3. Awake in Someone Else

The world wasn’t any easier just because she woke up in it, especially not when the body she was in wasn’t even hers.

She opened her eyes again, blinking against the sunlight that now spilled through the wide windows. The heavy curtains had been pulled aside, letting in soft warmth and a breeze that barely registered. Her heart was pounding. Her mind was a mess of questions she couldn’t untangle.

Did… someone sell me?

Is this the afterlife?

"You’re not meant to go back, Sia. What’s waiting for you isn’t what you left behind."

Her breath hitched.

Who… who said that?

There was no one around. Just that faint whisper curling around her brain like a familiar, but impossible smoke to place. A voice that didn’t belong to any face she could recall.

"You’ll see. Things are never as they seem when you first arrive. But you? You’ve always figured it out. Even when you didn’t know what you were chasing."

She tried to grasp the voice, the meaning. But her memory shoved her back towards a blank wall.

All she could see was her grandmother’s smile, blurred by tears and shabby lights off her room, fe suffocating pain, the Lupus diagnosis and er body giving up before she did.

The rest was a fog she couldn’t fight her way through.

"You’ll walk roads drawn in ash. One path will bleed, one will bloom. You’ll have to choose with your eyes shut."

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up." she snapped, voice tight as her jaw locked. Her hands clutched the sides of her head, fingers digging in, nails pressing against her scalp like she could claw the voice out.

It didn’t help, because the voice wasn’t outside. It was in her.

"Eri?"

She didn’t look up, because that wasn’t her name. She couldn’t even hear the voice. all she could hear was voice inside her head telling her things she didn't even understand anymore.

A soft, loud voice called again, "Eri? Honey?" Someone stepped inside the room from the balcony.

A woman with rich brown hair with streaks of white hair tied in a sleek bun. Her eyes were blue...beautiful blue as if those were crystals. From apperance she looked in her mid forties but still had a beautiful and elegant charm. She was clad in a breathtaking gown stood there like she’d just walked out of a painting. The dress was deep forest green, so rich it almost looked black under the golden light, with puffed velvet sleeves that swallowed her arms like clouds. Gold embroidery crawled across the bodice in a laced crisscross, hugging her waist tight, and spilled over the neckline and hips like ivy. The skirt flared wide, layered in olive tones beneath, embroidered with blooming roses and vines in gold thread, like autumn frozen in time.

Finally, her eyes moved.

Tears clung to girl's lashes as the footsteps drew closer to the bed. She looked up slowly, like her neck weighed too much. Her vision was still blurry, but the shape of the woman was clearer now.

The woman didn’t flinch, didn’t gasp or rush to comfort.

Her expression simply softened, the way someone looks at a wounded animal, not surprised, just sad.

"Eri, my child," she said gently, sitting on the edge of the bed like she belonged there. "I know it’s been hard on you. I’m sorry… for everything we did."

The girl backed away instantly, even though she had nowhere to go. Her back was already pressed against the headboard, but her legs wriggled helplessly across the sheets like she could somehow disappear through the wood.

"Eri," the woman continued, "we’re really sorry for how we behaved. We didn’t think our ignorance… our silence… would drive you to…"

Her eyes dropped.

To the her wrist. Of left hand.

Along the inside of her wrist ran a pale, jagged scar. Its edges were still faintly pink, with traces of yellowish bruising lingering around it. The skin was slightly raised and tight, the line itself unnervingly straight, a remnant of the one night that had almost ended everything. It had been a month, but the mark still looked angry, like it hadn’t fully let go.

"…you would take such a step," the woman whispered.

But she wasn’t looking at her own wrist. Her wide, watery eyes were fixed on the woman’s face. She wasn’t blinking, wasn’t breathing properly either, chest stuttering with every inhale.

This wasn’t just fear.

It was terror.

The kind that makes your soul freeze while your body keeps shaking.

Everything around her looked wrong. The carved ceilings, the heavy velvet curtains, the massive bed she was lying on, the chirping of birds outside the open balcony. It was too quiet, not like the world she came from...not like the city chaos she knew where life was cars honking, people yelling, phones buzzing. This place felt… fake. Like she’d woken up inside a dream with teeth.

The woman said her name again, softly.

"Eri…"

No.

"Eri... I..."

Sia.

That’s my name.

"My name is not Eri," she croaked out. Her voice was cracked and, trembling like the rest of her. "It’s… it’s not."

The woman blinked. And for the first time, she looked surprised.

Then her brows dipped, and the sadness returned, deeper now. "I see… You don’t even like your name anymore."

She didn’t respond.

The girl—Sia's—eyes dropped to her hands which were small, soft, beautiful in a way she didn’t recognize. Her fingers were too elegant, too perfect.

She whispered like she was trying to convince herself, "M-my… n-name… is…"

She looked up again.

"Sia."

The woman tilted her head slightly, like she didn’t quite catch it, or maybe she just didn’t believe it.

"Oh, you mean the princess?" she said after a second. "She came to see you many times, darling. She was devastated. But you wouldn’t wake, and she had to leave each time in tears."

Then her gaze drifted to the floor, her voice softer. "I don’t think she’ll visit again. She’s to be married soon. Her duties are heavier now. The throne’s weight doesn’t wait for grief."

But Sia wasn’t listening.

Not really.

The name Sia still echoed in her skull like a lifeline she was clinging to in an ocean of someone else’s life.

She was dead. And now she was awake in a world that didn’t know her, and a body that wasn’t hers.

"Who… are you?" Sia’s voice barely made it past her cracked throat.

The woman’s eyes widened, like someone had punched a hole through her chest. "Eri, I—what? What happened? Did you lose your memory?"

Before Sia could blink, the woman stood up and closed the distance in a heartbeat. Her hands came up, cupping Sia’s face like she was holding the most fragile thing in the world. Sia froze, not because the woman caught her before she could pull away, but because her touch felt… different. it was soft. The cold backs of her rings grazed Sia’s cheeks, and the scratch of her long nails was almost unnoticeable, like a feather brushing through a storm.

Sia’s eyes locked with hers.

Beautiful.

It was like some weird hypnotic spell wrapped around her senses. And then, suddenly, she noticed the tears pooling at the corners of the woman’s eyes.

"You don’t remember your own mother?" the woman whispered, voice breaking. "I… I am your mother. I am Elowen… your mother, Eri."

"Mother?" The word hit Sia like a slap. She’d never had a mother. Just her grandma was her only real family.

Elowen nodded, the tears now streaming down her cheeks. "Yes, darling. I am your mother. Please… don’t say that. Don’t break my heart… don’t forget me."

Sia swallowed hard, chest tightening. The woman’s face was soaked in sorrow and hope, but all Sia felt was the cold twist of confusion.

"Eri... I know we've been hard on you suddenly. For many years we took care of you as a delicate thing and then suddenly forced responsibilities on you..."

Sia suddenly wasn't feeling scared. She just listened to Elowen even though she understood anything equal to zero.

"My child… we will never force you into anything."

"I will—"

Her stomach picked the perfect moment to betray her.

A loud growl cut through the air, and Elowen blinked, then chuckled softly, head dipping as if trying not to laugh outright. "I’m sorry," she said, eyes warm now, almost amused. "You must be starving. After all, you’ve just woken up after a whole month."

She gently let go of Sia’s face and straightened up, regaining that noble composure like it was stitched into her bones. "Let’s have breakfast together. With the family." Her voice softened. "They… all want to apologise to you."

Sia blinked. "Family? Who—"

That flicker crossed Elowen’s face again like someone smacked her across the soul, but she swallowed it down and plastered on a smile and took a deep breath.

"You’ll see them," she said instead, and extended a hand.

Sia stared at it.

Then, slowly, like her limbs were on delay, she placed her hand in Elowen’s. The older woman gave a small, almost relieved squeeze and helped her up from the bed.

The floor felt cold under her bare feet, and her legs? Felt like sticks. Her knees wobbled, and before she could stop herself, her arm instinctively hooked around Elowen’s, likike muscle memory, like this body knew what to do even if she didn’t.

Elowen froze for a second, probably surprised, but then smiled.

As soon as they stepped out, Sia thought she’d faint.

The corridor outside was massive, endless and stupidly fancy. The floor tiles were a neat checkerboard of white and deep blue. A rich red carpet with gold threading ran straight down the middle like someone rolled out a royal scroll just for her feet. The ceilings were tall.

Way too tall and covered in more carvings than she could process, and chandeliers the size of baby elephants hung low, catching the golden candlelight.

There were Just doors opening into rooms, on either side. All were closed and glinting like they were dipped in gold.

The walls weren’t empty either.

Portraits lined them, tall and framed like sacred relics. But these weren’t random royal paintings, they looked like family, familiar yet foggy.

A man with deep red hair and kind eyes, a woman holding a baby in her arms. Two boys laughing, frozen in time. It was all vague like she’d seen them somewhere or maybe this body had.

Everything about the corridor screamed luxury and history.

Sia didn’t say anything, just stared as she walked, her grip on Elowen’s arm tighter than it probably needed to be.

But Elowen didn’t comment. She just walked beside her.

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