“Once again, the two lovers met in the same arena where they had fought in for many lifetimes. The two clashed with magic and steel. I wonder what you will do to your dove this time, arrow?”

  As a mysterious figure with horns watched the two dance in a tango for their lives, until one of them finally fell. The red-haired woman flew across from the other side of the room, only to pierce her silver-haired companion through the heart. In response, the silver-haired woman leaned against the red-haired one, becoming lifeless. The mourning sounds of gentle sobbing echoed off the walls. The red-haired woman slowly fell to her knees, her hair turning black. She was cradling her companion, not removing the sword from her chest.

  A whisper pierced through her sobs, “Charlotte, I-I-? why?”

  The black-haired girl's eyes sharpened when she heard clapping behind her. The shadowed figure emerged from their hiding place behind a golden pillar, and a twisted smile of amusement showed on her face.

  “Encore! Encore! Another amazing play from my favorite actresses,” she said, taunting and laughing.

  The Shadowed figure walked past them to confront the giant rift created by Charlotte. She started twirling around in circles, then stopped to face the black-haired woman, causing her to cradle her fallen companion closer. The Shadowy figure finally revealed herself to be a blonde-haired woman with orange slit eyes.

  “Another perfect ending, my dear Freya. Yet you failed again. Why not end this little play and give me the orb in the staff?” The woman asked softly, holding out her hand.

  Freya glanced down at Charlotte and then towards her staff, which was sitting beside her on the bloody floor. She carefully reached out for it, dragging it closer, then broke off the orb that was attached to it. The orb felt heavy as its blue hues swirled around inside. Freya stared at it and glanced back at Charlotte, who was slowly slipping from her grasp.

  The blonde woman walked up closer; however, as she took one more step toward the pair, a barrier blocked her from approaching any further.

  “Freya!” she yelled in anger, banging against the invisible wall.

  The orb glowed red as Freya locked eyes with the blond woman. She carefully retrieved her sword and placed Charlotte on the ground, while still holding on to the orb in her hand, before crossing her arms over her chest.

  Freya stood up as a portal appeared above her. “This time in another world, you won’t win. This time I will save everyone, and this time, Charlotte won't be involved with you.”

  The Blonde woman laughed, staring in disbelief as she summoned a book into her right hand.

  “I guess I was asking for an encore.” She paused and started laughing again. “I can’t wait to see how the dove will be shot down by the arrow this time. Have a safe journey.”, she smiled.

  The portal sucked up Freya as she watched herself drift farther away; a single tear fell from her eyes and landed on Charlotte's cheek. When the portal closed and the barrier gone, the blonde woman walked forward, as the flooring below them split apart.

  “Don’t worry, dear, an arrow through the heart does not mean you will truly die.” She whispered and cast a spell to engulf Charlotte in a shadowed realm.

  “Now let us try again.”

  /// pov: Freya September 14, 1087 Village of Mangeal

  Freya fell out of a portal, landing on a soft bed made of hay and sheep's wool with her eyes closed. The sound of the orb shattering into thousands of dust particles woke her up. At first, all she could hear was buzzing, then it turned into a familiar cry. She slowly opened her eyes and sat up, only to see the blur of her new room. Along with her thoughts;

  “The last thing I remember was her cries, which haunted me since my arrival. This is worse than the previous time. Waking up in parallel worlds has always hit me differently, but this time, this is a shell-shock. Instead of being in my knight's quarters, I have now woken up somewhere new. Oh, my Journal! I haven’t forgotten to write the previous time, have I?”

  She stood up, taking off her knight's cloak, and started shuffling into her pocket to grab an old, tattered book from her previous experiences. As she flipped through the pages, there was a knock at the door, making Freya hide it underneath her cloak.

  An older man called from the other side of the door, “Freya? Are you awake? I need you to watch the store for me.” The voice said politely.

  Freya's eyes lit up, realizing it was her father behind that door.

  “I'm coming inside, so make yourself presentable.” He was just like how she remembered him, humble.

  Freya went to open the door immediately, only to see her father's warm eyes, a sight she surely missed. Without warning, she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. The old man chuckled, “Freya, what's wrong? You haven’t hugged me like this since you were a child,” he asked, concerningly hugging her back.

  “The accident never happened, and that means Nicholas never- Nicholas!” Freya realized that this world was far different from the previous ones, and she got lost in her thoughts.

  “Damn, Freya, when did you get so strong? Well, when you are ready, come downstairs. I need help.” He said, pulling away, making her snap back to reality.

  She looked down, embarrassed, but instead of being scolded for showing some weakness by him, he patted her on the head before walking towards the stairs. She stood there, shocked, never thinking he would do such a thing.

  “This new world is strange; I never thought this was a possibility, and maybe this time she will be safe too, or that stupid prophecy doesn’t even exist.” She thought before grabbing her notebook from underneath the cloak and flipping through it.

  She walked towards a desk beside her bed and sat down. Reading through her past entry, only to finish it with a convenient pen sitting on the tabletop.

  Journal entry number 79, last paragraph;

  It didn’t work; she lost control again and tore a rift through that side of the cosmos. Charlotte never should have lived through this pain of being manipulated repeatedly. The witch calls our experience a play, and we are her actresses. I still have no clue what her primary intention is. Every time I have faced her, she has given me different answers. I will start journal entry eighty tomorrow.

  Freya put down the pen and left the room, leaving the journal open on the table. Walking down the hall, she looked at all the photos hanging in the corridor. This new world made her past lives look miserable. Birthday parties together, holidays, and even fishing trips, something she promised her father they would do together when he was supposed to come home. The stairs were steep but led to a counter with potions sitting behind it.

  “Potions? No, that's not right. We have always been a family of swordsmanship and honor. If anyone was a potion maker, it was… Charlotte,” she thought, before her father tapped her on the shoulder.

  “Freya, I need you to stay at the counter. I am expecting the knights of Kazfel to come for a few battle potions. I’m going to deliver these wellness potions to Miss Velean. If your brother comes back early, tell him to fuse more charms.” The tired potion maker said in a rush, leaving swiftly out the door.

  Standing at the front desk for a while, she was staring at all the shelves of different coloured bottles. Eventually, turning around and grabbing one behind her out of curiosity, only to feel like the ground beneath her had collapsed.

  Freya clasped onto the bottle, fearing she might break it, “This bottle, no, this is her special potion, so why? WHY DOES IT HAVE MY NAME ON IT!”? she said, full of heartache and fear.

  Before leaving the other world, “she told the witch that Charlotte wasn’t going to be involved, but she didn’t want her to disappear.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “Where are you? And why am I here?” she asked softly to it.

  Freya could feel tears swelling up in her eyes, only for a brief moment, before being disturbed by the store's bell. She quickly got her composure, putting the potion back onto the shelf and slapping her cheeks, hyping herself up.

  She slowly turned around, “Welcome to our store, how may I-”, she stopped, shocked at the knight standing in front of her.

  She then whispered out loud, “Dove?”

  The silver-haired knight smiled to not feel awkward; “I’m sorry, but that's not my name. I have an order for Charlotte Liberta. I require the eighteen pack of the Twinkle of Stardust potions, and one of, I believe, your signature potion as well, called Everbreeze.” Every word she spoke sounded like a bird singing a faint melody.

  Freya stood there staring at her, so many questions flooded her mind, “What do you mean you are a knight? My signature potion? I can’t even brew a cup of tea! Why are you a knight? Wait, I already thought of that,” she thought as her cheeks flushed red.

  “Excuse me, are you alright? Your face is beet red?” Charlotte asked, leaning over the counter to see Freya's face better.

  Freya stepped back aloof, “Yes, of course I am! Let me get those for you!”

  She stepped to the right and grabbed a box with the potions called Twinkle of Stardust labeled on it, as if it was common knowledge to her where exactly it was, and one of her signature potions, Everbreeze. When she turned around, Charlotte was still smiling. She missed that face, even if it hadn’t been that long since she last saw it.

  “Seventy coins, correct?” Charlotte said, rummaging through her coin purse.

  “No, it is fifty-eight. The Everbreeze is on me,” Freya responded with a little cough.

  Charlotte surprisingly reached over the counter and hugged Freya to show her appreciation. Freya's face turned an even redder colour.

  “Thank you potion maker, I will come back again for sure!” she happily said, letting go.

  Freya, dazed, responded in quick breaths, "Anytime, Do-Charlotte."

  She watched her leave the store with a cape flowing behind her elegantly.

  Freya cleansed herself up from the hypnotizing spell that was cast on her and continued to watch the store until he arrived later that evening. He was wearing normal clothing, with a few holes here and there. He smiled at her and ran over for a hug, but instead of an embrace, he flipped over the counter from Freya's dogging.

  A groan came from under the counter; "Rotten little sister.. Looks like you are getting knuckle noogies again.”

  “Nicholas, what were you doing?” Freya asked with a look of disgust, watching him pick himself up from the cold floor.

  “I was helping our local farmers with their sheep. It’s shearing season, you know that. What's wrong with you? Why are you so mad?” He asked concerningly.

  Freya clenched her hand into a fist, but then realized that if this was a whole new world, and if Charlotte didn't remember her nickname, then there might be a chance that Nicholas didn’t either. She balled her fist and put on a smile that was a bit faked, and made up a quick lie.

  “I was just so bored, and I was worried I sold a few potions to a knight, so I thought something bad might have happened,” she lied successfully between her teeth.

  Nicholas walked over and grabbed something from his satchel. “Sorry. I was a bit late; I was getting the ingredients for your potion making. Night Lillies, I could only find them in the oak forest.”

  Freya accepted the flowers, and her eyes lit up with inspiration, prompting her to walk behind the counter again. Nicholas watched as he leaned over. It felt like she wasn’t in control of her own body as she ran shelf to shelf, grabbing ingredients, toad's eyes, a banshee's tears, and finally common rust from the shelves themselves. She put the ingredients into a table cauldron that was boiling all day, dropping the items in different coloured smoke wafted up into the air from each ingredient.

  “What's happening to me? I have never brewed anything well in my life, so why now?” Freya plucked the petals from the Night Lillies and sprinkled them into the pot, making the liquid shimmer blue inside with hints of black bubbles popping up now and then.

  Nicolas had a face of shock as he used his appraisal skill on the cauldron; “Amazing, sis! You actually made a vision potion! Dad's going to be so proud. He was worried that the little girl down the street would go blind before her birthday. How did you know it would work?”

  Freya smiled, “It was the rust from our shelves, it's made from the same metallic mineral needed, and the oxidation made it stable enough for me to use it. (How did I know that?)”

  The smell of lilies drifted through the air as their father walked through the door, holding what looked like takeout with a smile.

  “That smell? Freya, did you make a vision potion? How did you? We don’t have ignited iron.” The old man questioned, handing over the food to Nicholas.

  “It was the rust. It technically oxidized into the same element needed as ignited iron.” Freya said quietly.

  Her father awarded her with a tight hug, “I knew you could find a way, I’m guessing Nicholas got you the Night Lilies?”

  She nodded, and her father let her go.

  “Alright, let's eat! I'm starving!” The old man patted his enormous belly and walked into the living quarters with Nicholas balancing the food in his arms, carefully following.

  Freya watched the two and smiled, “Is this what a family is supposed to be like? I never got to see this side of Father before he died.” She looked at the cauldron boiling with the potion she just magically brewed, then frowned, “Charlotte, is this what life was like for you? Did I steal it? Dove, I'm so sorry-”

  Before she could finish another thought, Nicholas called out, annoyed, “C’mon, you spoiled sister! I'm hungry from carrying sheep all day!”

  She snapped back to reality and responded, “Alright, alright!”

  Freya never laughed so much as she had that night; she felt like everything was going to be okay. Once they all finished their meals, everyone went into their rooms for the night. Meanwhile, someone else was stressing over the outcome of her world.

  /// pov: Charlotte September 14, 1087 Village of Mangeals Oak Forest

  Charlotte was sitting high in the treetops, swirling the potion of Evermore in her hand. She watched the sparkles that emanated, dazzling slightly. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the potion maker she saw today, and how she was calling her Dove.

  “What am I to do if the world ends in ten days? I may never see that lovely maiden again. What was her name? I don’t think I ever caught it.” Charlotte gazed down at the forest floor to see a familiar swirling smoke.

  Hey Lich, do you think you may know that maiden's name? You already know so much, even giving me my prophecy.” Charlotte hollered down at some smoke, which soon, quickly formed into a horned woman with orange glowing eyes; moss grew from various parts of her body and clothing.

  “You mean the redhead? Her name is Freya, she's blessed by the sun god Akrelus to strike down her enemy of blue.” The Lich whispered, yet Charlotte could hear her perfectly.

  “Wait!?” Charlotte's eyes sharpened as she clutched the bottle firmly.

  “You said the same thing to me; I was supposed to strike down an enemy of red? Are you crazy? I mean, you must be. After running into the royal palace, causing a panic over a prophecy. Even coming into my quarters to tell me my own.” She menacingly pressed her gaze down at the lich, who calmly stared back.

  The annoyed knight jumped off the branch and landed gracefully in front of the shadowed figure, slowly reaching for her sword.

  The Lich bowed to show her respect for Charlotte's authority; “Let me tell you the authentic version, my dear knight.” She hummed.

  Charlotte took a step back and kept a hand on her holster, while a menacing grin appeared on the Lich's face.

  “For countless eras before the gods abandoned us to fend for ourselves, we depended on those deities to protect us from the damnation of the cosmos, and the wrath of the end of time itself. Yet gods can die from the very corrosion they were trying to preserve. So, before the final one drew its last physical breath, they created the Divination Orb. Where warriors are chosen by it to maintain the balance of our world by granting partial immortality, thereby turning them into gods for a short while. It was said originally that a sorcerer and a knight would fight each other to become gods.”

  “However, that prophecy is wrong now. My dear, you must retrieve the orb successfully.” She stood up straight to face Charlotte, who was now even more pissed off.

  In response, Charlotte drew her sword, pointing it at the Lich; “And are you the sorcerer?” She asked without a drop of sincerity in her voice.

  The Lich started to fade away, transforming into a shadowy mist. “Keep an eye on your arrow; for she may strike you down again.”

  With that statement said, the Shadowed mist dispensed into thin air, leaving the knight pointing at nothing.

  Charlotte sighed and withdrew, placing her sword back into its sheath, breathing slowly, “Tomorrow I will speak with her again. Besides, you can never have too many potions.”

  She reached into her cloak pocket and gazed at the bottle of Everbreeze again. “Can a prophecy change?”

  /// pov: ????????????????????

  Hello Outsider. Yes, I'm talking to you, the one reading these lost pages. Who am I? Don’t worry, just know that the prophecy those two are constantly worried about wasn’t the real one. Because of false information, I will tell you the truth; however, it is our little secret.

  Every few thousand years, the Orb of Divination chooses a hero to ascend into godhood, to protect the order of our world. However, there was always a twist; those heroes would have to fight the most infernal and unholy nightmares of humanity. Usually, there would only be one hero to take the mantel, but this time, the Orb chose three. A noble knight blessed by the sun god with the power of Akrelus. A sorceress from a small town, made for fresh adventures with the power of Equila, the moon. Then, finally, just a healer, who was doomed to fly too close to the sun. No one knew why these three were chosen, but that healer did everything for her shining star, only for that very light to choose the moon. Out of three, only one could ascend.

  Oh, look at me rambling. You should enjoy the rest of the story; don't worry, I will be back. I promise, Outsider.