Chapter 29 - #The Sleeping Heiress

🜃 Fragment: "The Heiress's Gown"

The room was wrapped in solemn silence, broken only by the hushed whispers of attendants adjusting the final layers of fabric.Before a mirror framed by ancient carvings, Arisha stood motionless, more statue than woman.But in her eyes... a storm brewed.

The dress draped over her body as if it had been woven for a soul that didn't quite belong to her.Pearled ivory and antique gold embraced each curve, from the strapless neckline to the wide skirt that brushed the ground like a wave of frozen ash.

The corset, embroidered with golden filigree, resembled a living reliquary.At its center, a pattern of flames and a triskelion cascaded down from her chest like a sacred sentence.The embroidered flowers were not sweet—They looked like sealed emblems, broken oaths turned into art.

When she moved, the dress whispered.Not gently…But with ancient weight, as if each thread carried the voices of those who had fallen before her.

From the doorway, Morgana watched and smiled darkly.

—"You look like a cursed queen," she whispered—both praise and curse.

Arisha didn't answer.Her fingers rested on the fabric above her heart, where the mark beneath the golden corset burned.

She knew this dress wasn't hers.Not yet.But it would be.Not as a symbol of submission—But as the final armor of an heiress who, though still asleep, had begun to remember.

Axis of Arisha — "When the soul remembers what the body denies."

The dream returned.

This time, the white forest didn't greet her with silence.The black tree's branches whispered in a tongue she had never heard—Yet somehow understood.

The stone cradle was empty.

And her name—not the one she wore—called to her with a doubled echo:—"Aisha."

Before her stood a woman walking barefoot across the snow.She wore ancient furs, and her eyes—identical to Arisha's—shone with sorrow.

—"Don't forget why you were born," she said."Not to obey.Not to love what imprisons you.But to break it."

Arisha reached out—But the figure dissolved into wind, and a single white flower fell from a sky without clouds.When she caught it, it burned in her palm.

She woke up gasping.The mark left by Sanathiel on her chest blazed like pure fire.She touched her skin—It was spreading.Changing.Something new was forming.

A distant voice cut through her thoughts:

—"Lady Arisha, the ceremony has begun," said a maid from the doorway."Lord Mikhael awaits."

Axis of Mikhael — "What she forgets, I shall remember for her."

The room was small.Not official. Not public.But sacred… in the shadows.

A circular altar.Black candles.A ring of salt and ash.And at the center, two goblets filled with fresh blood.

Morgana stood beside him, dressed in white with a dark veil covering her face.A witness.A conspirator.

Arisha entered with firm steps, though her face showed confusion.Mikhael stepped forward and offered her a goblet.

—"A special wine," he said."To align your body and your memory."

She hesitated…But drank.A part of her wanted to believe.To be free from the weight of so many doubts.

Then Mikhael recited the ritual words:

—"With this union, I declare that our memories shall become one.What you forget, I will remember for you."

But when he tried to seal the ritual, something failed.

The goblet trembled in his hand.Arisha looked down.

Her blood dripped onto the floor—But it didn't fall.It floated.As if it refused to touch the altar.

A symbol beneath their feet flared—red, then black, then white.

—"What did you do…?" Morgana whispered, stepping back.

Arisha didn't respond.Her body arched in a convulsion.An ancient language escaped her lips:

—"...en'val durah serah Nevri…"

Mikhael lunged toward her—But a burst of invisible force slammed him against the wall.

The mark on Arisha's chest expanded.It was no longer just a triskelion.Now, it was also the Broken Moon.

Axis of the Blue-Eyed Nevri — "Those who sleep awaken hungry."

Disguised among the servants, the blue-eyed Nevri had reached the heart of the Golden City.

An old woman saw him and whispered:

—"The Nevri do not die…They only sleep."

He nodded.

—"And one of them… is about to awaken wrong."

He placed a ring on the table—The same one that had glowed when he saw Arisha in the woods.

—"The blood is speaking," he said."And this time… no one will silence it."

Climax

Arisha rose slowly.

She didn't look confused.She didn't look controlled.

She looked awake.

—"Who am I?" she asked, her voice firm as she faced Mikhael.

Bleeding, he barely managed to stand.

—"Whoever you want to be…"

She shook her head.

—"No more lies. No more chains."

The room split in half.The altar exploded.The candles went dark.

And Arisha, standing atop the ruins, whispered a name she had never learned:

—"Rasen."

Epilogue

The sleeping soul stirred.

And for the first time…

Arisha didn't ask who she was.She knew.