[Exactly,] the system whispered. [And now we ask the real question… Who?]
That question had echoed endlessly, like whispers through a darkened corridor, for two long years.
Now, at ten years old, I'd become intimately acquainted with suspicion. The naïve princess who once believed herself invulnerable had faded quietly away, leaving behind someone quieter, sharper, more cautious. My silver hair, once tangled wildly with childish defiance, now fell neatly over my shoulders, braided elegantly to keep stray strands from betraying anxiety or fear. One blue eye, one gold, each now held careful scrutiny where innocence once lingered.
Even my magic had settled, shifting subtly beneath my skin from reckless tempest to controlled storm, ready to strike precisely where needed, never wasting a breath of power. I learned to think more, speak less. Observe quietly, act deliberately.
And that was how I had survived these last two years.
