[POV Liselotte]

  The darkness did not st forever—but neither did it fade all at once. It wasn’t like waking from an ordinary dream, where the edges of reality slowly come into focus; it was more as if my consciousness were being dragged toward the surface of a deep, frozen ke.

  When I finally managed to open my eyes, I did not see the stone walls of the basalt quarry nor Leah’s worried face. What stretched out before me was an infinite horizon of pure white. But it was not the sterile white of nothingness—it was a ndscape covered in snow so fine and brilliant it looked like diamond dust. The air was cold, yes, but not the sharp, aggressive cold I usually summoned with my magic; it was invigorating, a gentle icy caress that smelled of purity and something I couldn’t quite identify—an aroma of wet earth and ancient life.

  I rose carefully to my feet, brushing snow from my hands. I remembered the st time I had been in a pce like this, when my ice powers awakened and I faced the absolute solitude of my own magic. But this pce was different. There was no desotion here.

  As I walked a little farther, my boots sank into the snow, producing a rhythmic crunch that was the only sound in that silent world. Then, in the middle of the vast whiteness, I saw it.

  Like a miracle in the desert, a small circur garden stood in defiance of winter. There were no walls to protect it, yet the snow seemed to stop right at its invisible borders. Inside, the ground was covered with grass so vibrantly green it almost hurt to look at, and hundreds of white and blue flowers swayed gently in a breeze that did not exist. They were flowers I had never seen in Whirikal; their petals shimmered with a light of their own, as if made of liquid crystal.

  At the exact center of the garden stood a small white wrought-iron table with two matching chairs. In one of them sat a young woman, her back turned toward me. Her hair was extraordinary—a cascade of strands interwoven in shades of emerald green and deep blue, flowing down her back like a river of moss and ocean. She wore a long white dress made of a fabric so light it seemed woven from clouds.

  I approached slowly, my heart pounding with a strange intensity. I felt that each step carried me farther from Liselotte and closer to something I had buried long ago.

  “Excuse me…” I began, my voice slightly trembling. “Do you know where we are? Who are you?”

  Before I could finish the question, the woman turned around. Her face possessed a serene, timeless beauty, with eyes that seemed to hold the reflection of entire forests and night skies. She looked at me, and instantly a radiant smile lit up her features.

  “Liselotte! You’ve finally arrived. I was beginning to worry about the interference from the rift,” she said, her voice sounding like the chiming of silver bells and the whisper of leaves in the wind.

  I froze. “How… how do you know my name? I’ve never even seen you before.”

  The woman ughed softly, full of enthusiasm, and with an elegant gesture invited me to sit in the empty chair across from her. “Oh, I know you far better than you imagine. Please, sit. We have so much to talk about—and so little time before reality comes to cim you again.”

  I sat down mechanically, unable to tear my eyes away from her. She studied me with an almost maternal joy, leaning forward over the table.

  “Tell me, Liselotte—how have you lived these years? Do you like this new world? What do you think of your new family and your companions? I’ve tried to observe you, but sometimes the fog is too thick, even for me.”

  A jolt of terror and confusion ran through me. Sixteen years? New family? The pieces began to collide in my mind.

  “Wait—stop,” I said, raising my hands. “Who are you? What do you mean by ‘new family’? And why do you speak as if you’ve been watching me since I was born? And how is it that you talk so casually about… about Edward Celium?”

  The woman sighed softly, and for a moment a shadow of sadness crossed her green eyes. “Ah, Edward. That name sounds like an echo from another life, doesn’t it? But the essence is the same. My name is Tiara, though in the pce where you were first born, I was more commonly known as Terra.”

  I gasped. “Terra? As in… the pnet? Earth?”

  “Exactly,” she nodded, her smile returning. “I am the spirit, the consciousness of the pnet you lived on before. I was your home, the ground beneath your feet, and the air in your lungs during your life as Edward Celium. I am not Gaia, the deity those men in white robes worship in Whirikal; she is a creation of this system, a local goddess. I am far older, and my bond with you is… special.”

  “I don’t understand any of this,” I murmured, running a hand through my hair. “Why am I here? Why am I a girl now? Why Whirikal?”

  Tiara extended her hand across the table, and though she didn’t touch me, I felt a comforting warmth radiate from her. “I chose you personally, Edward… Liselotte. When your life ended in my world, your soul shone with an intensity I could not allow to fade into the common cycle of reincarnation. I needed someone with your will, your adaptability, and your sense of justice to send here. Whirikal exists in a fragile bance—and you were the missing piece.”

  “You chose me…” I repeated in disbelief. “You threw me into this world full of demons and rifts without telling me anything?”

  “And I am truly sorry for that,” she said, her voice lowering, becoming more serious. “I wanted to speak to you from the moment you were reborn, but there are external forces in this world—ws and barriers that interfere with my ability to manifest. Whirikal has its own guardians and its own shadows, and my power here is very limited. Only now, with the opening of that great rift and the instability of your own magic, have I been able to create this small space for us to meet.”

  I stared at the garden’s blue flowers, processing the magnitude of what she had just told me. It wasn’t a twist of fate. It wasn’t a cosmic accident. There was purpose behind my memories of Earth, behind my new identity, and behind my meeting with Leah.

  “You say your power is limited here,” I said, looking back at her. “Does that mean I’m in danger? Why tell me all this now?”

  Tiara straightened, and the garden seemed to vibrate with her presence. “I’m telling you because the experiment they are conducting in the quarry has awakened things that should not stir. Your new family—Leah, William, even that little wolf, Chloé—all are bound to a destiny that you must now help shape. There are truths about the ice magic you wield and about the rifts that the Tower mages don’t even suspect.”

  “Tell me,” I pleaded. “If you brought me here, tell me what I’m supposed to do. I don’t want to be just a piece on someone else’s board.”

  Tiara smiled tenderly, but her figure began to grow slightly translucent, as if the dream were fraying at the edges.

  “You are not a piece, Liselotte. You are the hand that moves the board. But now, before you awaken, there are many things I wish to tell you—about why ice is your element, about what lies behind the veil of the goddess Gaia, and about the true nature of the rifts that are consuming this world.”

  I leaned forward, eager to hear every word, feeling the veil of my voluntary amnesia about to fall away forever. The garden of white and blue flowers began to shine with blinding intensity, and Tiara’s voice filled my mind—not as sound, but as pure knowledge.

  “Listen carefully, little Lotte…” she began, as the snowy world started to spin around us. “Because Whirikal’s time is running out, and you are the only one who can decide whether this pnet will become your new home… or your grave.”