“You think I am not the Seraphina you know…” She saw her mother’s eyes widen, nostrils flaring with suspicion. For a moment, Seraphina felt like a fox staring down a hound. She needed just the right touch to make this lie flawless. “...because I am the Seraphina from the future. I could never fool you, mother.”

The shock in her mother’s eyes was genuine, her prepared accusations halted mid-breath. “What...?”

Seraphina couldn’t let her mother’s doubt regroup; she had to keep striking while the moment held. A single, perfectly timed tear slipped down her cheek, tracing a line across her porcelain skin. Seraphina was rarely one for displays of emotion, but she knew this was the moment to break that rule. She threw herself at her mother, wrapping her arms around her, pressing into her warmth as if drawing comfort from the embrace.

Now came the most delicate part.

“I can see the future only because I have lived it.” Her voice shook with just the right amount of pain. “I looked too closely into the past... and… I thought to send a message back to my younger self and I found myself here. I’m sorry... I’m so sorry. I only wanted to meet you again!” she wailed, her voice trembling. Well, it was partly true—she had always wanted to meet Anaselena, though perhaps not quite under these circumstances. Her mother was one of the more compelling in the game.

“You have to believe me,” she pleaded, threading her words with as much raw grief as she could muster. “Things changed... I changed. I am your daughter... please believe me. Or believe in what your daughter has become... please.”

She poured her heart into the words, summoning every ounce of desperation she could. Had she been in her old world, she thought, this performance would surely have won her an award.

“Oh, my darling… I’m so sorry… so sorry,” her mother sobbed, clutching Seraphina close, wholly taken in by the story. The Oracle in her could sense it—woven into the very fabric of Seraphina’s words, echoed something that rang true, however twisted. Her mother’s instincts told her to believe. “Please… forgive me. If only I had known sooner…”

The girl in her arms sniffled, her voice small and trembling. “I was just so afraid you wouldn’t believe me,” she murmured. “I came back to save you…”

“Save me?” Her mother’s voice softened, lifting Seraphina’s chin to look into eyes as green as her own.

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“Yes… because unless we stop it… you are going to die,” Seraphina whispered, her words cutting like a soft blade. “My brother will kill you.”

Anaselena recoiled, shock freezing her in place as she stumbled back, collapsing into a chair. “What… what did you say?” she gasped, the horror of the words sinking in. “My son… kill me?”

It was not entirely true. But it was close enough. Seraphina looked down at her mother—the proud, fierce woman now fragile, a dam of grief and shock finally breaking, flooding her with dread.

“The Sight can not show you what lies in the future of those who share directly of your own blood,” Seraphina pressed, her voice filled with solemn conviction. “Mother… my brother will kill you when he comes into this world.”

Anaselena shook her head, her voice a hollow whisper. “No… it cannot be… a daughter returned to me, only to bring such news…”

Seraphina knelt by her mother’s side, holding her hands, her gaze locked with Anaselena’s tear-filled eyes. “I cannot, I will not lose you, Mother!” she declared fiercely.

It was time to twist the knife, to let her tale reach its natural, inevitable conclusion. The end that she wished for twisted to her needs.

“I have lived the future!” Seraphina declared, her voice firm. “The de Aseracs, by the border with the people of the Grass Sea—they will be blessed with three children, two boys and a girl. You felt envy in a dream because you had not been so bountiful… I know this because I was there. You once confided this to me, in another place and time.”

The Duchess could only nod, stunned, unable to form words as Seraphina’s tale added another layer of veracity, blurring the line between truth and illusion.

“You don’t understand… even if it would take my life, I cannot take a son from Anatoli,” her mother murmured, her voice strained with grief. “A son is all he’s ever wanted.”

“You and Father are still young,” Seraphina replied, allowing iron determination to harden her voice. “There will be time for other sons, other daughters. If it comes to a choice between you and my brother, I will choose you. I will make sure that you live, one way or another!”

Anaselena looked up, her face pale, searching her daughter’s eyes. “And… this future—you’ve seen it?”

“No, Mother. With your choice, we step into a new path, one filled with possibilities.” Seraphina threw herself into her mother’s arms. “One where Father doesn’t seek death on the battlefield, and you and he are happy, together, for many years.”

Anaselena clutched her daughter to her, her heart, mind, and soul torn apart by the vision of a future she had never dared imagine. The girl spoke with truth—there was an unmistakable current of the unknown about her, something that clouded her Sight and stole away its usual clarity.

And for the first time, she was truly afraid. Her daughters words had affected her deeply. The child that brought her joy even as she threw up her breakfast, felt like an alien thing now, a parasite sucking away at her life and future… Still, Anaselena simply could not bear to make the difficult choice…