Chronicles of the Forsaken

The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, the damp chill of a night still fresh from a recent storm. Seraphina's feet sank into the muddy ground as she stumbled forward, disoriented. The distant hum of the kingdom she had once known was replaced by eerie silence, the only sound the rhythmic rustling of the wind through the tall, twisted trees surrounding her. She had never seen a forest like this—dark, ancient, with the unsettling feeling that it watched her every move.

She inhaled sharply, her breath catching in her throat. Her hands were trembling, but they felt strangely cold, foreign. As if they belonged to someone else. She glanced down at them, the pale skin of her fingers glowing softly under the dying light of the day, but they didn't feel like hers. The rings she usually wore, the ones that had marked her status, were gone.

Her heart began to pound in her chest, each beat seeming to echo louder than the last. Her mind spun, the sudden realization crashing over her like a tidal wave. This... this couldn't be real. She had been in her chambers, a princess—her—Seira Leonardo, second-born daughter of King Ragnar. And yet, here she was, standing in a place she couldn't recognize, feeling things she shouldn't be able to feel.

"Where am I?" she whispered to herself, the words slipping out before she could stop them. She quickly clamped a hand over her mouth, as though the very utterance of her confusion could somehow make it all real. But no, it couldn't.

She was still disoriented, unable to make sense of the dizzying flood of thoughts tumbling through her head. How had she gotten here? What had happened to her? The last thing she remembered—the crash, the blinding pain, the cold darkness...

She reached up, running her fingers through her hair, and froze when she touched the unfamiliar texture. Her hair had changed, longer than before, tangled and wild in the wind, no longer the neat, controlled style she had kept while in her world. It fell messily around her shoulders, darker than before, a deeper shade of black that matched the shadowy world around her.

Her gaze turned back toward the dense, twisted forest. The trees were tall, impossibly tall, and their gnarled branches reached out like fingers, stretching toward her. The sight was grotesque, too alien to be the familiar forests she had seen near the castle. And yet, there was something eerily familiar about it, as if she'd seen this place before—but she knew she hadn't.

Think, Seira. Think.

Her mind raced, trying to piece together fragments of thoughts, but the more she tried to focus, the more disoriented she felt. She wasn't sure whether to scream or run. She didn't even know which way to go.

Then, the crackling sound of footsteps broke through her spiraling thoughts.

She froze.

A shadow moved within the trees, and in an instant, the figure emerged—tall, cloaked, and unmistakably human. The figure's presence was commanding, its movements fluid and graceful as it stepped toward her. The figure's face was hidden beneath the hood, leaving nothing but darkness, but Siera, now Seraphina could feel the intensity of its gaze. The air grew thicker, charged with a palpable tension, and Seraphina's pulse quickened.

"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice hoarse but firm.

The figure tilted its head, as though contemplating her words. It didn't answer immediately, and for a long, long moment, they stood there, staring at each other. The silence felt suffocating, and Seraphina could feel the weight of it pressing against her chest. Whoever—or whatever—this was, it didn't seem like a simple traveler or wandering soul. This being felt... different. Otherworldly.

"You shouldn't be here," the figure finally spoke, its voice low and cold, carrying an odd resonance, like the echo of something ancient and forgotten. There was a strange power in its tone, and for the first time since waking up in this strange place, Seraphina felt a pang of fear. This was no ordinary person, nor was it an ally.

She stepped back, eyes narrowing, her instincts flaring to life. "What do you mean? Where am I? Who are you?"

The figure didn't move, its presence unmoving as the wind howled around them. There was a pause, before it spoke again, its voice now laced with something else—something she couldn't place. "You have crossed over," it said simply, the words carrying an unsettling weight.

Seraphina's heart skipped a beat. "Crossed over?" she repeated. The phrase sent a chill down her spine. "What are you talking about? This isn't real! This can't be real!"

The figure finally took a step closer, its footfalls silent against the forest floor. The air grew colder, and Seraphina shivered involuntarily, her breath visible in the suddenly frigid air.

"You were the one who crossed the boundaries," the figure murmured, as though speaking more to itself than to her. "You died, Seira Leonardo. And now, you as Seraphina Valemont find yourself in the world that was never meant for you. The one you sought to escape."

Seraphina's knees weakened as the truth hit her like a blow to the chest. Her blood ran cold, her hands trembling violently at her sides. This couldn't be happening. It wasn't possible.

She stared at the figure, her mind desperately trying to make sense of the impossible. "No," she whispered, her voice shaking, "this is a mistake. I'm not—"

But the figure raised a hand, stopping her words. "The world you knew is gone. Your death has awakened something far darker." Its eyes, hidden beneath the shadow of the hood, gleamed faintly, two tiny pinpricks of light in the darkness.

Seraphina's breath caught in her throat, and she could feel her knees threatening to give out beneath her. The world she had known—her kingdom, her life—had vanished in the blink of an eye. She was trapped in a place she didn't understand, with only the whispers of death and the promise of something far worse hanging over her head.

A cold wind swept through the forest, and Seraphina stumbled backward, the weight of the world pressing down on her. She wasn't just lost. She was no longer a princess in her father's kingdom. She wasn't Seraphina Valemont, the second-born, the villainess.

Seraphina took an involuntary step back, her instincts screaming at her to run. The figure stopped a few feet away, their posture unnervingly calm. The words sent a jolt of fear through her spine. Seraphina's lips parted, her throat tightening.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

The figure ignored her question. Instead, they tilted their head ever so slightly, their hood shifting just enough for her to catch the glint of sharp, inhuman eyes glowing beneath the shadows.

"You have no idea what awaits you, do you?"

Seraphina swallowed hard, her hands curling into fists.

This wasn't just about waking up in a book.

Something was very, very wrong.

A sudden gust of wind rushed through the clearing, and before she could react, the figure lunged.

The last thing she saw was a blur of darkness, and then—

Nothing.