I'M SO SORRY!

I do sincerely apologise for making everyone worry, I submitted my last assignment last week and have been a free gal since! I did have to get an extension, unfortunately there was SO MUCH to do but here I am a little bit over my fan fic due date lol.

My research paper wasn't an official one, I have to do it for my final year it kinda comes with the territory of doing an honours bachelor's, but I did sweat for it like a real one sigh.

Thank you to everyone who checked up on me, your little congrats were so heartwarming to read after suffering a degree for 4 years - it definitely wasn't worth it, but hopefully, I can make a pretty decent chunk of cheese and retire soon fufu.

Also apparently people can be left brained or right brained, left is more logical and right is more creative. Didn't know this because I tend to be both but then again I might be bipolar... aanyways if you are here to ask me to update His Everything, dw it is in the works...slowly but surely I'll get to it. I didn't realise how popular that fanfic was, I'm kinda embarrassed about it... why did I explore adult themes before being an adult ugh I'm such a child honestly.

USERNAME CHANGE: I did change my username just cos this one is a bit more personal, but I kept the Star part because everyone in the comments and PMs keeps calling me Star and i think its so so cute so please do continue that. Star is my nom de plume.

ENJOY!

P.s if there are some grammar issues pls ignore, my editor is like 4 chapters behind bc he decided higher education was a priority over my tragedy of a fanfic...

It had been 5 weeks since former princess Stella was taken hostage by the high commander of Drakar's ambush. 5 weeks since she saw her friends and fought for her rebellion, 5 weeks since she watched the inceptor open fire at the man who held her together for 4 years, the man she respected and felt safe around. Her rock, her anchor, her Noah.

Stella stared at herself in the mirror as she sat on the dresser chair, hairbrush gliding through her blonde locks aimlessly. Her eyes were dull and almost hollow, reflecting the heartache she was holding deep down. Her skin remained in colour due to sunlight from the open balcony the High Commander was merciful enough to keep open but her spirit was wavering with each passing sunset.

She wondered about how the Rebellion was doing. She hadn't heard anything of their attacks during her time at the palace, granted the high commander was even notified of those. She wondered if they had continued executing their plan to take back Solaria now that they were without both captain and lieutenant.

Her heart tightened at the thought of her friends and the people she fought alongside being left to fend for themselves. The thought of them having to deal with the death of their leader and the loss of their second in command. And Helia, who lost both of his best friends.

Did they have a funeral for Noah? Did they mourn him together as she sat here staring at the void of herself, unable to cry, unable to grieve and feel the loss of the most important person in her life?

She could see the tear run down her cheek as it dissolved over the skin of her cheek before she quickly wiped her other cheek, stopping herself from crying. Not here. Not now. She refused to give Brandon Silver the satisfaction of thinking he had broken her.

She was not going to break.

Not until she had taken back her kingdom and avenged her father and Noah.

Not until High Commander Brandon Silver was dead.

Slamming the hairbrush down onto the white wood of the dresser table with a clutter, she stood up. Her eyes flickered to the balcony doors that lay open, the sheer white curtain dancing at the soft breeze that blew into her prison room. The Silver ship had left early this morning as the courtyard was left bare and her alone in the palace once more.

She hadn't spoken a word to Brandon Silver since he had forced the replenisher down her throat after almost killing her on the balcony. She saw him some mornings on his way out of the palace, and her eyes remained subconsciously stuck on him as he boarded the ship, but It had been a while since they exchanged remarks or he had forced her to fight.

In fact, it had been a while since she spoke to anyone.

Digit had come to see her this morning with breakfast, letting her know he wouldn't be around today due to a few repairs and upgrades on the Drakari conquest fleet that Timmy needed help with.

As far as Tecna's day went, she was attending some meetings on Zenith while Riven had left on his own accord to do whatever it was that he did during the day. She hadn't run into him after their altercation in the garden last week, and for that, she was thankful. Out of all of them, Riven had to be the one person from the high commander's platoon she never saw anything but hate for. Aside from Brandon Silver himself, Riven Hale was another heartless monster who did whatever he pleased, whenever he pleased.

She just never knew what role he played in all this.

Putting on her shoes, she shut the door behind her as she walked down the hall again, sketchbook in hand, as she headed towards the only place that gave her solace in this snake pit. Her beloved fountain and gazebo in the royal gardens served as the only reminder that there was hope for her kingdom to be restored to its former glory.

It was almost spring in Solaria, and the small green buds she had seen on her way down the stone path were gaining some colour, hinting at the type of flower within. The water in the stream flowed in abundance, alluding to the changing seasons as the water guided her down the path towards the gazebo.

Taking her usual seat, the former princess propped her feet up on the stone flat surface, creating space on her lap to place her sketchbook. Her recent designs were all half-scribbled concepts; she couldn't seem to find the inspiration to finish them despite starting them with more enthusiasm. She had resorted to sketching whatever came to mind as she let her thoughts guide the pencil.

Lines slowly formed into shapes, and soon, the image of Noah's face started to take shape on the page—his gentle smile, his piercing gaze, the way his hair always fell slightly into his eyes. A pang of longing welled up in her chest, mingling with the fury that hadn't dulled since the day she lost him. She was certain his death weighed on her more heavily than anything else, even more than her own captivity.

But she could never finish her work, at least not without almost bringing herself to tears which was a notion she promised herself she wouldn't do.

Stuffing the end of her pencil between her teeth, she stared at her page where the light sketch of his face sat. Despite the sketch resembling him, she was starting to forget the colours that lit up his face.

Noah's eyes were the most comforting part of him. Those ocean blue orbs with the greyish green speckles around the iris, just looking into them told her everything was going to be okay.

If only she had some pencils to colour them in.

Stella sighed, looking up at the trees that soared above the gazebo, letting the soft streams of sunlight peak through. The gardens were beautiful this time of year, with fruit flowers of the trees blooming in brilliant colours, their delicate scents lingering in the air.

But beneath the beauty, she knew it was just another cage, a gilded prison meant to keep her bound, to keep her from finding any way to fight back. Her every move was still monitored, even if High Commander Brandon Silver wasn't physically present to oversee it himself.

Her gaze fell down, guided over the stream that flowed from the right into the creek that seemed to always gather vastly during this time of year.

She remembered her father used to tell her during the year of the solstice, the magic of the planet flowed in abundance, and everything from the water to the air was a reflection of that power.

But there was something today that felt different. Stella narrowed her eyes, noticing the creek that stopped the stream behind the gazebo had now kept flowing beyond the trees.

Placing the sketchbook and pencil down, Stella gathered her feet off the stool and made her way down. It had been 4 years since she had been at the palace, and even during her childhood living here, the creek always stopped at the gazebo.

Had the Drakari altered the garden's layout? She doubted they'd bothered with something as gentle as gardening, yet here she was, noticing a stream she didn't remember. Shrubs and flowering bushes framed the water's edge, guiding her to a spot she'd never explored.

Parting the shrubs, the former princess stepped through, following the soft trickling of the water upstream. Her eyebrows furrowed at the small river that was flowing into the palace grounds through an arch-shaped vent in the cream walls.

Has this always been there? She gazed back quizzically, unable to recall ever coming to this side of the garden. The bars on the vent were black metal rods, spaced apart evenly to allow the water to flow in from beyond the mountain that soared in the backdrop of the palace.

She peered down at her own reflection in the water, her face slightly warped by the stream's rippling surface. It was strange, standing here in a place she had never noticed in her own childhood. The water's soft song, the surrounding greenery, and the solitude all felt dreamlike—until the illusion shattered.

"Stay away from her majesty!"

Stella whipped around, fists instinctively raised but saw no one. Her heart raced as she glanced back at the water, wondering if she'd imagined the voice. She could feel her heartbeat pounding in her ears, but she heard it again, faint yet insistent, as though distant memories were seeping through the air around her. Her eyebrows knitted in the middle as she gazed back at the water. She's never been here before. Right?

"Don't touch the queen!"

"Who's there?!" Stella snapped, her breathing picking up at the way drowned voices seemed to infiltrate her surroundings. But there wasn't a soul around.

The sound of the water flowing seemed to get louder, and everything was in hyperfocus. The wind blew in the trees, the sound of her feet shifting over the gravel lining the edge of the stream and her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.

She felt the throbbing pain shoot through the side of her head, causing an agonising cry to escape her lips. Her knees met the gravel as she clutched her head trying to calm the headache that made her feel like her temples were going to burst open.

What the hell was happening?!

"Please tell me you didn't do it, please tell me it wasn't actually you,"

The words came from her own mouth, but it was a voice filled with fear and desperation she didn't recognise as her own. She strained through the agony, lifting her head, struggling to distinguish reality from vision.

Suddenly, the scenery before her flashed dark as if someone had flipped a light switch for a brief moment, turning day into night. Another agonising cry and Stella dropped her hands against the gravel to stop herself from collapsing against the ground.

"I did princess,"

She recognised that voice too. Brandon Silver. His voice was clear as day, empty, toneless and cold like usual, but the way he spoke made her heart clench unbearably.

But he wasn't here. No one was. Why was she hearing these voices?!

The blackness flashed again, and this time, she glimpsed a pair of dark boots before her. But the image faded almost as soon as it appeared, leaving her panting, her forehead clammy with sweat. Just as the pain began to subside, another vision flared, and the sounds around her grew louder. The water, the gravel, and even the faint rustle of leaves became amplified in her ears.

"No please, don't hurt her,"

"Your Majesty, you have to run, get away from here!"

Stella panted, her blurry gaze finally able to focus through the throbbing pain at the flashes of visions before her. She could see her face clearly this time. The fear, pain and desperation in those once stern and determined brown eyes.

Madam Griselda.

Former princess Stella's governess stood in front of her, blood staining her smoky blue dress as she stood protectively in front of her liege. "Please, Your Majesty, run," She begged Stella over her shoulder as her outspread hands shielded the princess's body behind her.

The vision distorted as if someone had fast-forwarded it and pressed play. One moment Madam Griselda stood in front of her, the next she was a few feet away, hands in front of her to summon her magic in the direction of the attacker.

A younger Brandon Silver stood facing Griselda. Black tuxedo hiding the crisp stains of red he was drenched in. His face had streaks of the same crimson colour that had splashed over his white collar and his green sword pulsated in his tight grip.

Stella could see the voided dark look in his cruel and cold gaze, the same look he had in her memory over her father's dead body. Another headache shot through her temples as Stella let out a cry and clutched her head, trying to still focus on the vision before her.

What were these memories?

She could see Brandon's lips move, but she couldn't make out what he was saying. His expression remained unchanged, emotionless and cold. Another wave of agonising pain as Stella let out another teeth-gritted groan trying to force herself to focus on the rest of the vision.

She watched desperately as he closed his eyes, and his shoulders dropped ever so slightly before a look of cruel, menacing hate replaced his blank gaze.

One moment, Griselda was standing in front of him, protecting the former princess, the next her body jolted back and a gasp escaped her lips. A horrified cry escaped Stella's lips as she stared at the scene before her. The glowing green blade that was formerly resting by his side sat sticking out of her gut.

"No! No, please!" She could hear her own voice scream and beg through tears, but he didn't even spare her a glance before pulling the blade right back out of her beloved governess's body. The last thing she saw was Griselda's knees hit the ground as the blood-soaked the dirt floor and her own horrific scream echoed in her mind.

Stella's eyes flickered open as the sunlight soaked down on her from above. The figures and the voices that previously infiltrated her vision had disappeared, replaced with the empty gravel bank of the stream she had collapsed on.

She rubbed her eyes, panting and heaving at the hazy memory that seemed to resurface by the stream. Gazing around frantically, she staggered to her feet and quickly stumbled her way back through the bushes. She could barely think straight at the cutaways of visions that kept replaying in her mind as she ran back to her prison room, the only place she could be alone.

Slamming the door shut, she pressed her back against the wood and slid to the floor, unable to find the energy to walk any further. Her breathing was laboured as she struggled to catch her breath from the thoughts that swirled in her mind.

The vision…no, the memory was clearly from the red coronation. She was seeing her own memories. Memories she didn't know how were wiped from her mind. She didn't remember between Brandon Silver bringing his sword down at her neck at the great hall to finding herself running into one of the evacuation ships that left the planet.

This memory seemed to be a short while after her father's assassination, she was still in her coronation dress, her father's blood drenching her hands, and the night still shrouding the kingdom.

But how did she end up by the bank? How did Brandon find her there? And Griselda…

He killed Griselda.

She brought her shaky hand to her face, covering her lips to keep herself from crying at the memory that played over and over again. Griselda had been more than a governess; she'd been family. And she'd died for her, sacrificing herself in a moment of bravery that Stella hadn't been strong enough to match.

Stella never saw her governess after the evening of her coronation. After Griselda had scolded her and left the princess's quarters, Stella recalled catching a glimpse of her in the great hall before she was crowned but never after. She had seen her name in the list of casualties that night and mourned her death as a victim to the Silver soldiers that attacked the hall.

But she wasn't.

Brandon Silver had murdered her governess, right in front of her. And once again there was nothing she could do to save her. Princess Stella was weak, lacking the magic and skill needed to protect her people. Her weakness killed her loved ones.

Even after fighting in the rebellion, she was still weak.

Her father, Griselda. Even Noah. People she could've saved if she was just strong enough.

But she wasn't going to break. She was going to kill those who took everything from her.

She wasn't going to break. Not now at least.

I suggest you stay on your toes from here on out...it gets substantially worse.

Dw tho, my loves, the next chappie is already half written. I actually wrote a 7k-word monster of a chapter but had to split it up for the purpose of building some suspense.

I'll let you in on a little secret: if some chapters seem very nicely written, it's because I wrote them AGES ago during a brain dump and have spent the last few chapters connecting the brain dumps lol. Anyways the chappies for the next arc are ones I was quite proud of.

Stellie doesn't catch a break tho...

Also, I say this with all seriousness - I am not a serious author, I'm just doing this for the lols and bc I get bored, but in saying that PLEASE tell me if you don't understand something or if u find the plot holes, I want to fix it bc when this story is done, I will TRY not to delete it out of embarrassment like I did the other ones...

Lots of love,

StarMira