The silence that followed the Jubilee was heavier than the noise of the celebration itself. Riha lay in her massive obsidian bed, the violet studded hairpin resting on her nightstand, glinting in the pale moonlight. She tossed and turned, her mind a chaotic whirlwind of silver eyes, emerald scales, and the bittersweet weight of a crown. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt the phantom sensation of Xaris's power—a reminder of how small her world truly was. Sleep did not come; only a restless, shallow trance that left her more exhausted than when she had laid down.
The Morning of Farewells
When the triple suns finally rose, the palace gates became a theater of departures. The air was crisp, filled with the neighing of shadow-steeds and the low hum of departing airships.
Prince Helios and Prince Kaelen stood by their respective carriages, their elemental guards at attention. For once, the rivalry between them seemed muted by a shared realization. They approached Riha together.
"We came here thinking we could win a prize," Helios said, his golden eyes reflecting the morning light with a new, somber maturity. "But you aren't a prize to be won, Riha. You are a sun in your own right."
Kaelen nodded, his frost-blue silks rustling in the wind. "We cannot marry you as we are now. We would only be shadows in your light. We are going back to lead our empires, to ensure that the peace we've built here becomes eternal. We will become worthy of being your allies, if not your equals."
Riha offered them a rare, genuine smile, shaking their hands. "Lead well, Princes. The world is watching."
As they departed, a ripple of starlight distorted the air behind her. Xaris stood there, his long black coat billowing. He didn't say a word at first; he simply took her hand and, with a grace that felt ancient and cosmic, pressed a lingering kiss to the back of her knuckles.
"Remember what I told you, little fox," he whispered, his silver eyes burning with a promise. "The sandbox is empty now. I am waiting for you in the stars. Don't make the constellations wait too long."
With a flash of silver light, he was gone, leaving only the scent of ozone and a lingering warmth on her hand.
The Cold Departure
The most unsettling farewell, however, was Nalani.
The healer stood beside Prince Viperis, her hand resting on his arm. Riha stepped forward to embrace her best friend, expecting tears or a long, sentimental goodbye. But as Nalani pulled back, Riha froze.
Nalani's eyes, once so full of warmth and medicinal light, were cold. They were expressionless, like two polished stones at the bottom of a dark well. She didn't cling to Riha; she didn't even seem to see her. She looked like a puppet whose strings were being pulled by an invisible hand.
"I will see you again, Riha," Nalani said, her voice monotone and hollow.
Viperis smiled, his slitted amber eyes glinting with a triumphant secret. "We have a long journey to the Snake Islands. We must depart."
Riha watched them go, a knot of dread forming in her stomach. She wanted to reach out, to stop them, to demand what he had done to her friend—but the protocols of diplomacy and the sheer exhaustion of the week held her back. She convinced herself it was just the stress of the move. She was wrong.
The Weight of the Diary
The rest of the day was spent in a blur of administrative duty. Riha threw herself into the work, supervising the cleaning of the palace and the restoration of the capital's central plaza. She met with Lyra and Caspian—who were now inseparable—to finalize the new security budget.
By the time night fell again, the palace was pristine, the guests were gone, and the silence was absolute.
Riha retreated to her chambers and sat at her desk. She opened a leather-bound diary, her pen scratching against the parchment as she recorded everything: the duels, the revelations of the Galaxy Level, Xaris's promise, and the unsettling coldness in Nalani's eyes. Writing it down felt like a release, a way to ground her soul back into the earth.
Finally, she drifted into sleep. But it was not the peaceful rest she had hoped for.
The Vision of the Falls
The dream was a symphony of blood and iron.
Riha found herself standing in the middle of a ruined city, but it wasn't the Homeland. The architecture was impossibly tall, made of a white stone that sang with power. But the streets were choked with corpses. Massive, chimerical monsters—beasts with too many eyes and limbs made of shifting void—tore through the buildings.
She heard the sound of thousands of people crying out, a wail of despair that vibrated in her very marrow. In the center of the chaos, a voice cut through the screams. It was ancient, melodic, and held a resonance that made Riha's mana core pulse in recognition.
"Riha..."
The scene shifted. The fire and blood vanished, replaced by the roar of water. Riha stood on a cliff overlooking a gargantuan waterfall that defied the laws of physics, the water falling upward into a swirling nebula.
Standing at the edge of the falls was a silhouette—a woman draped in robes of shifting light.
"I am from the Ancient Civilization... the one that came before the stars were named," the voice echoed. "I have waited for an era to find a soul with your frequency. I am waiting for you, Riha. Come to the Falls of the First Breath. The universe is dying, and you are the only key left."
The Panic of the Sovereign
Riha bolted upright in bed, her skin drenched in a cold sweat. Her heart was hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
Immediately, Ignis and the Twins manifested in the room, their weapons glowing with defensive light.
"Master! What happened?" Ignis asked, his crimson eyes scanning the shadows of the room.
Riha took a ragged breath, clutching her chest. "A dream... no, a vision. The Ancient Civilization. A woman at the waterfalls. She said she's waiting for me."
She looked at her hands, which were trembling. The peace she had felt just hours ago was gone, replaced by a sense of urgency that felt like a physical weight.
"Ignis, prepare the archives," Riha said, throwing back the covers and heading for the washbasin. "We aren't just managing a kingdom anymore. I need to know where those waterfalls are. The Stars can wait—there is something older calling my name."
As she splashed cold water on her face, the "Villainess" was gone. In her place stood a woman who had just realized that the Galaxy Level was only the beginning of a much deeper, much more dangerous truth.