Deviating from the original plot

Chapter forty-five

Later that night, after the celebration had finally wound down, Victoria trudged to her room and collapsed onto her bed, face down. A soft knock at the door followed.

"Come in, Anne," she mumbled, her voice muffled into the pillows.

The door creaked open, and Anne stepped inside, followed by a few of the other maids carrying trays and small bundles.

"Are you asleep, my lady?" Anne asked softly.

"Not yet," Victoria replied, sitting up and brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"Well," Anne continued with a gentle smile, "the other maids and I made a little gift for you." She handed Victoria a small box.

Victoria's eyes softened. "Aww... you shouldn't have." She lifted the lid, revealing a dainty necklace.

"We just wanted to give you something, even if it's not as grand as the other gifts you received tonight," Anne said, her cheeks tinged with pink.

Victoria shook her head, touched. "Don't say that—it's lovely. I'll treasure it very much." The maids exchanged pleased smiles.

Afterward, the maids finished helping Victoria prepare for bed, brushing her hair and adjusting her nightgown with careful, practised motions. Once everything was settled, they quietly left, leaving Victoria alone in the soft glow of her bedside lamp.

Exhaustion pulled at her almost immediately, and she drifted into a deep, unbroken sleep. Her dreams took hold. She found herself wandering through the estate gardens, inhaling the scent of blooming flowers and marvelling at their colours—until something unusual caught her eye. A door had appeared, framed by tall hedges, one she had never seen before.

"I've never noticed that before... "It's not usually here," she murmured, approaching it cautiously. With a hesitant hand, she turned the knob. The door swung open, and a sudden pull swallowed her whole.

Victoria tumbled into a silvery, ethereal dreamscape, a place without landmarks or horizon, endless and strange.

"Where... am I? "What is this place?" she asked aloud, her voice trembling slightly.

"Hello again," a familiar voice said, calm yet commanding. Victoria spun around, her expression hardening as she recognised the spirit she had met five years ago in her dreams—its presence still stirring the memory of hurt and anger she had felt then.

"You are... doing well," the spirit said, and Victoria let out a frustrated sigh.

"Like I had a choice not to," she replied, irritation lacing her tone.

"Understandable," the spirit responded, its voice calm and unwavering.

"Why am I here again? Did you kill me in my sleep again?" Her anger flared.

"You are the chosen one," the spirit declared.

Victoria blinked, her brows knitting. "I'm sorry... what?"

"You have been chosen to deliver the mortal realm from the coming darkness. You are our champion."

"..."

"The deities of your realm have reached a decision. They require your aid," the spirit continued. "A sinister ex-god has found their way among humans, spreading chaos and corruption, which you are likely already aware of."

Victoria's mind raced. The black mages.

"And... they expect me to stop him? Me?" she asked.

"Yes," the spirit replied simply.