Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I'm Stuck as Their Baby!-Chapter 164: Empress and Flame

(POV Elyzara)

The dream took me like a tide.

Not softly, not like those sweet drifting dreams of floating through clouds or wandering starlit fields. No, this one dragged me under swift and merciless, like a rip current of memory I hadn’t known I possessed. Like something ancient had opened its eyes behind mine.

I stood in a chamber carved of obsidian and bone, lit by torches that burned with violet flame. Silken banners fluttered high above, each one bearing the sigil of a coiled serpent with wings of fire. At the center of the room rose a throne or perhaps not one, but two, side by side. One carved from flame-kissed steel, the other from polished black stone.

And I me, Elyzara stood draped in black and crimson robes, my long silver hair braided with strands of molten gold. A crown shaped like twisting horns encircled my brow. My hand was outstretched.

Holding it… was Velka.

Not ten-year-old Velka, not awkward, flustered, staring-at-me-like-I’m-a-confusing-math-equation Velka.

No. This Velka wore darkness like royalty. Her crimson eyes were steady, ancient, ageless. A flowing cloak of twilight wrapped her shoulders, and her lips curled in that same faintly amused smirk I’d come to know far too well.

But there was warmth in her gaze. Softness in the way she held my hand.

Before us stood a crowd of thousands demons, vampires, mortals, all kneeling beneath the vaulted shadows of the imperial cathedral.

"I bind my fire to your shadow," I said in a voice that wasn’t entirely mine. It echoed, old and powerful, yet intimate. "As Empress of Velmoria, I offer you not only my crown, but my soul."

Velka’s voice followed, low and clear, reverberating through the dark. "And I, Crown Heir of the Night Court, accept your soul with mine. Let the worlds burn or bow together, we rule."

There were cheers, explosions of magic, violet and crimson sparks bursting across the ceiling like stars.

We kissed.

And the fire in that dream kiss felt more real than half the things I’d touched in waking life. It seared something into me something that felt older than blood.

Then everything changed.

The dream twisted.

The throne room cracked in half. The stars bled black. And Velka my Velka turned from me with eyes empty of all warmth, blood dripping from her hands, a crown falling from her fingers.

"Why?" I asked. Not a scream. Just… broken.

Her mouth opened.

I awoke.

My breath came in shallow gasps, chest rising and falling like I’d just run across the kingdom. The palace bedroom was dimly lit by early morning sun peeking through drawn curtains, gold light pooling at my feet.

I sat up, trembling.

My fingers reached instinctively for my right hand where the black heart-shaped mark pulsed faintly beneath my skin. It had been silent for weeks. Dormant. But now, it throbbed hot and sharp, not painful, but awake.

I stared down at it, horrified and fascinated.

That dream hadn’t been a dream. Not entirely. It had the weight of memory, heavy with magic and regret. Like echoes of someone I used to be.

I closed my fingers slowly over the mark, heart hammering.

"System," I whispered into the quiet. "What was that?"

[You already know what that was,] the system replied, voice softer than usual. [That wasn’t just a dream. That was… a return.]

"To what?"

[To a time when your power was unchained. When you were Empress not just in name, but in fear.]

I swallowed. "And Velka?"

A pause. Then, [Bound to you. Always has been.]

"But why did she " I broke off, throat tightening at the image of her walking away, blood on her hands.

[The cycle repeats,] the system murmured. [Love. Reign. Fall. Burn. Again and again.]

"And we just… keep doing this?" My voice cracked. "Until what? One of us ends the other?"

[Until something changes,] the system replied quietly. [Until you both remember before it’s too late.]

I leaned back into the pillows, staring blankly at the ceiling.

The mark on my hand pulsed again hotter now. Like it was reacting to someone nearby.

I turned slowly.

And there, outside my chamber doors, I felt it her presence. Velka. Even now. As if my bones had learned her steps.

My heart thudded in strange rhythm, soft and electric. I whispered into the silence, as though confessing to the shadows themselves.

"What are we to each other?"

There was no answer. Not from the system. Not from the gods. Not from the fire or the past or the pieces of my soul that still remembered the crown and the kiss and the betrayal.

Only the mark, glowing softly in the dawn.

Still waiting to be understood.

I stared at the ceiling as if the answers might materialize among its intricate swirls of white marble and gold filigree. Of course, they didn’t. Ceilings, annoyingly, were notoriously unhelpful sources of advice, but right now, it felt easier to consult silent stonework than face whatever destiny or centuries-old romantic drama I’d been thrown into.

My heart had stopped hammering so aggressively, but the ghost of that ancient, burning kiss still lingered, clinging to me stubbornly like smoke on silk. I let out a frustrated breath, rolling over to stare out the balcony doors. Dawn had fully arrived now, flooding the palace gardens in soft golden hues. Birds sang cheerfully outside oblivious, as always, to my existential crisis.

"Thanks for nothing," I muttered at them irritably.

[Birds rarely possess helpful relationship advice,] the system commented dryly in my head. [Might I suggest you talk to someone actually equipped to provide insight?]

I scowled. "And who exactly would you recommend? My mothers? ’Hello, Queens, sorry to interrupt your breakfast meeting on world domination, but can we chat about my complicated feelings for a vampire princess I apparently married and betrayed in another life?’"

The system paused. [Hmm. Maybe not them.]

"Exactly."

But who else could I even speak to about something like this? Mara and Elira were loyal and protective but notoriously terrible at romantic counseling. Aria would squeal and attempt to organize some sort of disastrous magical intervention. And Riven stars, no. He would probably burst into uncontrollable laughter, then ask for detailed notes. freewёbnoνel.com

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. There was no avoiding it, really. The one person I desperately needed to speak with was Velka herself, and yet the very thought of confronting her about what I’d seen about what we’d been filled me with a brand of terror usually reserved for dealing with angry dragons or my mothers’ disappointed expressions.

And yet, I knew I couldn’t ignore this. My mark still hummed softly, a steady throb beneath my palm, as if urging me toward action. But action felt frighteningly undefined at this point. Did I storm dramatically to Velka’s quarters, kick open her door, and demand answers to our centuries-old lovers’ quarrel? Or did I try to pretend everything was perfectly normal that we were just classmates, just barely friends who might someday become more if the universe would kindly stop throwing us through endless loops of tragedy?

The second option seemed easier, but given how my life had gone thus far, probably impossible.

I rose slowly from the bed, gathering my robes around me. The marble beneath my bare feet felt cold, anchoring me slightly to reality. I hesitated by the door, suddenly nervous, heart hammering anew.

"You’re an Empress," I whispered firmly to myself. "You faced armies, angry mobs, and Riven before his morning coffee. You can face this."

[Self-affirmations? Really?] the system teased lightly. [Are we that desperate?]

"Quiet," I muttered irritably. "You’re not helping."

[When have I ever?]

I scowled deeper, opened the door and immediately collided with Mara.

We both stumbled backward. Mara’s eyes widened in surprise, then immediately narrowed in suspicion. "Sneaking off somewhere, Elyzara?"

"Uh…no?" I said weakly, scrambling for composure.

Her expression softened into knowing amusement. "Ah. Secret vampire-related drama, then."

I blushed violently. "How do you know?"

Mara sighed dramatically, throwing her hands up. "Please. Between you and Velka, the entire palace practically reeks of unresolved romantic tension."

"Not that I approve," came Elira’s voice from behind Mara. She stepped gracefully around her partner, silver eyes twinkling with restrained laughter. "But we’re hardly blind, Ely."

"Wonderful," I muttered. "Just wonderful."

Mara shrugged sympathetically. "Well, at least we’re consistent. You have your ancient tragic romance, we have our ongoing battle with locked doors and privacy."

I laughed softly despite myself. "True."

Elira’s expression gentled. "You look like you could use some advice."

I hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Maybe. But can you handle centuries-old romantic disasters?"

Mara smirked. "We’ve managed ours just fine."

Elira elbowed her affectionately. "Mostly."

They followed me back into my room, closing the door quietly behind them. I sat on the edge of my bed, twisting the hem of my robe nervously in my fingers, suddenly unsure where to begin.

Mara leaned against the wardrobe, arching an eyebrow. "Let’s start simple. Is Velka aware she’s been married to you in at least one other lifetime?"

"Possibly," I admitted weakly. "I had a dream vision? Memory? of us ruling together. Married. Powerful. And then…" My voice cracked slightly. "Then everything fell apart."

Elira crossed her arms, thoughtful. "Did you recognize the cause of the fall?"

I hesitated, my throat suddenly dry. "Velka betrayed me. Or at least it looked like she did."

Both their expressions turned grimly serious. Mara tilted her head slightly. "Or perhaps she was trying to prevent something worse."

I frowned, considering that possibility. The memory, vivid as it was, had been fragmented. Perhaps I’d misunderstood. Or perhaps the betrayal had not been as it appeared.

"Maybe," I said finally. "I honestly don’t know. And my mark the one I received from the black heart in the forbidden wing it’s reacting to her now. It’s like it knows her."