Chapter 111

MILA

Death was not what I expected. I could still feel my heart beating, albeit slowly. The world was not dark, either. I was standing in a vaguely familiar field, the warm breeze tickling my neck and flowers saying at my feet.

Wait. I knew this field from somewhere.

My visions. This is what I had seen every time I had envisioned that medieval version of Felix. But my husband–my lying, traitorous husband–was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a different, female figure approached me. Slowly, the woman came into focus.

I gasped when I saw her. She looked exactly like me, down to the sprinkle of freckles across her nose. The only difference was her slightly curlier hair and her old-fashioned clothing.

She smiled when she saw me, and extended a hand.

“Come, Mila,” she said, in a voice that was my own, but lighter, somehow, more buoyant. “It’s time you learned the truth.”

SOFIA

I was born in a village in unclaimed territory.

Some wanted to claim us for Abernathy, some for Prazole. Kingdoms were starting to form around us, but our little strip of land belonged to no one.

No one, until I was sixteen and a band of knights stormed in. They were gentle and kind, and informed all of us in the village that we were being claimed for a new kingdom: Fresonia.

And thus, the kingdom was born.

We were all aware of the royal family’s special abilities: strength, speed, and of course, dragons. We were no strangers to magic in these parts. It was not unusual to see one of the great beasts flying overhead. The village midwife was a shapeshifter, and my best friend Alice was blessed with a siren song.

I myself had a gift of my own.

When I was a young girl, a great and powerful enchantress had arrived at my family’s cottage. She informed us that I was born with an ancient magic in my veins, and that it was my duty to protect all of humanity from the dark forces of magic that threatened their safety.

“You, Sofia, are the greatest enchantress who will ever live,” she said. “You just don’t know it yet.”

And with that, she disappeared.

As I grew, so did my power. At first, my enchantments started out small–boiling water with one touch, healing a broken bone with one brush of my fingers. But they soon grew much larger. On my sixteenth birthday, the day before my village was claimed for Fresonia, I rebuilt an entire home that had been burned down with merely a glance.

My fellow villagers viewed me with awe–and envy. No one quite knew how this power came to be in my possession, but all we knew was that I was trying hard to prove myself worthy.

I was out in a nearby field practicing my larger spells when I met him.

Samuel, the first King of Fresonia.

He studied my magical practices with a smile on his face.

“What is your name, girl?” he asked, his voice smooth as butter.

I gave him what I could only hope was a winning smile. “They call me Sofia.”

We fell in love almost instantly.

Samuel was also the first of his kind–the first to not only become King of Fresonia, but King of the Dragon Knights. His power was vast and his rule benevolent. The people loved him. They crowded at the castle gates, shouting his name, begging for his mercy to bless them with food.

When Samuel asked me to marry him, I agreed. I laid out a condition, though: I did not just want to be his wife, I wanted to be his queen. A true equal. We both knew I was the strongest magical being alive, and that there were many kings who would love to take me as their bride. Samuel did not hesitate to agree to my terms.

For many years, we were happy. I had yet to bear him an heir, but the people were happy and the kingdom was secure. I loved Fresonia deeply. She was my home, as much as my husband’s.

Of course, not all of the kingdoms were so peaceful. Abernathy, that stubborn neighbor of ours, was always causing trouble at our borders. The King of Abernathy deeply resented the fact that I had chosen to marry Samuel, and wanted to see me punished for my supposed crimes against him.

He coaxed Samuel into battle, over what should have been an ordinary territory dispute. What actually occurred was far from it.

Samuel was ambushed on his way to battle, jumped by mercenaries working for Abernathy. They beat him with clubs and poured a drug into his wounds that would slow his magical healing. When Samuel was brought back to the castle, his advisors looked at me with fear in their eyes.

“I can save him,” I promised. “I can right this wrong.”

His Head Advisor looked at me with fear and mistrust in his eyes. “Or we could kill you. Let that magical blood of yours heal the King.”

I backed away from him in horror. “Samuel would never allow it.”

The Head Advisor smirked. “We’ll see about that.”

The next day, I was sentenced to death.

I stood on a pyre, flames licking my feet, when Samuel approached me. He could barely walk or speak with his injuries, but looked at me imploringly.

I stared at the man I had once loved. With all of the hatred in my heart, I uttered three simple words: “I curse you.”

Samuel stumbled back in shock.

“I curse you and your bloodline,” I continued. “One day in the future, our souls will be in two different bodies and find each other once more. You will fall in love with me unconditionally, and then be faced with my death. A heartbreak of the greatest order. My revenge will come at last, punishment for you sentencing me to death now.”

Samuel’s voice finally came out, a tiny plea: “I did not ask for this. I came to fight for your life.”

Horror seeped into me as Samuel ordered the guards to quell the fire. He looked at me with haunted eyes. Once uttered, a curse cannot be taken back.

As soon as I was free, I fled. I did not say goodbye to my husband, to the love of my life, knowing how badly I had messed things up. I could not bear to look at him knowing what I’d done.

I went into the Dragon’s Teeth Mountains. My only hope for our future selves now was to put my confession in a book, along with all my knowledge of magic, and hide it away in hopes that it would one day be found. I created a library, storing everything I knew and loved in its shelves.

The Head Advisor had been right about one thing: I needed to die in order to save Samuel. In order to start atoning for what I had done

I could only hope that someday, my magical knowledge would fall into the right hands. I knew that my future self would carry my magic in her veins, and hopefully it would awaken in her as well. She could be even stronger than me, if she wanted to.

She was the only way to break the curse. Her magic was the key.

She just needed to know how.

I had one last task to complete. I returned to the village I had grown up in, where a young girl with great magical potential dwelled. I pressed a volume of spells into her hands and made her promise to protect the royal family for as long as she lived. Just as the enchantress had done for me.

I was about to leave when she tugged at my hand.

“What shall they call me?” she asked, with wide eyes. “My mother just calls me Girl.”

I gave what I hoped was a soothing smile to the girl. “Esmeralda.”

I returned to that field where I had first met Samuel and swallowed poison, allowing death to overtake me and the curse to activate.

I was able to observe a bit from the afterlife. I watched as Smauel–Felix–stumbled his way through life, until finally meeting me. Mila. I watched us fall in love once more, my heart aching as I realized what was ahead.

I looked in horror at the scene: my future life, Mila, once again being sacrificed to save Samuel’s future life. Only now he was Prince–well, King–of Fresonia. Felix.

As Mila drank the poison, I sent all of my power down the thin line that bound our split souls together. If there was any time for our magic to awaken in her blood, now would be it.

As she collapsed to the ground, my heart dropped. Was I too late?

But no–even as the royal family celebrated her demise, I could hear something faintly beneath the applause: a tiny heartbeat, quiet but steady.

Mila was alive.