Book 1: Chapter 2 - New World
“Roses do not need to speak of their beauty, for they have always known that they are possessed of it.”
- Attributed to the Crown Prince Velens the Bold.
"My lady! My lady Seraphina!" A shrill, high-pitched voice pierced Seraphina’s consciousness, repeating her name over and over like an incessant alarm.
Blearily, she opened her eyes, gradually becoming aware of the soft surface beneath her. Yes, she was lying on a giant bed, as soft as a cloud. Stretching her limbs, she felt rested.
A slender girl in her late teens stood to attention beside the opulent bed, dressed in a maid's uniform. Her mouse-brown hair framed a pair of glasses that covered a button nose with a light dusting of freckles, and her expression was one of obvious worry.
"Milady Seraphina, you simply must get up, or you’ll be late for your lessons! The Duchess Anaselena was most insistent! Oh, I’ll be punished again!" The maid wrung her hands anxiously.
Seraphina. The maid had called her that. Suddenly, memories of a life she hadn’t lived began to overlay her own, as if she were recalling a character from a favorite book or play. The memories felt both deeply intrinsic and strangely detached, like a distant echo of herself.
Anaselena... was that her mother’s name? It felt both familiar and foreign, as though it was and wasn’t her mother’s name at once. And Seraphina—that was her name… yet it, too, felt oddly unfamiliar. But then, what was her real name?
A surge of frustration welled up within her, as if her head could burst from the conflicting thoughts. And then there was the maid—Milly, or perhaps Miriam, her new memories suggested. The maid was fussing and fretting, her voice an endless drone of concern.
Irritation flared, and she grabbed something from the bedside table—a water pitcher—and hurled it at the wall with great force. It crashed with a loud splash against the pastel walls, water and shards scattering everywhere.
The maid, Milly, leapt back in fright, eyes wide with shock.
"I am not well... I have a terrible cramp, and my head hurts... it might be a lady's time of the month!" Seraphina protested.
"Oh my! Milady Seraphina has begun her terms! I’ll inform the Duchess at once. Oh, by the Goddess, what a blessed day!" squealed Milly, the maid, clasping her hands with unrestrained excitement before darting out of the room.
At last, Seraphina, her own name feeling like a new flavor on her tongue, was alone, surrounded only by the song of morning birds and the cool breeze and sunlight streaming in through the windows.
Why on earth was a period a cause for celebration? Not that she was actually on one—the familiar, dull ache in her lower abdomen wasn’t there, spreading like an uninvited guest, accompanied by a weighty fatigue and that persistent, throbbing discomfort. No, her body felt rather light… lighter and more spry than it had been in a long while.
She reached up and touched her shoulders, surprised to find the usual tension absent. Odd. A long lock of hair brushed against her cheek, catching her eye. The color of it—shimmering like spun gold—made her scowl. That wretched maid must have dyed her hair into this garish shade, a flirtatious hue that would take ages to reverse... Yet she hesitated, her memories whispering that her hair had always been a golden blonde.
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Setting aside her anger, she took a steadying breath and glanced around, noticing a full-length mirror in the corner of the room. Its frame was crafted from silver and studded with emeralds, gleaming softly in the morning light. Unsteady as a newborn fawn, she crossed the room, her steps hesitant, unsure of the truth the mirror might reveal.
There, on the polished glass, a figure stared back at her—a frightened yet undeniably noble young woman, her wide, green eyes the color of emeralds, subtly tilted at the edges. Cascading locks of uncombed blonde framed an elegant, oval face, with an aristocratic nose and full, sensuous lips that spoke of innocence and allure intertwined. The only flaw was that the symmetry of her features was almost unsettling, too perfect, like a crafted illusion. Like a statue crafted by an artisan envisioning their ideal of beauty.
Seraphina’s gaze shifted to the slender figure in a thin night shift, softer than she remembered, carrying the youthful flush of curves she had never possessed. A smirk crept onto her lips as her eyes fell upon her fuller chest, and the stranger in the mirror smirked back, mirroring her own mix of curiosity and envy. For confirmation, she touched them out of curiosity. They were certainly not hers. Another wave of simmering annoyance washed over her.
She closed her eyes again, trying to sort through the tangled emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. And then, as if the world had chosen this moment to add insult to injury, something new surged into her mind.
Text and unfamiliar images filled her thoughts—layers upon layers of madness.
[STATUS] Seraphina de Sariens - Noble (Human lvl.14)
STR:
DEX:
CON:
INT:
WIS:
CHR:
LCK:
36
16
14
21
9
38
13
Health:
Stamina:
Mana:
Experience:
224/224
40/40
12/12
1200/1283
What was going on? More strange text like the cant of the maddened computer crossed her inner vision, searing itself onto her mind.
[Skills & Proficiencies]
Swords
(lvl.1)
Bows
(lvl.3)
Crossbows
(lvl.4)
Throwing Weapons
(lvl.1)
Dodge
(lvl.2)
Critical Hit Mastery
(lvl.1)
Improved Riding
(lvl.3)
Monster Taming
(lvl.2)
[Gifts]
Strength of the Old Ones:
+25 Strength
What was going on? More strange text like the cant of the maddened computer crossed her inner vision, searing itself onto her mind.Horror began to dawn on her as the weight of the situation settled in. Against all odds, the stranger’s impossible promise had come true. She was in ‘The Maiden of the Wisterias’ and in the world of Zed Valize—a computer game her company had meticulously crafted, funded, and would soon release. This was not some dream or glitchy VR experiment; every detail around her was hauntingly familiar. The bedroom of the character Seraphina de Sariens.
And Seraphina… Seraphina de Sariens was no mere side character. Daughter of the powerful Duke Anatoli de Sariens, she was the villainess of the story, the ruthless noblewoman who existed to torment the protagonist and meet a grim fate, her every action preordained across all of the game’s routes. The memories of her real and previous life warred with this new identity, but the world around her pulsed with this new and unmistakable reality.
The mysterious stranger had been right.