Emily watched the baby laugh, take her first steps, run through the palace halls, trip and cry, then get up again.
Spirits followed the girl wherever she went, guiding her, guarding her. She wasn't treated like royalty. She was treated like family.
The child grew quickly in the dream.
She would sneak into the kitchens, get scolded by the old spirit cook, then sneak back in the next night anyway.
She would train with spirit warriors, laugh with playful ghosts, argue with the palace's librarian about bedtime stories.
The queen was always nearby, watching silently, stepping in only when necessary.
Emily didn't recognize these memories. Not consciously.
But her heart did.
They made her chest feel warm, full, and safe. Those memories were something she'd always wanted but could never remember having.
Until everything shifted again.
It was sudden.
The palace was gone. The spirits were gone. The sky above turned red, like it had been dyed in blood.
