard itself.

My breath caught.

He turned and began walking toward the far wall of the grand hall—toward a place that looked completely ordinary. A painting. A tall vase. A stretch of stone.

But when he pressed his hand to the wall, the stone shimmered, and seam appeared.

"Clunk."

A door slid open.

Behind it was complete darkness.

Charlie grabbed my sleeve. "Zora..."

I swallowed hard. "ea I'm ok Charlie ."

The elder stepped inside, and the torches lining the narrow passage flickered to life on their own, soft gold flames that didn't burn, didn't smoke, didn't flicker like normal fire.

Magic.

Magic that felt like warm breath on my skin.

Charlie whispered, "This place is old."

The elder nodded. "These passages were carved during the reign of the first Nightbearer. Queen Isolde Raythorne."

My chest tightened.

"She built this?" I asked.

"No," the elder said. "It was built for her. By those who followed Hestia's blessing. By those who believed the Nightbearer would need a place to keep what must never be lost."

We walked deeper.

The walls were carved with symbols, soft curves, spirals, hearth‑flames, moon‑shapes. The air hummed with warmth, not heat. A comforting warmth, like sitting near a fire on a winter night. It was a very familiar warmth.

Charlie ran her fingers along the carvings. "These are... beautiful."

"They are protective sigils," the elder said. "Very old. Very powerful."

After what seemed like ages of walking downward sloped corridors. We reached a second door, a massive stone one, sealed with metal bands that glowed faintly. The air around it felt heavier, thicker, like the magic itself was watching us.

The elder stopped.

"This," he said quietly, "is the oldest vault. The first vault. The one built for Queen Isolde Raythorne."

I stared at it.

It felt like staring at history itself.

The elder placed his hand on the door, but it didn't move.

"It has not been opened," he said, "since she walked these halls."

Charlie's eyes widened. "Ever?"

"Ever," the elder confirmed. "No ruler after her could open it. Not her children. Not her successors. Not the queens who came centuries later."

He looked at me.

His expression was unreadable.

"I do not know," he said softly, "if even you can open it."

My heart thudded.

I stepped closer.

The door pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat.

Like it recognized something.

Like it recognized me.

I lifted my hand.

The elder didn't stop me.

He only said, voice low and reverent.

"If any Nightbearer can open this vault... it will be you."

My fingers brushed the stone.

Warm.

Alive.

Waiting.

The moment my hand touched the vault, the world vanished.

No sound.

No air.

No movement.

No time.

I wasn't in the passage anymore.

I stood in a vast, endless darkness...warm, soft, familiar. The kind of darkness that feels like a blanket, not a threat.

A single ice shard flickered in front of me.

It grew.

It stretched.

It unfolded.

And then a woman stepped out of it.

Tall.

Strong.

Warm.

Eyes like twin chips of blue crystals. She was beautiful beyond words. Her hair braided with threads of night.

A cloak shimmering like starlight woven into fabric.

She looked at me with a soft, knowing ache.

"Hello, little sister."

My breath caught.

"Sister?" I whispered.

She nodded.

"I am Isolde Raythorne," she said. "The first Nightbearer. Hestia's first daughter. Before you."

My chest tightened.

"Hestia... had others?"

"She had me," Isolde said softly. "And now she has you, and Charlie."

I swallowed hard. "Why am I here?"

Her expression shifted, grief, old and deep, flickering behind her eyes.

"Because you must know the truth," she said. "Before you open what I left behind."

The darkness pulsed.

Isolde stepped closer.

"I died," she said. "Not in battle. Not of age. Not by mortal hands."

Her voice dropped.

"A god killed me."

My stomach twisted.

"Why?" I whispered.

"Because I was Hestia's daughter," she said. "Because I carried her spark. Because I was the Nightbearer. And because some gods fear what they cannot control."

The darkness trembled around us.

Isolde's eyes hardened. "And they will come for you now."

"Hestia saved my soul," she said. "She pulled me from the brink. She preserved me in the vault's magic. So I could warn the one who came after."

I swallowed hard.

"Warn me about what?"

Isolde reached out, her hand warm, steady, ancient.

"About the danger you now carry," she said. "About the eyes that will turn toward you. About the gods who will not want another Nightbearer to rise."

My heart hammered.

"But I didn't choose this," I whispered. "I didn't want to be—"

"A girl?" she finished gently.

I froze.

Her voice softened.

"I know. I felt your anger. Your confusion. Your grief. You were not ready for this shape. You did not ask for it."

My throat tightened.

"But Hestia did not choose your body," Isolde said. "She chose your soul.your body came from within.

The darkness warmed.

"She chose the part of you that was brave enough to survive death. Brave enough to become something new. Brave enough to carry her spark."

I trembled. "F-from w-within?!?!"

Isolde stepped closer.

"You are not me," she said. "You are not meant to be me. You are meant to be what you want."

The flame behind her pulsed.

"But you must understand this, Zora: the gods who killed me will come again. They will sense Hestia's spark. They will sense the Nightbearer's rise."

My breath caught.

"Why tell me now?" I whispered.

"Because you are about to open what I sealed," she said. "And once you do... your path will no longer be hidden. You will be like a beacon in the night."

The darkness tightened around us.

Isolde placed her hand over my heart.

"You must be ready," she whispered. "You must be strong. You must be true. And you must accept who youchoose to be."

Her eyes burned with warmth.

"You are my sister," she said. "And I will not let you walk blind into the danger that killed me."

The cold behind her surged.

The vault's magic pulsed.

Isolde's voice wrapped around me like a final warning.

"Be careful, Nightbearer. The gods are watching you."

The darkness swallowed her.

And I was alone again.

And then the darkness swallowed me whole.

The darkness didn't open gently.so ething wasn't right.

It peeled, like something alive shedding its skin like a rotting corpse, and I fell through it without falling, landing in a courtyard I recognized instantly, except everything was wrong very wrong.

The stones were cracked open like ribs.

The air was so cold it felt like it was burning my lungs. My skin felt like it was on fire. The sky hung low and swollen, a bruise stretched across the heavens, unmoving, unnatural.

And then I saw them mountains of dead bodies.

Gods, the bodies.

Charlie lay closest, her hair spread across the ground like someone had arranged it. A look of surprise on her face. The sun mark on her forehead grey and faded.Her lower half ten feet away.

"NO-nonononooo..."

Lucas was beside her, one arm stretched toward her, fingers curled as if he'd tried to reach her before he froze. A damping hole through his back.

Nate's staff was snapped in half, the wood singed and smoldering. Half of his body a charred mass of flesh. The smell was overwhelming. I began to wretch, my eyes watering as I vomited.

Reia's hands and fingers were bent backward at obscene angles like someone had broken them one by one curled up like an empty toothpaste bottle. Tear tracks running through her dirt streaked face her neck a mass of blood. 

Riley's mouth was open in a silent scream. Her back broken skewed in an unatural way. I couldn't look at the rest. It was to horrifying.

"Oh gods...no... not them no... why???" I wailed my eyes stinging with tears and vomit.

Kathrine's was clutching her children. Mira's tiny hand was limp, I couldn't see the rest of her. 

Kathrine and Elias had tried to cover her.

Elias's chest was caved in. A defiant look still locked onto his face.

Geld's bode and armor was split open. Still upright, clutching his sword. As if he had died standing. Trying to save them.

All of them.

All of them were gone...dead.

I felt something inside me tear. My knees hit the stone before I realized I'd fallen. My breath came in thin, broken gasps that didn't feel like they were reaching my lungs. My hands shook so violently I couldn't keep them steady.

I didn't want to look up.

I didn't want to see anything else.

But I did.

I had never seen him before, but I instantly knew who it was. 

Cross floated above the courtyard, suspended by nothing. His limbs hung wrong, his head tilted at an angle that made my stomach twist. His eyes were open and rolling, but empty hollow, a void, stripped of anything human. He drifted downward slowly, like gravity didn't apply to him anymore.

Tepid air spilled from his open mouth. It brushed my skin like slimy fingers.

I scrambled backward, my palms scraping against the stone.

"Cross... Bastard...stop!"

He didn't.

His hand lifted...limp, trembling, and reaching toward me. Nothing human recognizable. It was... something else. Something that wanted to hurt me. Something that wanted to break me.

The air grew colder.

And then the bodies around me started to twitch. Bones crunching under their skin.

They rose.

Slowly.

Wrongly.

Empty.

Their eyes were hollow. Their movements unnatural. Their bodies lifeless but standing.

I felt my mind crack. I curled in on myself, arms wrapped tight around myslf, forehead pressed to the cold stone. My breath shook. My heart felt like it was splintering apart.

I wanted to disappear.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to die.

I wanted to wake up.

I wanted to run.

I wanted to be anywhere but here.

The dead stepped closer.

A hand brushed my shoulder, and shadow fell over me. Nate's broken staff clunking on the cracked stone. A small hand grabbed at my ankle.

I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't think.

I couldn't move.

I was breaking. Losing my sanity.

Instill I heard a voice. " who.."

Gentle.

"Don't give up, baby."

Her hand landed on my back.

Her breath  rushed my hair.

Her warmth against my shaking shoulders.

"You don't quit. Not ever."

The dead pressed closer.

Cross drifted lower.

Her voice stayed.

"You stand up."

I lifted my head.

"You stand up, Kris."

My breath caught.

"You stand up, my Zora."

I felt tears falling. "M-mom.."

I planted my hands on the stone and pushed myself upright. My legs trembled. My breath tore. My heart felt like it was still breaking.

But I stood anyway.

I looked at Charlie's empty eyes. My sister, a tear rolling down her cheek, and then I looked at Cross drifting above them.

I looked at myself, my own corpse....lying behind them, chained and pierced through the chest with spikes of black ice.

"No...."

The word didn't echo.

It didn't shake the ground.

It didn't roar.

The dead froze.

Cross stopped drifting.

The sky held its breath.

I stepped forward. Pushing through my loved ones.

That's when I noticed the me that was chained began to rise. And it looked at me, a wicked sneer on its face. 

"You will not tether me any longer." it's words like metal scraping across metal. O WILL BE FREE FROM YOU!!!"

"No... this isn't real... no.." I forced the words out.

"This isn't real, I won't let it be REAAAAAAAL!!!" I screamed. Power exploding from deep within me.

And the vision shattered.

Darkness swallowed everything again

The silence pressed against my ears, heavy and suffocating. I could hear my own heartbeat, too loud, too fast, like it was trying to escape my chest.

Then the ground beneath me shifted.

I looked down.

My own corpse lay at my feet. The same one I had seen a moment ago, chained, pierced through the chest with black ice, lips blue, eyes open and empty. Seeing it again made my stomach twist. I felt sick. I felt cold. I felt like I was looking at a version of myself I had never wanted to exist.

I knelt beside her, and for a moment I couldn't breathe. The sight of my own dead face felt like a punch to the ribs.

Then the corpse moved.

Her fingers twitched.

Her chest jerked.

Her head tilted.

I scrambled backward, palms scraping against the stone.

The corpse rose.

Slowly.

The chains rattled as she stood, black ice cracking and falling away in shards. Her eyes rolled back, then forward again, fixing on me with a hollow stare that didn't belong to anything living.

I couldn't move.

The corpse stepped toward me.

And then it changed.

The skin rippled like water. Bones shifted beneath it. hair shortenening, and shoulders broadened.

The jaw sharpening. The height changed.

The girl melted away.

And the boy I used to be stood in her place.

Kris.

He looked exactly as I remembered, same eyes, same face that I had always associated with me. Seeing him again felt like being punched in the chest...hard.

He stared at me, as if he could see straight through my skin.

I felt exposed.

Like every lie I'd told myself was suddenly visible.

Kris didn't speak at first. He just watched me, his expression unreadable, his presence heavy in the air. The vault's darkness clung to him, making him look more solid than any memory had a right to be.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low and angry, and it hit me like a blade.

"You're lying."

My breath caught. "Kris—"

"No." He stepped closer. "Don't pretend with me. Don't pretend you're okay. His voice cracked, raw and furious. "Don't say my name like you still deserve it."

 The words felt like a slap.

"You keep saying you're fine," he said. "You keep saying you've accepted being a girl. You keep saying you've moved on."

His eyes narrowed.

"But I know you."

I swallowed hard, heat burning behind my eyes.

"You didn't accept it," Kris said. "You endured it."

He took another step, close enough that I could see the anger tightening his throat.

"You hated waking up in that body," he said. "You hated looking in the mirror and seeing someone you didn't recognize. You hated the way people looked at you. You hated the way you felt. You hated the way everything changed."

My breath trembled.

"You hated being a girl," he said. "You hated it so much you wanted to disappear."

I felt tears sting my eyes.

"And now you pretend you're okay," Kris said. "You pretend you've accepted it. You pretend you're her."

He shook his head.

"But were lying."

I felt myself shrinking under his stare.

He kept going.

"You think about Lucas like that now."

I flinched.

"You blush around him. You get flustered. You let him carry you like—" His mouth curled. "Like some girl in a story."

I swallowed hard, heat burning behind my eyes.

"He was our friend," Kris said. "Our friend. And you—" His voice broke, then sharpened again. "How could you think about him like that? How could you let yourself become someone who does?"

I shook my head. "I didn't choose—"

"You didn't fight it." His voice rose, trembling with anger. "You didn't fight any of it."

I felt myself shaking.

"You just let it happen," he said. "You let yourself turn into this."

He gestured at me, at my body, my shape, my existence.

"This girl."

The word sounded like poison in his mouth.

"This thing."

My breath hitched.

"Unnatural," he whispered. "Disgusting."

The world tilted.

I felt the ground sway beneath me, felt my chest tighten until I couldn't breathe. His words hit harder than any blow, sharper than any blade. They cut through every fragile piece of acceptance I had tried to build.

"Kris..." My voice cracked. "Please..."

He didn't stop.

"You abandoned me," he said. "You abandoned yourself. You abandoned everything we were. Everything we knew. Everything we understood."

He stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the heat of his anger.

"You were a man," he said. "A man. And you threw it away."

I staggered backward, breath shaking, vision blurring.

His voice dropped to a whisper, but it was the cruelest thing he had said yet.

"And the worst part is you stated to like it didn't you?"

My knees buckled.

I fell to the ground, hands shaking, breath tearing out of me in ragged gasps. I curled in on myself, arms wrapped tight around my ribs like I could hold myself together.

He watched me, breathing hard, eyes burning, waiting for the truth, the one I had buried so deep 

I never dared say it, not even to myself.

—————————————————————

Zora wakes slowly, still disoriented from passing out, but her first instinct is urgency. She insists on seeing the Nightbearer treasury, convinced she and Charlie alone need to sii it. The Elder studies her carefully, then reveals a secret long kept, beneath the chateau lies an ancient vault, sealed by the first Nightbearer, Queen Isolde Raythorne, and untouched for ages.

He leads Zora and Charlie through a narrow, dust‑laden passage hidden behind the chateau's wall. The air grows thicker as they descend, the stone changing from familiar architecture to something older, carved with symbols. Only the Elder seems to know the way, moving with reverence.

They reach the vault doors, massive, dark metal engraved with Isolde's crest. When Zora lays her hand on the surface, the world drops away.

Zora finds herself standing in a vast, quiet expanse of night. A figure forms before her. Queen Isolde, or rather an echo of her consciousness preserved within the vault, by Hestia Isolde's presence is calm but heavy, like someone carrying centuries of silence.

She calls zora sister as she is Hestia's first daughter, and tells Zora the truth of her death. she was murdered by gods who feared what she had become. She warns Zora that opening the vault will make her a beacon, a flare in the night that the gods will sense instantly. Once she opens it, she will no longer be able to hide from them. The warning is not cruel, but it is absolute.

Zora feels the weight of it settle in her chest.

The mist shifts, and Zora is thrust into a trial meant to test her inner strength. The world around her becomes a dim, echoing space where she sees symbolic visions of people she loves most deceased—friends, family, faces she carries in memory.

Above them, Cross hovers like a suspended shadow, unreachable and watching. The sight shakes her.

The trial deepens. A distorted version of herself rises from the mist, an uncanny reflection claiming it will soon be "free" of her. The words hit a nerve she didn't know was exposed. Zora's emotional surge shatters the illusion like glass.

The mist reforms into a final figure, her male self, the version of her she once lived as. He is sharper, colder, shaped from the parts of her past she tries not to revisit. He berates her for becoming a girl, for "letting it happen," for choosing a path he sees as weakness.

He forces her to confront truths she avoids even in her own thoughts, especially her new feelings toward Lucas, the friend she cares for more deeply than she admits. His words cut because they come from a place she once inhabited. 

And also the truth she refuses to admit even to herself.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!