Royal Reboot: Level up, Your Majesty!-Chapter 108: Blink

Blink.

And Eydis was back in Mythshollow: twisted oaks overhead, a sky that couldn’t pick a side between insomnia and blackout. Nothing fit, which felt about right.

On second thought, why?

She prowled past tree after identical tree until her muscles swore she had walked for hours. Time worked differently here. Lust had confessed that Astra had been forced through a hundred-plus dreams while only fifteen Earth-minutes had passed since Eydis raced to the warehouse.

Her ravens had already woven a cage of shadow around Lust’s helpless panther avatar somewhere far away.

So again… why Mythshollow?

The dream should have belonged to Astra alone; Lust had no leverage in a lucid mind. That left only one plausible answer.

This vision was Astra’s memory.

The thought nailed her heels to the mud. Thunder punched her ribs from the inside, and rain followed, real rain, in a realm that never bothered with weather.

Dreams or memories? The scent of damp earth, the numbing chill soaking her gown were too vivid, too real to be dreams half-woven from truth.

She stared upward, cold water slicking her cheeks, confusion sparring in her head. What if… she was Pride? How could Pride overpower its master? She had leashed it.

Unless Pride had copied her face, reached Astra first, and somehow prevailed against the Saintess alone.

The equilibrium said no, said impossible, said forget it, yet the headache blooming behind her eyes insisted that something fundamental had been forgotten.

An icy wind sliced sideways through the drizzle. Through the gray haze, a figure slid forward. The woman glided, her gaze a slow-burn fuse, her silver hair waterfalling in strands too fine to be real. That felt about right too.

Because naturally, it was Astra.

Her Astra, or Lust in cosplay? When had Astra ever stared at her with hatred that sharp?

Eydis shortened the distance in a single heartbeat. Shadows unspooled from her fingers, knitting into a dagger carved from the absence of stars. She rested its edge against the woman’s throat.

“Who are you?” Her senses sharpened, yet there was no burnt-sugar scent of Lust. Only sandalwood and cardamom.

Astra.

“You’re real,” Eydis breathed. Her thoughts spun wildly.

How had Astra ended up in Mythshollow? Why?

When had everything fallen apart?

It was all her fault. And now, it was hers to fix.

The dagger trembled, just slightly.

“You…” Astra growled. Her own blade, carved from light, now leveled at Eydis’s throat. “You lied to me. You’re lying now.”

Which lie? Name, title, promise that she was never Pride, that Astra was never Saintess?

Eydis froze, lips parted, words about to form, none good enough, so she let them go.

The blade pressed, drawing a neat line of red. Eydis’s blood balanced at the dagger’s point before dropping.

Drip.

Tears and rain collected on Astra’s lashes. She blinked them away.

Drip.

Eydis had never figured out how to soothe Astra when she cried. Each time something inside her split, because somehow she always caused the tears.

She slid her bare fingers along Astra’s radiant blade. Flesh hissed, blood pearled. The pain anchored her.

Astra jerked. “What are you—”

“Listening,” Eydis spoke so softly the word almost evaporated between them.

She leaned in and brushed a feather-light kiss across Astra’s trembling mouth, tentative, pleading. Doubt lingered, so she traced the damp curve of Astra’s cheek, stealing tears like crystals.

“I promised myself I’d hunt down anyone who made you cry,” she murmured, glancing at her own bloodied hand. “Seems the culprit is uncomfortably close.”

Astra’s eyes flickered from anger to something raw and searching. “Are you really… her?” The uncertainty trembled in every syllable.

Eydis kissed her again, slower, letting Astra feel the tremor in her breath. Hesitant hands slid up Eydis’s spine, then clenched the soaked fabric of her dress.

Surrender.

“I’m here. I’m real,” Eydis whispered against trembling lips.

And that was her undoing.

Astra recoiled; the entire forest tilted with her distrust. A joyless, wounded laugh escaped her. “New play, recycled lines, Lust. Repetition will not turn lies into truth.”

Lies?

Understanding crystallised, like puzzle pieces clicking into place.

This had been Lust’s gambit. To sell the illusion, it had borrowed Eydis’s face.

Oh.

I am the lie.

Eydis caught Astra’s wrist, guided cold fingers to her cheek. “You can exit the dream,” she said. “Let’s go home. To your safe place.”

Astra yanked free. “Don’t you dare. You said if I leave, Eydis’s consciousness dissolves without an anchor.”

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“I am Eydis, Astra.” She pressed their foreheads together. “We’ll go home together.”

Conflict written across Astra’s face.

Eydis continued, “I miss the pancakes you fussed over for an hour, the carbs you cut because you noticed my dislike, the sashimi you pretended to enjoy just for me. Our kisses tasted of summer berries. I want all of it again. I want you.”

Shock widened Astra’s eyes. “How did you know—” The whisper turned louder, angrier, broken. “How do you know that?”

One heartbeat later the forest walls shattered and Astra vanished. Night folded in on itself, constellations spilling across a black tide.

Eydis drifted within that tide. She was both dreamer and dream. Worlds unfurled before her, each face reflecting colours beyond naming; laughter rang across distances. She witnessed a realm so bright, so pure, that legends called it the Celestial Empire.

Through the sensory flood she caught something ordinary and shy: coffee. Its aroma trailed across the void like an invisible string, and her body followed before thought could form.

Blink.

Eydis stood alone in the kitchen she knew by heart.

The French press hissed as boiling water seeped through grounds, filling the air with the fruity bite of Arabica. A skillet crackled with pancakes that refused to burn.

Eydis stepped through Astra’s safe place, calling her name. Silence answered.

Upstairs, silk sheets, a fur throw, and a book abandoned facedown on a day-bed waited in Astra’s room; the guest room mirrored the perfection, and the emptiness.

She lifted the window, dropped soundlessly onto the garden path, and crossed to the glass-walled greenhouse.

Inside, tropical leaves, ropes of vine, and pungent herbs pressed against chilly panes and barks. Astra never cared for blossoms.

“Flowers,” Astra once said, “blaze, die, then beg you to sweep up their ashes.”

The line had amused Eydis then; it amused her now. The former Queen of Shadows had preached the same philosophy.

However, near the inner door, a lavender tide rippled in artificial wind.

That is new.

Eydis let the stalks slip over her knuckles. Under its perfume lingered a second note: her own scent.

Her chest tightened. One long breath. Her free hand closed around a hilt, and a black blade flickered awake, level with the lavender.

No threat spoken aloud, yet the air crackled.

A presence stepped in behind her. Static lifted her hair. A diamond-bright edge skimmed her neck, cold enough to burn.

“You never give up,” Astra said coldly.

Eydis’s grin tilted, mischievous. She turned until the longsword’s point rested in the hollow of her collarbone, baring her neck.

“You planted lavender,” she said softly. “Don’t tell me you mean to disappear here forever.”

Astra’s grip twitched. Crimson eyes darted away before snapping back, harder now, more guarded.

“I’ll stay until the last of you is gone from my head. You’ve rooted yourself in me. I won’t let that poison grow.”

“Lust is already locked away,” Eydis insisted. “Stay longer and it is your own thoughts that will fester.”

“You fed me that line too.”

“If I’m poison, why does your blade still hesitate?” Eydis asked.

Silence filled the greenhouse.

Astra looked aside, shoulders coiling.

“If you think my words were only shadows, only dreams, only memories….” Eydis balled her own fist. “Then let me give you something Lust never would.”

The truth might break them.

Might turn those crimson eyes to frost.

But this endless cycle was already breaking Astra.

Astra frowned, confusion tipping her blade a hair.

Eydis’s resolve hardened. She skimmed her fingertips along the sword; violet steam hissed where opposite powers collided.

“Light was born to chase Shadow,” she said softly, “but you are more than light, and I am more than shadow.”

The blade quivered.

“You are the Saintess, the Paragon of Virtue,” Eydis said, voice steady while her pulse hammered. “You carry the Twin Blades of Humility and Kindness.”

The sword dipped. Astra’s fingers strangled the hilt, her stare lost in the war between knowing and refusing to know.

Her voice returned, colder. “You almost had me, Lust.”

Eydis flinched. “You knew?”

Astra’s gaze turned glacial. “You watched the way our powers collided and decided you had me figured out. Not exactly groundbreaking.”

Eydis caught the blade with her bare hand. “Why are you so desperate to believe I'm not real?

“If you’re real… leave me here.” The contradiction lived in Astra’s trembling shoulders. As though she believed, and yet she couldn't bear to.

Eydis’s anger flared, aimed not at Astra but at Lust, the infernal Sin that had twisted a woman of courage and light into someone who feared hope itself. Blood welled around her tightening grip.

"That's it, isn't it?" Eydis's voice softened. "You're terrified that if there's even the smallest chance I'm an illusion, the true Eydis will shatter the moment you step away.”

"Stop." Astra's teeth were clenched so tightly the word barely escaped. "Just... stop."

“So you stay because it feels safer.” Eydis angled the point toward her own midriff. “Let me erase the doubt. If this is your idea of protection, maybe you’ve forgotten something. It isn’t our clash that makes you the Saintess. It’s your real gift.”

Astra gasped. "Don't you dare—"

“You can undo tragedy itself. Time to prove it.” Eydis pressed forward. Diamond kissed flesh with a hiss; hot blood soaked black fabric.

Astra froze in disbelief.

“I should have been honest from the beginning.” Eydis kept walking until steel slid free of her back, steam curling where holy edge met shadowed essence. “I was never half as brave as you believed me to be."

“I—I said stop! I believe you!” Astra caught Eydis before her knees yielded. The sword disintegrated into glittering shards.

She cradled Eydis, arms tightening. “Please… Eydis,” she begged.

Tears welled anew in Astra’s eyes and spilled without shame. Beneath her trembling palm, the golden flare of her healing gift rose, gentle and insistent, closing the wound the blade had opened.

Forehead settling on Astra’s shoulder, Eydis breathed deep. Cardamom, sandalwood, and something uniquely Astra. Fingers threaded through silken hair, memorising every strand, wondering if it might be the last time she could.

“Forgive me.” Her thumb brushed away Astra’s tears. “I suppose the ugly truth is simple… I am a liar.”

“You liar,” Astra agreed, rage glimmering in her voice.

Eydis squeezed her eyes shut, unwilling to watch the warmth freeze behind Astra’s glare, unwilling to see disappointment take solid form.

Silence held until a sob cracked it wide.

“Liar. You promised me,” Astra choked, “no more reckless gambles with your life.”

Eyes stinging, Eydis opened them, its own kind of surrender, and lifted her chin.

Sunlight slanted through the panes, setting Astra’s crimson irises ablaze, bright as pigeon-blood rubies. The very stones Eydis had once bought, foolishly hoping their fire could match this gaze.

There was no rage, only grief and relief tangling together.

“I never meant to keep that promise.” Eydis chuckled. “Thought that was obvi—“

Astra was already kissing her, slowly and reverently. When they parted, Astra didn’t speak right away. She only stared, breathless, like Eydis was a dream.

“It’s you,” she said. “Who else would use a near-death experience as a wake-up call?”

Her complaint faded when Eydis pressed a kiss to her brow, then lower, every touch tasting of shared breath. “I trusted you to catch me.”

Astra’s breath hitched. “You’re being unfair.”

“Come home with me,” Eydis said, quiet, smiling through the ache.

Astra let out a shaky laugh, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“You have a terrible way of telling me how you feel.” She kissed Eydis’s knuckles. “But there’s one thing you got wrong.”

The greenhouse flickered around them, glass panes draining to white like watercolour left out in the rain. Eydis stared at the unmaking world, then at the woman whose quiet smile rewrote its very code.

“What did I miss?”

Astra leaned in until their noses almost touched, her arms settling across Eydis’s shoulders.

“You were right. I stayed because it felt safest,” Astra confessed. “Some instinct knew you before my thoughts caught up, and the idea of finding you and losing you all at once was… terrifying.”

Eydis’s pulse leaped. Her gaze softened. “I am Schrödinger’s cat.”

Astra blinked.

“I skimmed through a textbook, long story.” Eydis’s grin turned sheepish. “You closed the lid so you’d never have to learn whether I was real or only a dream.”

“You’re both, Your Majesty.” Astra rolled her eyes, though a smile escaped. “A dream in a silk gown who told me to imagine somewhere safe.”

“Your kitchen?” fгeewёbnoѵel_cσm

“No.” Astra’s laugh came soft. Her breath tickled Eydis’s mouth, eyes bright and brimming with a tenderness Eydis hadn’t yet found the courage to name.

“My ridiculous heart decided it was here, but only if you stayed. Dream or not.”

Eydis’s heart tripped. “Well, look who’s reckless now.”

Astra’s voice was a hum as she drew nearer. “So what next?”

Eydis laid her palm gently over Astra’s heart, feeling the wild rhythm.

Astra inhaled sharply, colour rising on her cheeks. “What are you—”

“Not what you’re thinking,” Eydis whispered, pulling the final sliver of Lust’s shadows from Astra. It had been clinging on Astra’s core, deep within her heart.

Lust’s anchor, and that was why Astra hadn’t been able to destroy it completely.

“Not yet. And I meant every promise.” Eydis kissed her softly as light flooded the pixelating foliages. “First we wake.”

“Blink, my Astra.”

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