The morning mist hung low over the lake, drifting gently between the hills like an old memory unwilling to fade. The soft sound of water rippling reached you before you saw her — the woman who had raised you, protected you, and loved you beyond herself.

There she was. Your sister.

Her long hair fell like a dark river down her back, glistening with droplets that shimmered in the faint sunlight. A white drape clung softly to her form, flowing in the breeze like part of the mist itself. Gold bangles caught the light with every graceful motion of her hands as she squeezed the water from her hair. The same gentle face that once smiled at you by the fire now carried years of quiet solitude — lines of grace, not age.

You stood at the edge of the bank, silent. The wind stirred the trees, and your heart trembled with it. Eight years — eight long years since you had last seen her. The boy she raised had returned as a man, as an emperor even… yet in that moment, you felt like a child again.

She turned suddenly. Her eyes caught you — sharp, startled, then filled with stern fire.

“Who are you?!” she called, stepping closer through the shallow water, her voice firm but tinged with unease.

Your throat tightened, and all the strength you had gathered through battles and crowns faltered before the woman who had once sung you to sleep.

She came nearer, anger flashing in her gaze, droplets sliding down her skin like liquid pearls.