Chapter 1: Ashes of the Divine
She opened her eyes to fire.
Golden flames danced across the marble floors, devouring velvet drapes and shattering crystal vases. Smoke stung her throat. The sky above was blackened, painted with ash and blood. Somewhere, a bell tolled.
One.
Two.
Three.
Three times. She had died three times now. And this time, she remembered all of them.
"Elira!" a voice screamed from behind. Urgent. Desperate.
But Elira Dawnmont didn't turn around.
She had stood in this exact place twice before. She had watched her family home—the ancestral manor of House Dawnmont—burn down to the bones. She had pleaded. Cried. Cursed. And each time, the same betrayal met her.
A prince's blade. A crowd's judgment. Her body, broken and cast away.
But this time…
This time, the gods had made a mistake.
---
> System Booting...
Welcome back, Divine Fragment: Elira of the Seventh Light.
Cycle: 3 of 13
Synchronicity: 14%
Penalty: Core System locked for 72 hours.
Objective: Survive.
Initiating Recovery Protocol...
---
Her breath hitched.
She wasn't just Elira. She wasn't just a noblewoman framed for treason. She was something more—something older. Something dangerous.
She was a Goddess. A fragment of the Seventh Light, cast down and reborn over and over again until she completed her Trial.
"Elira!" The voice came again—sharper now. Mari. Her handmaid. Loyal, kind, and foolishly brave.
Elira turned toward her. Smoke curled around the younger girl's cheeks, streaked with tears and soot. She was trembling.
"Your Grace, the soldiers—they're here. We have to—"
"No front doors. Not again," Elira said hoarsely. "We go to the crypt."
Mari's eyes widened. "But the crypt is sealed. It's forbidden—"
"I am the Dawnmont heir," Elira said coldly, her voice threading with the divine. "And this house is already dead. Follow me."
---
They fled through the eastern corridor, barely ahead of the chaos. The guards were already falling, one by one—cut down not by rebels, but royal assassins. Traitors in gold. The prince's personal executioners.
Elira remembered them well. They were the ones who had dragged her to the courtyard. Tied her hands. Forced her to kneel.
She had smiled at them then. The way she smiled now.
Because she was no longer afraid of dying.
They descended into the crypt just as the roof above caved in.
---
Cold stone welcomed them. Dust rose with each step. The ancient halls of the crypt stretched deep beneath the estate—lined with tombs, relics, and forgotten sigils. Only the direct heir knew the path. And Elira had once buried her father here.
Now, she buried her past.
She sank against a pillar, breathing hard. Mari collapsed beside her, shaking.
"Elira," she whispered, voice cracking. "What's happening? Why is the palace doing this? Why—"
"They think I'm a threat," Elira replied quietly. "Because I am."
Mari stared. "But... you're innocent."
"I'm divine," she corrected. "And they fear what they cannot control."
---
> System Notification:
Penalty reduced: 15 hours remaining.
New Feature Unlocked: Karmic Echoes
Divine Trial I: Reclaim Your Name
Objective: Prove your worth through deed, not title.
Reward: +1 Memory Fragment, +15% Synchronicity
Failure: Soul Rejection. Memory Wipe.
Timer: 7 days
Note: You were not born to kneel.
---
The words burned across her vision, searing into her soul.
Elira clenched her fists.
To reclaim her name, she had to act. But the people believed her a villain. The nobility saw her as a traitor. Even the prince—the man she once trusted—had condemned her.
So be it.
If they wanted a villain, she would give them one.
A villain who rose from death.
---
Cycle One: Flashback
"Elira Dawnmont, guilty of treason, attempted regicide, and sacrilegious sorcery. You are sentenced to death by fire."
She had knelt in chains, body bruised but back unbroken. The prince had stood before her, unable to meet her eyes.
She had looked up at him and whispered, "I curse you to remember me when your throne turns cold."
He had flinched.
---
"Elira?" Mari's voice broke the memory. "What now?"
"We rest," Elira said, standing. "Then we move to the chapel ruins. There's something I must find."
She helped Mari up and guided them through the lowest tunnel—one lined with forgotten saints and broken prayers.
---
The ruins lay at the edge of the forest, cloaked in ivy and moonlight. Once, the chapel had been a sacred site. Now, it was rubble.
But Elira knew where to look.
She stepped toward the altar—half-shattered, dust-covered—and placed her hand on the centerstone.
It pulsed.
A faint glow erupted beneath her fingers—silver and sharp, curling into the shape of a crown wrapped in thorns.
---
> Secret Unlocked: Divine Shard – Memory of the First Fall
Synchronicity +7%
New Skill Acquired: Truthsight
– See through lies and karmic bindings for 3 seconds
Cooldown: 12 hours
---
Power stirred beneath her skin.
She gasped, reeling slightly. This was her first step. A shard of her divine memory—recovered at last. She could almost hear the gods whispering.
Prove us wrong.
Rise, or be forgotten.
Elira straightened. Her eyes burned with a silver sheen.
"I will rise," she whispered. "And I will not rise alone."
***
High within the crown citadel, Prince Kael Thorne stood beside a burning scroll.
"Is it done?" he asked.
A knight knelt. "Yes, Your Highness. Elira Dawnmont is dead. Her manor fell. There are no survivors."
Kael turned to the window, watching the smoke rise.
And yet… a tightness gripped his chest.
"She cursed me," he muttered.
"Your Highness?"
"She said I would remember her... when the throne turned cold."
The knight looked confused, but Kael said nothing more.
He didn't know why he suddenly felt afraid.
***
Night had fallen. She stood atop the altar ruins, wind brushing through her hair. The stars above flickered like silent witnesses.
Mari slept behind her, wrapped in Elira's old cloak. Safe. Alive.
Elira stared at the moon.
Her system was awakening. Her Trial had begun.
Seven days to reclaim her name. Thirteen cycles to reclaim her godhood. And only herself to rely on.
But she wouldn't falter.
She was no longer the innocent girl who trusted too easily.
She was no longer the vengeful shadow who burned without thought.
She was Elira the Fallen Light—villainess, goddess, and survivor.
And the world would learn to kneel.