
The silence after Ashvardan’s words was crushing.
“You carry magic.”
Iva blinked at him, then down at her phone — still glowing faintly in her palm. Its cracked screen displayed the last thing she’d searched: Ashvardan — The Unyielding King.
“This isn’t magic,” she muttered. “It’s... complicated.”
Her voice sounded small, absurd, like a lost tourist trying to explain Wi-Fi to a medieval warlord. How did one explain smartphones, digital archives, or touchscreens to someone who thought fire was sacred and steel was law?
“You speak the tongue of Varesh,” Ashvardan said, carefully. “Yet your tongue twists words no one taught you.”
She swallowed. “I know this will sound completely mad, but I’m not from this world. I fell. Or time-traveled. Or... whatever the right word is.”
A few of the guards chuckled. One even made a crude joke in their native tongue. She didn’t understand the words, but the tone was enough.
Ashvardan, however, didn’t laugh.
Instead, he studied her with sharp precision — not like he was looking at her, but into her. She’d felt it before: in debate rooms, in front of professors, in front of people who thought they already knew what kind of girl she was.
“What is your name?”
“Iva,” she answered softly.
He repeated it, slowly. “Iva.”
“And your house? Whom do you serve?”
“I don’t serve anyone.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. She half-expected him to accuse her of lying — or treason. But he only murmured, “No one belongs to no one. Even the wind has allegiance to the sky.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but he turned to his men and spoke quickly in their language. Two stepped forward.
“Wait, what’s happening—”
They seized her arms — not cruelly, but firmly. One took her phone, which made her twist reflexively in protest.
“Be calm,” Ashvardan said, walking past her. “If you are harmless, you will be returned. If not…”
He didn’t finish the sentence.
“Okay, first of all,” Iva said, breathless as she stumbled after him, “this is literally a civil rights violation. I demand a translator, a lawyer, and my phone back.”
No one listened.
⟡
The journey to the palace was long, but stunning.
They passed towering white cliffs and forests that shimmered under moonlight. Small torches lit the path, their firelight gold against the darkness. Every breath of air smelled of spice, rain, and something faintly floral — a scent she couldn’t name.
As they crossed a grand bridge into the city walls, her heart thudded.
The palace didn’t just rise from the earth — it commanded it. Curved towers twisted toward the sky, their edges edged in sapphire and gold. Banners flapped in the wind, bearing an unfamiliar sigil: a flame wrapped in vines.
Even as fear churned in her belly, awe filled her chest.
This wasn’t a set. This wasn’t CGI.
This was real.
And she was right in the middle of it.
They brought her to a high chamber, carved with ivory and silver filigree. The room was oddly empty — no guards, no handmaidens — just a basin of water, a folded robe of crimson silk, and a narrow bed draped in velvet.
Iva stood motionless for a while, still breathing like she was mid-marathon.
What now?
No one told her what to do. No one even looked her in the eye.
Eventually, she changed into the robe, if only to feel less out-of-place. She folded her jeans and hoodie neatly on the edge of the bed and sat cross-legged in silence.
Her phone had no signal. No battery left. No use.
She stared out the window.
Three moons. Stars she didn’t recognize. A city breathing in the dark.
You’ve always wanted to escape, Iva, she thought bitterly.
So why does it feel like you're about to be swallowed?
⟡
The door opened without warning.
Ashvardan stepped inside — alone this time, no guards, no sword drawn.
He looked less like a king now and more like a man weighted by sleeplessness. His robe was dark blue, his hair slightly tousled. But his presence was still electric.
“I’ve decided not to have you executed,” he said plainly.
“Well,” she muttered, “I guess I should thank you for the royal mercy.”
He ignored the sarcasm. “My seers and spies are at odds. Some think you’re a mage in disguise. Others believe you were sent by our enemies.”
“Newsflash — I’m just a girl who touched the wrong artifact and fell out of time.”
His eyes didn’t waver. “Then explain how you knew those words. Fire remembers.”
Iva froze. She had spoken those words without thinking — a desperate attempt to not be stabbed in the forest. But she hadn’t expected him to recognize them.
“It was in a book,” she said carefully. “A rare one. Banned, actually. Written by one of your former commanders. I don’t think it was supposed to survive.”
Ashvardan stepped closer. His tone was softer now. “That phrase is not written anywhere. It was forged on the inside of my blade. Only I know it.”
Iva’s voice dropped. “Well... apparently, history forgot to erase everything.”
Something changed in his gaze then — suspicion tempered by a darker, deeper curiosity.
“Do you know what people call me in this world?” he asked.
She nodded. “The Flamebearer.”
“And what do they say about me?”
“That you’re ruthless,” she said. “A conqueror. A ghost king.”
Ashvardan raised a brow. “And yet here I am. Very much alive.”
She met his gaze. “Yeah. That’s the weird part.”
A silence stretched between them.
He studied her face — not with distrust now, but a strange intensity. A fascination, almost.
“You will stay here,” he said. “In the palace. I’ve assigned guards. You will be watched.”
Iva folded her arms. “Because you think I’m dangerous?”
He gave a half-smile. “Because I think you’re important.”
That unnerved her more than anything else.
“Tomorrow,” he continued, “I will ask you more questions. You will answer.”
And before she could speak again, he turned and left — leaving only the scent of sandalwood in his wake.
⟡
That night, Iva lay awake on the strange bed, staring at the carved ceiling above her.
She wasn’t dreaming.
She was in a different world. In a different time. And King Ashvardan — the mysterious, terrifying, strangely magnetic king — thought she was important.
Not because of who she was.
But because of what she knew.
And for the first time in her life… she wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse.
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