Book 1: Chapter 3 - Strength [Part 1]

"Not the adversity itself defines you, but how you respond to it reveals your true character. Just as the lotus blooms untainted from the muck and mire, so should you rise above life's challenges."

- The Book of Wise Tellings from the Land of Streams.

A feeling of dread came over her as she reread the Gift’s section of her profile. The Strength of the Old Ones—the so-called "Gift" Seraphina had been born with—felt more like a curse. All her life, she had struggled to keep her immense strength in check, a power that defied reason in the world she came from. But now, inhabiting the role of the Seraphina from the game, she was forced to confront it fully.

The situation was truly maddening.

Her gaze drifted to the bed, its soft, inviting sheets a siren's call to escape. But Seraphina hadn't come this far by giving in to comfort. With a sigh, she seated herself at the dressing table.

She ran a hand along the smooth, finely-grained wood, letting the reality of it all sink in as she admired the intricate craftsmanship. Every detail was perfect, a flawless recreation of the artists’ original designs. Was this real? Or had her previous life been nothing more than a prolonged dream?

No, that couldn't be… but what were the chances? Her hands tangled in her blonde tresses as an irrational irritation bubbled up within her. She could practically feel her blood pressure rising, a fierce urge to smash something taking hold.

Seraphina threw herself onto the bed, burying a muffled scream into the thick pillows. She punched the mattress in frustration, but when something creaked ominously, she decided to spare the innocent bed from further abuse.

It was all so ridiculous. What was she supposed to do?

She rolled onto her back, staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling.

The answer was simple. Despite everything, she had been given an opportunity. The game’s script might have dictated Seraphina’s downfall, but that didn’t mean she had to follow it—at least, not exactly. Certain changes could be made, certain people… edited out. She had the knowledge, the power, and, most importantly, the will to make it happen.

What use was there coming into a fantasy world if it wasn’t your fantasy? Heaven’s knew she was basically this game’s creator!

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Here, in this world, she finally had the chance to be what she could never have been before. She could be a queen, ruling over a country—and perhaps, who knew, the entire world.

Hugging a pillow to her chest, a cruel smile crossed her beautiful face as she relished the thought.

*****

Her wardrobe was going to be a problem, Seraphina thought as her maids helped her dress. Everything was… well, far too girly. Frills everywhere, mostly in light pastels. Still, each piece in her collection was of the finest cut and quality.

She noticed that Milly's hands lingered a little too long while adjusting the fabric around her waist. Seraphina shuddered. She remembered that Seraphina’s maid would be a problem—a potential traitor, no less.

"Leave us," Seraphina commanded the other servants.

They froze, bowed, and began to exit in unison.

"Not you, Milly," she added sharply.

Without warning, Seraphina backhanded the maid, sending her sprawling across the floor. A blow like that would have broken the neck of a normal person, but Miriam was no ordinary maid.

Two eyestalks sprouted from her face, wriggling in shock. Seraphina inwardly felt a spike of disgust.

"Milady Seraphina!" the creature—Miriam—protested, its voice an eerie blend of gurgling and high-pitched girlishness.

"You’re a monster, Miriam. A Palisa Slug, to be precise," Seraphina stated calmly.

The eyestalks froze, retracting back into her head as her eyes returned to their human appearance. Realization dawned on her.

"How did you know? My disguise was perfect!" Miriam asked, awestruck.

"Please," Seraphina scoffed. "I’m the daughter of an Oracle. Of course, I’d know."

"But… milady shouldn’t have the Sight…" the maid stammered, half-panicked.

So, the creature had some awareness of her limitations. It wasn't entirely wrong, but Seraphina hated being corrected. She forcefully kicked Miriam in the stomach, causing her disguise to falter as she writhed about on the floor in pain.

Seraphina looked down at the groveling maid. "Miriam, let me make this clear. I am not interested in women—especially not in creatures of a different species. However, out of respect for your many years of service, I will allow you to continue serving me. But remember, your life is in my hands," she warned sternly.

Seraphina crossed her arms. "Do not touch me like that again. Don’t even entertain such thoughts. Am I understood, Milly?"

"Y-yes, your mercifulness!" Miriam squeaked, pressing herself to the floor in submission.

A surge of satisfaction swept through Seraphina. A part of her felt liberated by the casual expression of violence, and now that she had headed off a potential problem, the creature would be useful. Now, she had to show a sliver of kindness to keep its loyalty. The carrot and the stick.

"Good. Now, help me with this troublesome button. And afterward, ask the kitchen to prepare an Adelberry pie. You may have a slice if you’re on your best behavior."

If she was to rule a country she would have to build a base of loyal followers.