2. A Deal with the Goddess of Wisdom

The transition was not a sudden snap, but a slow, sickening peel. I opened my eyes and found that I was no longer bound by the heavy pull of gravity. I was flying—or perhaps drifting would be a more accurate description. It felt as though my very soul had been severed from the tether of my flesh, a ghost untethered from its anchor. From my vantage point near the vaulted, gilded ceiling of the throne room, I watched the scene below with a detached sort of horror.

My physical form, the young body of Princess Caroline, had collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut. I saw the court dissolve into a state of sheer, unadulterated panic. The high-ranking ministers, usually so composed in their silken robes, scurried about like frightened beetles. The Royal Guard rushed forward, their armour clanking rhythmically, as they formed a protective circle around my slumped figure. My mother and father—or rather, the King and Queen of this body—cried out, their faces twisted into masks of grief that I now struggled to believe were genuine.

As I watched them gather, my soul continued to ascend, passing through the stone and mortar of the castle as if it were nothing more than mist. I climbed higher and higher into the cold, thin air until the entirety of the capital was spread out beneath me like a map. It was then that the truth began to claw at me.

From the palace windows, the kingdom looked like a jewel of order and prosperity. But from this height, with the eyes of a spirit, I saw the rot. I drifted over the dreadfully dilapidated village nestled just outside the castle walls. The hovels were little more than lean-tos made of rotted timber and damp thatch. But as I flew further, I realised that it was not just one village in such a terrible state. Like a spreading canker, every village across the horizon was in a state of ruinous neglect. I saw the thin, skeletal frames of the peasantry, the stagnant wells, and the blackened, failed crops. I was struck by an overwhelming sense of fright—not for myself, but for the sheer instability of this kingdom. It was a house of cards built upon the suffering of thousands, and it was teetering on the brink of total collapse.

"So, you have come at last… Please, follow my voice!"

The voice did not come from the air, but from within the very centre of my being. It was resonant, ancient, and possessed a weight that made my spirit tremble. I felt an invisible pull, a golden thread drawing me away from the wretched sights of the earth and into a realm of pure, blinding whiteness.

I followed that beckoning call, passing through layers of clouds that felt like cold silk, until the landscape shifted. The suffering of the villages faded, replaced by an endless, shimmering void. Standing in the centre of this nothingness was a figure cloaked in brilliance—a white silhouette that seemed to be composed of woven starlight.

"Who are you?" I asked. My voice sounded strange here; it lacked the vibration of vocal cords but carried the sharp edge of my concern.

"My name is not a necessity, nor is the nature of my kind a matter for your current understanding," the figure replied. The voice was neither male nor female, but as vast as the ocean.

"If you cannot provide me with your identity, then at least have the courtesy to tell me what it is you want with me," I countered. Even as a soul, the instincts of my former life as a civil servant remained. I needed facts; I needed a clear objective.

"You mortals are so remarkably impatient," the figure sighed, a sound like wind through ancient trees. "It is precisely why your kind does not endure. You are the mortal whom I have summoned to restore this broken land. You are the catalyst for the change this world so desperately craves."

"Summoned?" I stammered, my spirit flickering with agitation. "And what of my body? What have you done with the life I was leading?"

"Your physical form is quite safe, resting in a state of suspended animation. You must understand that time here is not the linear progression you know. A year spent within this realm is equal to a single second in your former world. You have lost nothing but a moment's breath. Now, let me put a question to you, mortal one: do you truly wish to restore this land? Answer me plainly. Yes or no?"

"And if I say no?" I challenged. "If I decide that this burden is too great for a stranger to bear?"

"Then I shall return you to your former world, and this land shall continue its descent into the abyss," the figure stated coldly. "But if you say yes, I shall grant you the collective information of this world—truths that no living man possesses. Furthermore, I shall bestow upon you a gift of power: the ability to see, speak with, and command all types of spirits that inhabit the elements."

I fell into a deep silence. A saviour? I had spent my previous life navigating the dry, grey waters of bureaucracy. I was Amelia, a thirty-three-year-old woman who had sacrificed her youth and her chances at love for a stable career. Now, I was inhabiting the fifteen-year-old frame of a princess. The choice seemed impossible, yet the images of the starving villagers remained burned into my mind. There was no 'Amelia' left to go back to—only a lonely apartment and a stack of paperwork. But here, as Caroline, I could be something more.

"I have made my mind up," I declared, my voice growing steadier. "I shall accept this task. I will become the rescuer of this land, your champion, or your apostle—whatever title you wish to bestow. If you believe I am the one capable of such a feat, then I shall accommodate that burden. I leave my old life behind; from this moment on, I live only as the Princess Caroline."

"A wise choice, mortal. I, Sagesse, the Goddess of Wisdom, admire your resolve. I grant you the power to control spirits. There are many such entities in this land, and you shall encounter them throughout your journey. Be warned: every spirit has a task for you. Only if you fulfill these requirements will they acknowledge you as their master. Furthermore, you must move with caution. Magic is an exceedingly rare commodity in this world. Should the nobility or the common folk discover your power, they will seek to exploit you. There are others—Gods, Goddesses, or even Daemons—who bestow power upon their chosen. Be wary of those like yourself; they are as likely to harm you as they are to help."

Suddenly, dozens of white figures appeared, surrounding me in a celestial circle. They looked up toward a brilliant light that had begun to descend from the zenith of the void.

"If you understand the weight of your vow…" The white figures began to draw together, their forms stretching and sharpening until they resembled a great sword of light hovering above me.

"FOR THIS DAY," the voice of Sagesse boomed, shaking the very foundations of the void, "I acknowledge you as my champion! I grant you the Haelend's sight—the power to see the unseen and command the spirits of the earth. I give to you the memories of this body and the hidden histories of this world. Go forth, Haelend—my healer and my saviour!"

The sword of light plunged into my chest. It wasn't painful, but it was overwhelming. A torrent of information flooded my mind—centuries of corruption, the depths of aristocratic greed, the chains of slavery, and the systemic cruelty of the very parents who now wept over my body. The Kingdom of Oakhaven was not a paradise; it was a prison. The sheer volume of the suffering I witnessed was too much for my consciousness to hold. My vision fractured, and I felt myself falling through a dark, empty space.

"The truth is a heavy burden," Sagesse's voice whispered as I plummeted. "But you will learn to carry it. I shall oversee your progress. I pray this land finds peace in your hands."

I bolted upright in the darkness, a strangled scream tearing from my throat.

"Arghhhhhhhhh!"

I was gasping for air, my lungs burning as if I had been underwater for an eternity. I looked around, my eyes darting across the familiar yet alien surroundings of the royal bedchamber. It was night, and the room was cast in deep, flickering shadows.

My body was in a state of total rebellion. My hands were shaking so violently I could barely clench them into fists. My teeth were shivering, clicking together in a frantic rhythm. It felt as though I had just looked into the face of death itself. I realised then that this was the physical reaction of the body I now inhabited; the young Caroline's soul had known the sins of her family, and that trauma was now mine to process.

The heavy oak door creaked open, and an old maid hurried into the room, carrying a silver tray with a plate of biscuits and a glass of warm milk. She stopped dead when she saw me, her face contorting with worry.

"Whatever is the matter, Your Highness?" she asked, her voice trembling with concern as she set the tray down on a side table.

"What is this?" I mumbled, my voice low and ragged. "What is this feeling? This... this horrible weight in my chest? Why am I here, in this place?"

The maid looked confused, her brow furrowing as she observed my frightened face and my shivering limbs. She sat on the edge of the bed beside me and reached out, gently grabbing my hands. Her touch was warm, a stark contrast to the icy dread in my veins. She offered me a beautiful, sincere smile.

"What do you mean by horrible, my lady? What do you mean about your existence?"

I stared at her, searching her eyes for any hint of the corruption I had seen in my vision. Was this smile a lie? Was she merely another piece of the kingdom's machinery of deceit? I knew the nobles were corrupt; surely the commoners and the servants must be filled with a secret, burning rage.

"Is it about your attempt to flee the castle earlier?" she asked, her hand moving to gently stroke my hair. "You are a Princess, my lady. A Princess must act with toughness. You must stand tall against the world."

The word "Princess" acted like a spark in a powder keg. I stood up abruptly, throwing off the silken sheets, and burst out with all the thoughts that were suffocating me.

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? IS YOUR SMILE TO ME A LIE?" I shouted, my voice echoing off the stone walls. "I have seen everything! I have seen the history of this kingdom, from the first sin to the current misery! Can you tell me just one truth? Is your kindness a mask? Is this the feeling of being a princess—to live in luxury while the world rots? I just don't understand!"

I stopped, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I saw the look of utter shock on the maid's face; it was clear she had never seen the girl act with such fury or despair. She didn't pull away, however. Instead, she patted the mattress beside her.

"My princess, could you sit down beside me? Please."

I felt the fire leave me as quickly as it had come, replaced by a hollow exhaustion. I sat down beside her, my head hanging low.

"I know this kingdom faces great problems," she said softly. "I know there is hunger and death beyond these walls. But when I see you acting like this—when I see your heart breaking for the people—I see a bright future for us all. You asked if my smile was a lie because you are a princess. That is not true. We smile for you because you are you. This very afternoon, you handed a towel to a maid who was too tired to stand, rather than demanding she serve you. We see your sincerity, and we offer ours in return. We hope our kindness makes you strong enough not to be blinded by your station."

I looked at her, my eyes welling with tears. I gently took her hand, a warm, genuine smile finally touching my lips. "I don't know what to say. I thought... I thought everyone here was a stranger to me. I thought I was alone in this nest of vipers."

She immediately pulled me into a tight, motherly hug. "Family is not always a matter of blood, Your Highness. I may not share your lineage, but I care for you as if you were my own daughter. If you have a problem, you must tell me."

In the safety of that embrace, the last of my Amelia-self dissolved, and I began to cry—truly cry—for the first time in either life.

After a quiet time, the maid gathered her things and prepared to leave. She blew out the candles, leaving only the moonlight to guide her.

"Goodnight, and have a nice dream, my princess," she whispered.

I lay back and pulled the heavy velvet blanket to my chin, staring up at the dark ceiling. My hands were still trembling. I pushed them against my chest, holding them tight to still the shaking. Tears continued to leak from the corners of my eyes. I looked toward the window and let out a soft, hysterical laugh.

"Haha... this feeling... this world... it makes no sense at all. Why am I laughing and crying at the same time?"

I got out of bed, my feet cold against the stone floor, and walked toward the window. The lunar luminance flooded the room, so bright it seemed to bleach the very air. I leaned my head against the glass and looked up. I had never seen an ocean of stars so vast, nor a moon so full and silver. It was a grace I had never known in my former world.

I sat on the window ledge, my hands still pressed to my chest, letting the cool night wind through the lattice relax my spirit. Eventually, my eyes grew heavy, and my hands slipped from my chest as sleep finally claimed me.

An hour later, the maid returned to check on me one last time. She found me there, curled up against the window. To her, I looked like a creature of myth—a beautiful princess with hair like moonlight, a silent promise of a better world. She carefully lifted me, carried me back to the bed, and tucked the blankets around me, convinced that the kingdom's saviour had finally arrived.