The city of Evergrace shimmered under the pale light of the full moon. From the tall spires of the castle, it looked peaceful, like a portrait untouched by the ravages of time and war. But peace, Selene Ashford knew, was often a lie told by the victors. She had won her battles, fought her wars, but victory had come with a price, one she would soon find unbearable.

Selene stood on the balcony of the royal palace, the night breeze catching the silken threads of her raven-black hair. She had never felt more alone, despite the revelry taking place below. The grand celebration had drawn nobles from every corner of the kingdom—her kingdom—but the echoes of laughter and clinking goblets felt distant, like a memory from another life.

She pressed her fingers against the cold stone railing, her knuckles white from the pressure. Tonight was supposed to be a night of triumph. The rebellion had been quashed, the enemies who had dared to challenge her authority reduced to dust and ash. As Queen, she had secured the throne not just for herself but for the people of Evergrace. Yet, her heart was heavy, burdened by something far worse than any political rivalry.

"Your Majesty," a voice interrupted her thoughts. Selene turned to see Lord Elias Wren, her most trusted advisor, standing at the threshold of the balcony. His silver hair glinted in the moonlight, his eyes sharp and calculating as always.

"Elias," she acknowledged, though she couldn't hide the weariness in her voice. "Is everything in order for tomorrow?"

"The coronation will proceed without a hitch," he assured her, stepping closer. "The council has been informed, and the people are eager to see their Queen officially crowned."

The coronation. It should have been the pinnacle of her life, the moment when she would finally be recognized as the undisputed ruler of Evergrace. But all Selene could think of was the growing darkness in the corners of her mind, a feeling that something terrible was on the horizon.

"I still don't trust the North," she muttered, her gaze shifting to the distant mountains. The Northern Lords had been the last to surrender, and even then, Selene had sensed their grudging obedience. "They're too quiet."

Elias chuckled softly. "They are cowards, Your Majesty. They know better than to challenge you again."

She nodded but didn't share his confidence. Trust was something she no longer gave freely. Not since—her thoughts faltered, painful memories pushing to the surface. Not since Kael.

Kael had been her greatest ally, a commander whose loyalty had never wavered. Together, they had built an empire from the ashes of rebellion. But six months ago, he had been murdered—betrayed, it seemed, by the very people they had fought to protect. The image of his lifeless body still haunted her dreams, a reminder that even in victory, she could lose everything.

"You're thinking of him again," Elias observed quietly.

Selene stiffened, unwilling to let her emotions show. "What makes you say that?"

"You always retreat when you think of him. Into yourself." He studied her for a moment, his gaze too perceptive for her liking. "Grief makes us vulnerable, Your Majesty. It clouds judgment."

"Grief," she repeated softly, her voice laced with bitterness. "I don’t have the luxury of grief, Elias. I rule a kingdom built on bones and blood. My grief will not bring Kael back."

"It won’t," Elias agreed, stepping closer still, his voice softening to an almost conspiratorial whisper. "But you can still protect what you have left."

Before Selene could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed from behind them. A messenger hurried into view, breathless, as if he had run the entire length of the palace. He stopped short before Selene, bowing deeply. "Your Majesty," he gasped. "There’s been… an attack."

Selene’s heart stopped. "Where?"

"The northern border," the messenger stammered. "The village of Grayhold. It’s burning."

Her pulse quickened. Grayhold was one of the last settlements she had secured after the rebellion. If it fell, it could spark a new wave of insurrection. Without another word, she turned to Elias, her eyes cold and resolute. "Ready my horse. We leave now."

Elias bowed but lingered. "Selene," he said quietly, dropping the formalities. "You shouldn’t go. Not without knowing what we’re up against."

"I need to see it for myself," she replied, her voice steely. "I won’t be a Queen who hides behind walls while her people suffer."

Elias hesitated, then nodded and left to make the arrangements. Selene’s mind raced. This was more than a simple raid; it was too well-timed, too precise. The Northern Lords were making their move, just as she had feared.

Within moments, she was riding through the darkened streets of Evergrace, her soldiers flanking her, Elias at her side. The wind whipped against her face, but she welcomed the cold. It sharpened her focus, reminding her that she was still alive, still fighting.

But nothing could have prepared her for what awaited at Grayhold.

The village was in ruins, flames licking at the charred remains of homes. Bodies littered the streets, some burned beyond recognition, others cut down where they stood. Selene dismounted, her chest tightening as she surveyed the devastation.

"They didn’t stand a chance," Elias muttered beside her, his face grim.

Selene’s eyes scanned the carnage, searching for something—anything—that would explain this horror. And then she saw him.

A man stood at the edge of the village, his back turned to her. His armor gleamed under the light of the flames, his sword dripping with blood. But it wasn’t his weapon that caught her attention—it was his voice.

"Selene."

Her breath caught in her throat. No, it couldn’t be.

The man turned, and for a moment, the world stopped. It was Kael. Alive. Breathing.

"Betrayed," he whispered, his voice like a knife. "By the one I trusted most."

Before she could react, pain exploded in her chest. Selene looked down to see the blade buried deep, her own blood staining the ground. The world blurred around her, the taste of iron filling her mouth.

"Elias…" she gasped, but when she looked at her trusted advisor, she saw only cold indifference in his eyes. He watched her fall without a word, without a trace of regret.

As the darkness closed in, Selene’s last thought was not of revenge or betrayal. It was of time. The moments slipping through her fingers, the past she could not change—unless

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Selene awoke with a start, her heart pounding. She was not in the charred remnants of Grayhold but instead lay on a soft bed surrounded by intricately woven tapestries depicting scenes of the kingdom in its glory days. The smell of blooming jasmine filled the air, and sunlight filtered through the delicate lace curtains. For a moment, she allowed herself to believe she had awoken from a nightmare. But reality quickly set in as memories of the night flooded back—Kael, betrayal, and blood.

Pushing herself up, Selene realized she was in her childhood home, the very place where her journey had begun. She was back in the past, perhaps days before the rebellion that would change her life forever. The thought sent a chill down her spine. How had she traveled back in time? Was this a cruel trick of fate or some manifestation of her grief?

Rubbing her eyes, she rose and stepped to the window. The garden below was vibrant and alive, unlike the devastation she had witnessed. She watched as children played and birds chirped, a stark contrast to the horrors she had just experienced. But even in this idyllic scene, something felt off. There was a tension in the air, a whisper of unease that Selene couldn’t shake.

“Your Majesty!” A familiar voice broke her reverie.

Selene turned to see Mira, her childhood friend and confidante, standing in the doorway. Her eyes widened in relief, and she rushed to Selene’s side. “You’re awake! We were so worried!”

“Mira,” Selene breathed, feeling a mix of joy and sorrow. “What is happening? Why am I here?”

Mira’s expression shifted from concern to confusion. “You’ve been unwell for days. You fell ill after the news of the Northern Lords’ dissent reached us. They’re gathering their forces, and tensions are high. But you’ll be alright now. You’re safe here.”

Safe. The word struck Selene as ironic. She had fought to create a kingdom where her people could thrive, yet here she was, thrust back into a time of uncertainty. “No, Mira, I need to know more. What is the truth about the Northern Lords? What do they want?”

Mira hesitated, casting a wary glance over her shoulder as if afraid someone might overhear. “They’re planning to rise against us. There are whispers of rebellion, but we can quell it. We have to believe that.”

Selene’s heart raced. She remembered the history that had unfolded—the betrayal that would cost her everything. She couldn’t allow the past to repeat itself. “Gather everyone,” she ordered, her voice firm. “We need to prepare for what’s coming.”

“Selene, you can’t—”

“I must. I have seen what happens if we don’t act.” With that, Selene pushed past Mira and strode out of her childhood home, the weight of her past urging her forward.

As she walked through the familiar streets of Evergrace, memories flooded back—times of laughter, the warmth of her mother’s embrace, and the camaraderie she shared with Kael and their allies. But the further she ventured, the more she felt the shadows of betrayal creeping in. She needed to gather her allies and ensure they were united against the threat that loomed.

Selene’s first stop was the Great Hall, where the council often convened. As she entered, the room was filled with murmurs, nobles discussing matters of importance, their expressions tense. Upon seeing her, they fell silent, their eyes widening with a mix of surprise and respect.

“Your Majesty,” Lord Elias Wren greeted her, his silver hair catching the light as he rose from his seat. “It’s good to see you up and about. We’ve been deliberating on the Northern Lords’ threat. We need a strong response.”

“Response?” Selene echoed, her voice steady. “We must confront this rebellion head-on, or we risk losing everything we fought for.”

Several council members exchanged uneasy glances. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, the North has always been a fractured territory,” one nobleman argued. “They lack the resources and unity to mount a serious challenge.”

“But they do have anger,” Selene countered, her heart racing as she recalled the burning village. “Anger can fuel a rebellion like nothing else. We need to act before it’s too late.”

A heavy silence enveloped the room as the council deliberated. Selene could feel their hesitation, their fear of change. But she was not willing to let history repeat itself. “We must prepare our forces and secure alliances with the Southern provinces. We cannot underestimate them.”

After what felt like an eternity, the council reluctantly agreed to her proposal. As the meeting adjourned, Selene caught Lord Elias’s gaze. He approached her, a frown creasing his brow. “You’re taking a dangerous path, Selene. Rushing into conflict could have dire consequences.”

“I can’t stand by while the North prepares to strike,” she replied fiercely. “We have to be proactive. Besides, I know what betrayal looks like, and I won’t allow it to catch us off guard again.”

Elias studied her for a moment, and Selene could see the worry etched in his features. “Just be careful. The past can be a treacherous guide.”

With those words hanging in the air, Selene left the Great Hall, her resolve stronger than ever. She needed to rally her allies and forge new paths, not just for herself but for the people of Evergrace.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple, Selene found herself in the training grounds, where the sounds of clashing swords echoed through the air. Young soldiers practiced their drills, their movements disciplined yet filled with a youthful exuberance. Watching them, she felt a surge of hope.

“Your Majesty!” A voice called out, breaking her thoughts. It was Aiden, one of her most trusted commanders. He approached with a respectful bow. “I’m glad to see you back on your feet. The men have been eager for your return.”

“Thank you, Aiden. We have much work to do,” Selene replied, feeling a sense of camaraderie. “We need to prepare for the Northern threat. I want to strengthen our defenses and ensure our troops are ready for anything.”

Aiden’s eyes lit up with determination. “We’ll train harder than ever. The soldiers respect you and will follow your lead. Together, we can defend what we’ve built.”

Selene felt a wave of pride wash over her. These were the people she had fought for, and now they were ready to fight alongside her. “Gather everyone. We’ll have a meeting tonight to discuss our strategy.”

As night fell, Selene stood before her assembled commanders and soldiers, their faces illuminated by the flickering torches. “We face a threat unlike any we’ve encountered before,” she began, her voice ringing with conviction. “The Northern Lords seek to undermine our unity, and we cannot allow that to happen.”

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd, filling Selene with resolve. “We must be prepared to defend our kingdom and protect our way of life. Together, we will forge alliances and strengthen our forces. I refuse to let our sacrifices be in vain.”

The crowd erupted in applause, their spirits ignited by her words. For the first time in days, Selene felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she could alter the course of history.

As the night wore on, Selene met with her closest allies—Aiden, Mira, and a few trusted commanders—to discuss their plans further. They strategized ways to gather intelligence on the Northern Lords and reinforce their defenses. Selene was determined to outmaneuver them, to turn the tides of fate in her favor.

However, deep down, Selene couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. Time was a fickle mistress, and the echoes of the past were always lurking just beyond her reach. She needed to be vigilant, for the shadows of betrayal had a way of creeping into the light.

Days turned into weeks, and the tension between the North and Evergrace grew palpable. Selene led her forces with unwavering determination, but each passing day felt like a countdown to disaster. She sent scouts to gather intelligence, and whispers of unrest echoed through the kingdom.

One evening, as she reviewed reports in her chambers, a knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. “Enter,” she called.

The door swung open to reveal Mira, her expression fraught with concern. “Selene, you need to see this.”

Selene rose, following Mira as they made their way to the war room. There, a map of the kingdom lay sprawled across the table, with markers indicating troop movements. A sense of foreboding filled the air.

“The scouts reported back,” Mira said, her voice trembling. “The Northern Lords are amassing a larger force than we anticipated. They plan to strike soon.”

“Damn them,” Selene hissed, her fists clenching. “We must act before they do. Prepare our troops for battle. We can’t allow them to catch us off guard.”

Just as she finished speaking, the doors burst open, and Aiden stormed in, his face pale. “Your Majesty! The Northern Lords have crossed the border. They’re attacking!”

Selene’s heart raced. The moment she had feared had come to pass. “Gather the troops! We ride out immediately!”

As chaos erupted around her, Selene felt the weight of her decisions pressing down. She had fought to protect her kingdom, but now she had to face.........

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Selene’s heart pounded as the weight of Aiden’s words settled over her. The Northern Lords had crossed the border. The attack she had fought so hard to prepare for had come sooner than expected. There was no more time for strategy or negotiation—only action.

“Sound the alarm!” she commanded, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. “Summon every available soldier and prepare the defenses. We hold the line.”

Aiden gave a sharp nod before rushing from the war room. Mira lingered for a moment, her expression torn between fear and determination. “Are you certain we’re ready?”

“We have no choice,” Selene said firmly. “We fight, or we lose everything.”

With that, she strode to the armory, her mind racing through the countless ways this battle could unfold. She had lived through this war once before, and she had lost. But this time, she would not fall so easily.

As she donned her armor, the weight of it felt familiar, like an old burden she had once cast aside. Her fingers tightened around the hilt of her sword. If fate had given her another chance, she would not waste it.

By the time Selene reached the city’s outer defenses, the war horns had already begun to wail. Soldiers rushed into formation, their faces a mixture of fear and resolve. The air was thick with the scent of burning torches and the metallic tang of sharpened steel.

From her vantage point on the stone battlements, Selene could see the enemy approaching. The Northern forces were vast, their banners rippling under the moonlit sky. They moved with the confidence of men who had tasted victory before.

Selene turned to her gathered commanders, scanning their faces. “We do not falter,” she declared, her voice carrying across the wall. “We fight not just for our kingdom, but for our people, our families, and our future. The North seeks to take what is ours, but they will find only ruin!”

A roar of agreement echoed through the ranks. The tension in the air shifted, hardened into something fierce and unyielding.

Then, the first arrow flew.

It arced through the night, a deadly whisper of war, before embedding itself into the chest of a soldier beside Selene. He crumpled without a sound.

“Shields up!” Selene bellowed. The soldiers obeyed instantly, forming a wall of steel as a hail of arrows rained upon them. The clash of metal and the cries of the wounded filled the night. The battle had begun.

The Northern forces surged forward like a tidal wave. Siege ladders slammed against the walls, and enemy soldiers began their ascent. Selene didn’t hesitate. She cut through the first man to reach the top, her blade singing through flesh and bone. Blood sprayed across the stones, but there was no time to think—only fight.

Aiden was beside her in an instant, his sword carving a path through the invaders. “They’re stronger than we anticipated,” he gritted out between strikes. “We need to push them back before they gain control of the walls!”

Selene nodded and turned to the archers. “Target the ladders! Keep them from swarming the walls!”

Arrows rained down, striking their marks with deadly precision. Ladders were toppled, sending enemy soldiers plummeting to the ground. But still, the Northern forces pressed on, undeterred by the losses.

A horn sounded from below. Selene’s eyes darted to the main gate, where a battering ram was being brought forward. If they broke through the gates, the city would fall.

“Mira!” Selene called. “Take a unit and defend the gate. Use fire—burn the ram before it reaches the doors!”

Mira nodded and disappeared into the fray. Selene turned back to the wall just in time to block a savage strike aimed at her head. The Northern soldier snarled, pressing his advantage, but Selene twisted, using his own momentum against him. With a swift stroke, she ended him.

The battle raged on, time losing all meaning. Selene fought with everything she had, her movements precise, deadly. But for every enemy they cut down, more took their place. The Northern Lords had come prepared.

A cry from below drew her attention. She turned just in time to see Mira’s forces struggling to hold the gate. The battering ram had reached the doors, its rhythmic pounding sending cracks splintering through the heavy wood.

If the gate fell, they were doomed.

Selene’s decision was instant. “Aiden, hold the wall! I’m going to the gate.”

“Be careful,” he warned, but there was no time to reassure him.

She raced down the stone steps, weaving through the chaos of battle. By the time she reached the gate, Mira’s forces were barely holding the line. The ram struck again, and the wood groaned under the force.

Selene grabbed a torch and turned to the nearest group of soldiers. “We need to destroy that ram! Follow me!”

With a battle cry, she led the charge. Arrows zipped past her, swords clashed, but she did not falter. She reached the ram, thrusting her torch into the oil-soaked wood. Flames erupted, licking hungrily at the structure. The fire spread quickly, consuming the ram and forcing the Northern soldiers to retreat.

A victory—but a small one. Selene knew this fight was far from over.

She turned, scanning the battlefield. Her forces were holding, but barely. If they didn’t find a way to break the Northern assault soon, they would be overwhelmed.

Then, in the distance, she saw it—a rider weaving through the enemy ranks, cutting down foes with practiced ease. He moved like a shadow, his strikes precise, his presence commanding. Even from afar, Selene felt something… familiar.

Who was he?

She didn’t have time to dwell on the question. A horn blasted across the battlefield, and suddenly, the Northern forces began to retreat.

Selene watched, breathing heavily as the enemy pulled back beyond the border. The battle was over… for now.

Aiden reached her side, his expression grim. “They retreated too easily. This isn’t over.”

Selene’s gaze drifted back to the mysterious rider, now disappearing into the darkness. She had a feeling Aiden was right.

The war had only just begun.

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