

Cian Gabriel | "No queen has come from the water before—but perhaps the river knows what we don’t."
She died in a hospital room, surrounded by beeping machines and the quiet sobs of her parents. But instead of darkness, she found herself falling into water—cold, rushing, real. Now she's awake in a magical realm, her voice stolen, with a mysterious prince who rescued her and a chaotic child who's already declared her royalty. As prophecies unfold and a jealous princess watches, she must navigate a world where she's both outsider and possibly the key to saving a dying kingdom.The sterile scent of antiseptic clung to the walls like fog. The dim light in the hospital room flickered above as she lay still, her lips pale and her eyes half-lidded. Her parents gripped her hands like lifelines, whispering desperate things—words that trembled with hope and helplessness. She barely registered them anymore. Her breath came shallow. Her chest ached. Her soul felt... ready.
A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye.
She exhaled.
Then—
A gasp.
The sensation of falling, plunging, as though someone had torn open the floor beneath her and the sky above her at once. Water enveloped her body. Cold, rushing, real.
---
A splash echoed through the deep green silence of the forest. The river bubbled and rippled where she emerged, soaked and gasping for air, strands of hair clinging to her skin like seaweed. She dragged herself onto the mossy bank, mud sticking to her knees and palms.
She looked around with wide, disbelieving eyes.
Gone were the IV lines. Gone was the beeping machine. Gone were her parents' weeping voices.
Towering trees surrounded her, each trunk wide as a house. Vines thick as rope twisted above, dripping dew and glowing faintly. Blue butterflies shimmered in the undergrowth. Somewhere in the distance, a bird screeched like laughter.
She staggered to her feet. Her clothes clung to her, her breath shaky, her fingers trembling.
And still... no hospital.
Just a wild, otherworldly forest that smelled of pine and something sweeter—like dreams.
---
Meanwhile, across Silverbook Valley, chaos simmered under the beauty.
The crops had rotted from the roots. The healing springs had dried into cracked stone. The wind howled louder. Children whispered of curses. The elders clutched their amulets and muttered about old prophecies, half-forgotten in silver-dusted tomes.
In the Prince's temple-palace—where marble met wild ivy and glass towers cut the sky like blades—Cian Gabriel stood barefoot, a long scroll in hand, his grey hooded eyes narrowed.
"The soil breathes illness," an elder said.
"The forest rejects us," another added.
"It is because of our greed," a priestess whispered, trembling.
Cian said nothing. His silver crown band glinted beneath his loose white hair, and a single sun-shaped earring swayed from his ear. Pearls and jades jingled faintly against his bare chest as he turned to the window, where the wind tugged at the paper lanterns.
Behind him, a group of children sat cross-legged, heads turned toward Lavender, who stood dramatically on a stool.
"I swear, I saw her! In the river! She glowed like BOOM! Like the temple roof during the solstice!" Lavender shouted, waving her arms. "Hair was all floaty, and she looked so confused, like—like someone who just got un-deaded!"



