The past three days, every time I open my eyes, I see a ceiling patterned with elaborately carved tiles with some swirly motif. Why did they put so much artistic merit into a ceiling? It’s not like anyone specifically looks at the ceiling. What a waste of money. Even though it does make for a better view than white popcorn ceilings or beige tiles set with florescent lights upon waking.

And though it is a nicer view, a part of me still doesn’t want to admit the truth of the reason why I’m not waking to those florescent lights or beeping machines.

“Good morning, my lady. Are you still feeling sore?”

“No, in fact, I feel perfectly healthy. I wish to take a walk in the gardens.”

Amelie, who I now understand is my retainer and not a nurse, puts a hand on her hip and shakes her head. “Still a few days more of rest ordered by the good doctor Paris.”

I lived sixteen years of my life being unable to use my legs like a normal person and now that I have a fresh set of legs that work perfectly, I’m not allowed to move. Fitting. Just my luck.

“The king will arrive in three weeks. You don’t want to push yourself too early and be confined to bed while he’s here. You’ve only just recovered from a dire plague, my lady. It’s a miracle from the Mother of Us All that you’re still alive.” She places her hand on her cheek and chuckles. “Though I suppose a child like you would feel that way.”

I gnaw the side of my cheek and push my lips into a pout. It is acceptable to do that with the body of a seven-year-old.

First of all, I have no intention of living a life confined in a manor when an entire world to explore exists. Second of all, there are too many coincidences for comfort. This world has potions, nobility, and a religion centered around a mother goddess, just like Dragon Fantasy XXIV. The hardest boss in the game? Lucina. She dies, of course.

Now, game Lucina is an orphan who has the surname Aer. I don’t know how she ended up like that because the game never details the villains’ motivations outside of general evilness. Currently, I am only seven years of age, so whatever event that leads game Lucina to become a villainess could be in the distant future.

Of course, that future isn’t guaranteed now that the Mother gifted me with prophetic knowledge from my former life. Solution to becoming a dead late-game boss? Don’t be evil. Simple.

Sight. Smell. Touch. Hearing. Taste. All these combined into one single truth – this is my new reality now. How do I feel about this? How should I feel?

The old me, that sixteen-year-old girl with a bad heart and cancerous tumors riddling her lymph nodes, probably died in that hospital bed. Somehow, this fact doesn’t upset me. I lived on borrowed time from the moment I was born. Surviving to be sixteen is a miracle when you exist on borrowed time.

The one thing that’s hardest for me to accept is not my death, but never seeing Mama again.

But I know my medical bills were a burden. No one likes being on the phone all day fighting with insurance. Not being able to walk meant going anywhere was an ordeal. Without me, her day-to-day will be easier.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I wish I could have thanked her before I died. At least that. Thank you, Mama, for everything you did for me to try and give me a normal life with normal experiences. I know it must have been hard. But thank you for always smiling and never once calling me a burden, even though deep inside I know the truth.

The heaviness in my chest prompts tears to line the edge of my eyes. I fake a yawn in order to wipe them away.

“If my lady is bored, would she like to play a game?”

“Not unless the game is tag.”

Amelie’s brows quirk. “Tag?”

Tag doesn’t exist in this world, despite the concept of children chasing each other after a touch being the most obvious game in the world to play. Or maybe noble children think a game like that beneath them. If I had been born in the hero’s country, I probably would be a commoner living a simple farm life. Too bad that didn’t happen.

I have perfect legs, let me use them! -- is what I want to scream.

Yet, if I misbehave poor Amelie will be scolded by my parents. It’s happened before, in my memories of the life I held before I caught Ashen Scales.

Now that I technically house a sixteen-year-old mind, I couldn’t knowingly cause her to be punished. Three days. If I could do sixteen years, I could do another three days.

“What game were you talking about?” I ask, putting the ball back in her court.

Amelie opens the large wooden trunk at the foot of the bed. Several wooden toys are inside, but she pulls out a small metal box, elaborately carved with swirls that resembled flames. She taps the edge and the swirls light up with a golden light. The lid pops open, and for a brief moment she looks like she’s a golden statue. Four small glass balls are inside. She picks one up and twirls it in her fingers. An orange fire manifests inside the ball.

I scoot to the edge of the bed. “Wow!”

Her lips curl into a devilish smile. “Does my lady want to try?”

In the world of Dragon Fantasy XXIV, magick exists. No wonder kids never dreamed up tag! Why play tag when you can toss fireballs at each other? Upgrade! I grab the warm ball and roll it between my hands. A child’s fingers are too small to twirl them the same way Amelie does.

How does this magick thing work, anyway?

“Don’t be upset if you are unable to work it on your first attempt. You are only a child, after all.”

I purse my lips and furrow my brows. Fire!

Nothing.

Amelie’s soothing voice commands, “Focus on your core and imagine the element you want to contain in the ball.”

Any element? In that case, ice looks a lot more elegant in the game. The way the blue-green crystals blossom and burst into glistening shards always reminds me of gemstones and diamonds.

A tingling sensation runs through my arm. The ball remains the same temperature, but inside a single ice crystal about the size of a grain of rice appears.

Amelie sucks in a breath. “You did it! That’s wonderful, my lady!” She claps her hands. “And so soon after recovering from Ashen Scales, too. The great duke will be delighted to learn this!”

Her excitement fails to excite me. A grain of rice? That’s it? Pathetic.

Lucina is the hardest boss in the game, surely this body can do more than that!

I grit my teeth and push more of that tingly energy into the ball, trying to imagine the way the ice spells manifested in the game world. Start with a small shard, blossom into a flower, then send all the spike petals into the enemy!

The ball shatters in my hands and a cool mist slaps my face, fresh and sharp as winter’s breeze.

Amelie brings her hands forward and a soft whistle filled the air. The shards spin in a concentrated circle. She pushes the glass shards together and lays the shattered remains in the box.

“I’m sorry for breaking it.”

Amelie closes the box. “I am going to go speak with my Lord. Remain in bed. If you feel dizzy, be sure to stay still and close your eyes. If necessary, I’ll bring an ether.”

“Is that bad?”

The warm crinkles at the corner of Amelie’s large round green eyes reassure the tension in my heart. “You did nothing wrong.”

But now with the orb game gone, I am, yet again, in bed.

Alone.

Unable to do anything except lay down and stare at those swirling patterned ceiling tiles.

Good job, Lucina. Really good job.