Embers of the Past

Chapter 1

"The Beginning of the 7th Loop"

Lyra awoke with a start, her chest heaving as she gulped for air. The familiar scent of lavender and aged wood filled her nose-a sharp contrast to the stench of smoke and blood that had filled her lungs in her last moments. She lay perfectly still for a moment, her mind spinning in disarray. Where was she? The stone floor beneath her body was gone, replaced by something soft and warm. She lifted her hand to her face, expecting to see the battle-worn fingers of her past life, but instead, they were small-childlike.

She sat up quickly, her heart racing. Her hands, smooth and unscarred, trembled as she ran them over her body. A long, dark braid fell over her shoulder, tickling her face. Slowly, the pieces of her surroundings began to make sense. She was in a room she knew well-her childhood bedroom.

The soft, cream-colored canopy above her bed, the large arched windows that overlooked the gardens, and the elegant furnishings all brought back memories from long ago. This room had been hers when she was eight years old. Her seventh life. The beginning of it all.

The realization hit her like a punch to the chest. She had returned. Again.

"No..." she whispered, her voice cracking. She gripped the edge of the bed with both hands, fighting to control the rising panic. She had hoped-prayed-that the light she'd seen in her final moments meant the cycle was broken. But here she was, back at the very beginning.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. Crying wouldn't help. It never had. This was her seventh time waking up in this world, and the pain of her countless deaths had hardened her heart long ago.

She slid off the bed, her small feet touching the cool wooden floor. As she stood, she caught a glimpse of herself in the tall mirror across the room. The reflection staring back at her was that of a young girl with wide, hazel eyes and dark hair-a face she hadn't seen in what felt like an eternity.

For a long moment, she simply stared at herself, a bitter taste in her mouth. How many times had she tried to change her fate? How many times had she failed?

"This time will be different," she muttered, though the words felt hollow. She had made the same vow six times before, and each time had led to her death.

A knock at the door startled her from her thoughts.

"Lady Lyra?" A soft, familiar voice called from the other side. "Are you awake? It's nearly time for breakfast."

Her heart lurched. It was Elara, her maid. Sweet, loyal Elara, who had served her in every life. She had watched Elara die more times than she cared to remember-poisoned, stabbed, hanged. The thought made her sick. This time, she would keep Elara safe.

"I'm coming," Lyra called back, her voice steadier than she felt. She took one last glance at herself in the mirror before crossing the room and opening the door.

Elara stood there, just as young and fresh-faced as she always was in the beginning. She smiled warmly, holding out a tray with a fresh dress laid across it.

"Your mother requested you wear this today, my lady," Elara said, her voice gentle. "She's eager for you to join her in the dining room."

Lyra nodded, accepting the dress without comment. Her mother. Lady Morgana-an unyielding woman, and one of the many forces that shaped Lyra's early lives. Each loop, her mother's expectations weighed heavily on her, forcing her into decisions that often led to her downfall. This time, Lyra would handle things differently.

As she dressed, her mind raced with possibilities. This was her seventh life. Seven. That number had to mean something. Maybe this time, the universe was giving her a final chance-a way to break free once and for all. She couldn't waste it.

After slipping into her dress, Lyra stepped out of her room and followed Elara down the long corridor toward the dining hall. The manor was as grand and imposing as she remembered, with high ceilings and ornate tapestries that lined the walls. It was strange to see it all again, untouched by the ravages of war that had destroyed it in her previous lives.

As she walked, her thoughts swirled. What had she missed in her past lives? What was the truth she needed to uncover to break the cycle? She had tried everything-politics, alliances, even ancient magic-but nothing had worked.

The memory of the voice from her final moments returned to her. *You must remember... only when you understand the truth can you break the cycle.*

The truth. What truth? And how could she possibly find it when everything she had done so far had led her to the same fate?

The dining hall came into view, and Lyra forced herself to focus. She had time-time to figure this out, time to make new plans. But first, she had to survive long enough to reach the answers she sought.

As she entered the room, her mother, Lady Morgana, sat at the head of the long, polished table, a stern expression on her face as always. Beside her sat Lyra's father, Lord Ashford, whose kind eyes flickered with warmth when he saw his daughter.

"Good morning, Lyra," her mother said, her tone sharp but not unkind. "You're late. Again."

Lyra smiled tightly and took her seat at the table. This scene had played out a hundred times before, but now, she saw it with new eyes. Every word, every gesture-she analyzed it all, searching for anything she might have missed in her previous lives.

As they ate, her mother spoke of court matters-an upcoming ball, a political alliance with a neighboring house, and the usual talk of who was rising in power and who was falling. Lyra listened carefully, storing away every detail. In her first life, she had dismissed these conversations as dull. Now, she knew that every piece of information could be vital.

Halfway through the meal, her father spoke up. "There is one matter I must discuss with you, Lyra," he said, his voice calm but firm. "You are nearing the age where you will need to begin making decisions about your future. We have had several offers of marriage from prominent families..."

Lyra's grip on her fork tightened, but she kept her face neutral. This was one of the many traps she had fallen into before-marriage alliances that had led to betrayal and death. She would not make the same mistake again.

"I will consider the offers carefully, Father," she said, her voice steady. "But I would like some time to focus on my studies before making any commitments."

Her father raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by her response. In her past lives, she had either rushed into marriage or rebelled against it outright. This time, she would bide her time, making no promises until she understood what truly lay ahead.

Lady Morgana pursed her lips but said nothing, merely nodding in approval.

As the conversation moved on, Lyra felt a spark of hope. She was different now-smarter, more experienced. She had lived through six lifetimes, and she would use everything she had learned to make sure this time ended differently.

The truth was out there, hidden somewhere within this twisted cycle. And this time, she would find it. She would break the loop.

As Lyra sat at the table, a quiet determination settled over her. This was her seventh life, and she would make it her last.