THE SHATTERED REALM: FORGOTTEN ECHOES

Aramith's eyes shot open, his chest heaving as he dragged in a desperate breath. His lungs felt like they had been emptied and left forgotten, his pulse roaring in his ears. He blinked rapidly, trying to process the blur of light and shadow around him. It took a few seconds before his mind caught up with reality—he was lying in his room, the familiar canopy of his bed above him.

His breaths slowed, though his heart continued to pound as if still fleeing from whatever nightmare had gripped him. His hands trembled as he reached out to steady himself on the edge of the bed. "It's over," he murmured, trying to convince himself. Yet, the vivid fragments of the dream clung stubbornly to his thoughts like shards of broken glass.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, the cold floor grounding him in reality. Before he could make sense of the scattered pieces of his thoughts, a soft knock came at the door. A maid entered with quiet efficiency, carrying a tray laden with food. She set it on the nearby table and bowed slightly. Another maid followed, placing fresh clothes on a chair.

"You'll need to prepare soon, Your Highness. The celebration is in an hour," the first maid said gently before retreating.

Celebration? Aramith froze. Of course, Lia's big moment. It hadn't been canceled despite everything. He rubbed his temples. There was no time to dwell on the dream, no matter how much it gnawed at him. He forced himself to rise, his movements deliberate as he dressed and readied himself.

Minutes later, he left his chambers. The corridors stretched before him, eerily quiet except for the occasional echo of servants' footsteps. He walked calmly, though the uneasiness within was discomforting. Just ahead, he spotted a familiar figure waiting for him.

"Lia," he called, relief washing over him as he quickened his pace toward her. The sight of her was soothing, though he felt something was off.

She turned, smiling the moment she saw his face. "Aramith! You're finally awake. I was about to come find you."

Before she could say more, he embraced her tightly, surprising them both. Lia laughed softly, her arms awkwardly patting his back. "Alright, alright, what's this about?" she teased, though her voice held a note of concern.

He released her, stepping back with a sheepish smile. "I… just needed to see you."

Her expression softened, and she looped her arm through his. "Well, come on then. We're late."

"We?"

They walked together, their footsteps echoing in the empty halls. The emptiness of the place unnerved him. Even during smaller gatherings, the palace was never this quiet. As they neared the grand hall, Aramith's unease deepened. The announcer's voice boomed ahead of them, loud and formal. 

As they were about to enter the hall, Aramith noticed something strange. Lia's smile, which had been playful, now seemed stiff. It wasn't her usual carefree grin. The announcer's voice echoed through the corridor once more, and he realized that they weren't supposed to be announced this way. Why was his name called aloud when it wasn't customary?

Something wasn't right.

"Okay, open the doors," Lia whispered softly. The two guards exchanged a glance before pressing their hands gently against the massive doors. With a low groan, they swung open, revealing the grand hall bathed in golden light. Orbs lighted the whole room like it was daytime.

"Princess Lia and Prince Aramith have arrived!" the announcer bellowed, his voice echoing across the grand chamber like a trumpet.

Aramith was caught off guard. He leaned toward Lia and muttered, "I thought this was your entrance."

Lia didn't meet his gaze, her smile unnervingly fixed. "Let's just go along with it," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the crowd's murmurs as their presence demanded attention.

All eyes turned toward the siblings as they crossed the threshold. The grand doors closed behind them with a resounding thud, sealing them in the center of countless stares.

Lia sighed, masking her discomfort with a casual, "Well, let's get this over with." She extended her arm toward Aramith with an air of practiced elegance.

For a brief moment, he hesitated. He could feel the weight of countless gazes, scrutinizing their every move. Reluctantly, he looped his arm through hers, forcing a small smile. Together, they began their ascent toward the king and queen, each step reverberating against the polished marble floor.

As they walked, Aramith subtly scanned the room. Using the corner of his eye, he identified the representatives of various kingdoms. Their attire bore the unmistakable colors and insignias of their lands, making it easy for him to mentally note who was present. He could also feel the daggers people glared at him. They hated him and he could easily tell even though they masked it with fake smiles.

Yet, even as he observed, his attention kept drifting back to Lia. Something about her was... wrong. Her smile—though outwardly perfect—felt cold, like a fragile mask she was struggling to maintain. The stiffness in her demeanor, the way her eyes didn't quite meet his, set off alarms in his mind.

The announcer's decision to place him in the spotlight further fueled his unease. He wasn't meant to be highlighted like this. Why hadn't their parents intervened? Henndar, especially, would typically have made some remark or offered a reassuring smile. But both their parents stood silently at the top of the stairs, their expressions unreadable.

The unease gnawed at him, growing with every step. Something was off.

Just as they reached the final step, it hit him like a thunderclap.

"Mozrael," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Lia turned her head slightly toward him, her polite smile still in place. "What?"

"Mozrael," he repeated, more insistently this time. "Where is she?"

Lia blinked, her expression faltering for a fraction of a second before she recovered. "Mozrael?"

"Yes," he said, his heart pounding. "I haven't seen her since I woke up. Where is she?"

Lia's brow furrowed as she mulled over his question.

Their mother, catching sight of Lia's expression, asked, "What's wrong, Lia?"

Aramith cut in before Lia could answer. "Mozrael. Where is she?" he demanded, his voice rising slightly.

The queen tilted her head, her eyes narrowing in confusion. "Who's Mozrael?"

The words hit Aramith like a physical blow. "What?" he breathed, his legs weakening beneath him.

He staggered backward, his mind reeling. How could she—how could anyone—forget Mozrael? It was impossible.

Distracted, he lost his footing and tumbled down the stairs. Gasps echoed in the hall as he hit the floor with a thud.

Lia rushed to his side, helping him up. "Are you alright?" she asked, her tone layered with genuine concern.

"I'm fine," he managed, though the pounding in his head told a different story. He looked up at her—and froze.

Her face was wrong. Her eyes glittered with malice, and her lips curved into a grotesque grin. Blood stained her gown, dripping onto the marble floor.

"Who are you?" he stammered, his voice trembling.

"What do you mean?" Lia's voice was normal again, her face suddenly unblemished.

Aramith blinked, shaking his head. His vision warped; one moment, Lia was pristine, and the next, she was drenched in blood. The oscillation between the two filled him with dread.

"Something's wrong," he whispered to himself, backing away.

Lia stared at him and tilted her head to the side. 

He watched in horror as her head continued to tilt and with snapping sounds, turned upside down, her neck looking like a cloth that was being wrung to remove water. Blood dripped from her lips and her eyes turned black. Aramith was frozen, his body didn't move. He could already imagine how pale his face had become with fear. 

"What-"

Aramith!" Lia suddenly called again and her face became normal once again.

"No, don't come closer."

Now all eyes were on him.

Am I going insane?