Calina
༺♔༻

When I entered the living room, my parents sat poised on the grey couch, a spread of delicacies adorning the coffee table before them. There was a nervous twitch in my mother's fingers as she fidgeted with getting the arrangement on the table just right. Unease settled over me; I knew from experience that such elaborate, colorful preparations usually only happened when she had upsetting news.

My father gestured towards the empty chair beside the couch. "Have a seat." His voice was steady, but I could hear some tension beneath the surface. I complied, casting a fleeting glance at the spread of food on the coffee table, but my appetite was overshadowed by the palpable tension in the room.

"Okay, the build up to this is kind of making my stomach do somersaults," I confessed.

My mother forced a tight-lipped smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Everything is fine, little bug," she replied, her voice wavering slightly.

My father cleared his throat before speaking, his gaze fixed on me. "I'll get straight to the point. There's no easy way to explain this. Are you ready?"

I leaned forward, my breath held in suspense as my father unraveled the saga of Queen Ariadne, a young girl born amidst the chaos of a devastating plague. ""Ariadne was the founder and first Queen of Greecia. A remarkable young warrior that achieved victory in the Greecian war at the tender age of fifteen. Your ancestor, Ariadne, was not just any queen," he explained, his voice carrying the weight of reverence. "She was a beacon of hope in humanity's darkest hour."

"It was a desperate time," my mother confessed. "Your ancestor's mother, brave and resolute, volunteered to be part of an experiment, hoping to find a cure for the plague that ravaged our world. I couldn't imagine willingly agreeing to be a participant in scientific experiments aimed at combating the deadly virus. To risk my unborn child. But we have to be grateful that she did because the world was on the brink of extinction."

My father continued, painting a vivid picture of Ariadne's origins - her very existence emerged as a testament to the tenacity of the human spirit. From the uncertainty of her conception to the revelation of her unparalleled immunity and intellect, each detail painted a portrait of a young girl destined for greatness amidst the chaos of a would ready to collapse.

"The ramifications of the vaccine weren't clear until his wife gave birth. The newborn had deep violet eyes. Around the world more panic ensued. That is until Talos Ariti admitted he had injected his pregnant wife with numerous test vaccines before finding the cure. The daughter of Talos, Ariadne, spent the first eight years of her life in and out of hospitals, test after test. Doctors spent years trying to figure out why the violet-eyed child never got sick, not even the sniffles. The scientist discovered her three immune system responses were in a sort of hyper state. It was only in Ariadne's blood that scientists discovered a cure for bone cancer, and several years after that for the scientists to create various other strains that cured different types of cancer." He took a breath, his voice trailing off, leaving a brief silence that lingered in the room.

With bated breath, I listened as my father recounted Ariadne's journey-from the tragic loss of her father to her emergence as a formidable leader, earning the title of warrior princess and ultimately shaping the course of history with the establishment of Greecia's monarchy.

As he concluded the tale, pride and wonderment suffused my father's voice, echoing the awe-inspiring legacy of the warrior princess who had defied all odds to leave an indelible mark on the world.

"Okay so this Ariadne is a distant relative of mine? We are from United Greecia, correct? What does her story have to do with all the secrecy that seemed to surround my childhood?" I asked with furrowed brows. The story was intriguing but it still didn't really explain much.

My father stood so abruptly from his spot on the couch, I flinched, watching with wide eyes as he walked out the front door. Glancing over to my mother, concern laced her gaze as she looked over at me.

"He isn't ready to share that with you," she confessed, her voice heavy with sorrow. "I'm not sure if he will ever be able to admit what we kept to ourselves for so long. For... your whole life. So, I will tell you. Are you hungry or thirsty?" Mother asked, reaching over to gently pat my hand with hers. I shook my head.

"How about you eat? You and your father trained for over an hour. You need sustenance. I will explain everything."
I frowned at her, ready to argue.

She held up a hand, stopping me before I'd uttered a sound. "That is the only way I'm willing to quell your curious mind, is if you eat," She said gently.

I blindly grabbed at the array of food on the low table and took an oversized bite.
Raising an eyebrow at her to speak.

"Your father was the king of Greecia and I was the princess of Bulgaria."

I coughed and choke down my shortbread cookie, instantly regretting my giant bite. I was prepared to interrupt her, but again, she held up a hand and continued her story.

"When your father and I married and the two countries united, it was the first expansion our country had been through in over four hundred years, since Queen Ariadne took control of the former Albania and north Macedonia. It took a few years, but finally our united countries were thriving economically. We were beloved by our people and we loved them. Reigning over United Greecia filled us with so much joy. It was an honor. But we were forced to step away from the throne. For reasons that were out of our control. We had to protect you at all cost. " She paused, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion.
"This king from a neighboring country had a vendetta. A man consumed by his thirst for power and blinded by his hatred for your father. He plotted to seize control of our kingdom. He sought to take you, Calina," she confessed, her eyes filled with a mixture of anguish and resolve. "As the heir to the throne, you were his target, his means of eradicating the last vestiges of our lineage. But know that the danger is not yet past," my mother cautioned, her hazel eyes locking with mine in a silent plea for understanding. " We can never return to the motherland. Your father and I made the ultimate sacrifice to protect you, to ensure that you would never fall into the hands of our enemies."

I didn't know what to say. I didn't have any words forming in my head. I couldn't even react. I just sat there. Staring, unseeingly at the coffee table in front of me.

She was still speaking. Offering words of comfort but I couldn't hear them. Not really.

Struggling to anchor myself in the present, I cast my thoughts back to the lessons of my Political History course, the fragmented pieces of information scattered across my mind like shards of a broken mirror.

Which, I needed to make a note in my phone to study and cram for because I had a exam due in a few days.
The Reset wars loomed large in my thoughts, a grim reminder of humanity's capacity for destruction and the scars it had left upon the world. It was a brutal, economically crushing war that claimed four trillion lives, as if the hard-hitting plague that took millions of lives wasn't enough destruction.

In the wake of the war's devastation, the landscape of nations had undergone a seismic shift, giving rise to a new era of monarchy and consolidation of power. Formerly insignificant regions had risen to prominence, their rulers presiding over vast territories with an iron grip.

Yet amidst the chaos and upheaval, Freedom stood as a beacon of defiance, a testament to the resilience of its people in the face of adversity. Governed by principles of democracy and self-determination, it stood in stark contrast to the monarchies that now dominated the global stage.

Unfortunately, Freedom remained the poorest among all the countries, lagging behind in various aspects. While other kingdoms refuse to extend a helping hand, Freedom takes pride in its self-sufficiency, uninterested in fancy technology if it meant being dictated.

That was all I could recall. I really, really needed to study.

"Why did you guys move to Freedom?" I blurted out.

Silence greeted my question.

Alone in the empty living room, even the coffee table had been cleared of its colorful treats. The shadows had lengthened along the walls and the room grew dim. With a heavy sigh, I sank back into the cushions of the couch, and stared vacantly at the light in the corner casting a soft, eerie glow across the room. The whispers of my own thoughts echoing in the stillness of the night.

My parents were from royal blood? King Leo and Queen Ana. I didn't believe them. Not really.
What if this was just another one of my father's stories, spun from the threads of his imagination to shield me from some other horrors. Like maybe they were criminals or international spies.

I couldn't say how long I sat there, time had seemed to stand still and move quickly all at once.
At some point I had wondered up to my old room and managed to get a few hours of sleep.

»»----------««

As I entered the kitchen the next morning, everything seemed normal, as if the events of the previous evening had been nothing more than a fleeting dream. My mother's soft smile greeted me, setting a plate of food on the table in front of my father. But as she moved with the grace of routine, a thought flickered in the back of my mind-perhaps it was not just the grace of habit, but the grace of royalty. Maybe she really had been a queen nineteen years ago.

My father's attention remained fixated on his phone, his brows furrowed in concentration as he scrolled through the endless stream of news and updates.

"Your plate is already made," my mother's voice broke through the silence. She motioned behind me before I could take a seat at the table. With a nod of gratitude, I moved to retrieve the plate from the bar, the clatter of utensils echoed in the quiet kitchen.

As we sat down to breakfast, the conversation flowed with practiced ease between my parents, their words laced with the mundane details of daily life. They spoke of plans for the day ahead, of errands to run and tasks to complete. It seemed so irrelevant and boring. Had I imagined the story my parents had told me?

"Why did you guys choose Freedom as your escape?" I asked my mother much later as she stood with me on the porch waiting for my RouteRover ride to take me back to campus.

The morning had passed in a blur. My father and I had one more sparring lesson before he helped me pack up the new clothes my mother had bought me during our shopping spree after lunch. We never spoke about the story they had shared. They continued on with their day as if nothing had changed. Maybe for them, it hadn't. They had lived with this secret for years, but for me, it had upended my world. I had so many questions, yet I didn't know what questions to even ask.

"Because Freedom is decades behind the rest of the world in all of its technological advancement," my mother began, her voice steady. "It gives you the ability and independence to walk around without having to hide your identity. In United Greecia and neighboring countries, your identity would be revealed because you look exactly like Queen Ariadne. Her portrait is displayed in many Greecian buildings and holographic ads throughout cities. She is the heart of Greecia. We didn't know you'd be identical to the queen when we moved here, though. We chose Freedom because of its isolation from most kingdoms and its feud with Greecia. The fact that Freedom had made Greecia a forbidden country meant that no one would know that your violet eyes marked you as the legitimate Cardinal Heir to the Greecian throne."

"Cardinal? Like a gift from a goddess?" I asked, trying to piece together the fragments of the story.

"Exactly. You are the only one in the world with eyes the same shade as sweet violet flowers. A distinction that is a gift directly from Queen Ariadne."

"How so?" I enquired, dropping my backpack at my feet. Grateful that my ride seemed to be running late, I leaned in, eager that my mother was about to be transparent with me for the first time all day.

She glanced back at the open doorway, at my father on the couch, engrossed in the book on his lap. Turning back to me, she continued.

"It was rumored that Ariadne's hyperactive immune system slowed her aging, giving her near-immortality. She ruled alone for thirty years before marrying a warrior, with whom she had six children. Her health declined after each birth, and during her seventh pregnancy, she fell ill and became bedridden. Her husband, Damon, became power-hungry, and Greece struggled under his rule. On her deathbed, Ariadne vowed to always protect her country. Zagreus, the god of rebirth, was moved by her promise, maybe even smitten with her beauty, he answered her prayer."

My mother's fingers fiddled with the pearl necklace around her throat as she continued her story with a rhythmic cadence.

"Ten years after Queen Ariadne died, a baby girl with violet eyes was born into the royal family, marking her as the Legitimate Cardinal Heir to the throne. The violet-eyed child, believed to be Ariadne's reincarnation, repaired the economy and mirrored the late queen's temperament. Each time a violet-eyed queen died, a new one was born five years later. Ariadne always returned as a female, except once when she was reborn as a male with a weakened heart. His father, ashamed and angry, suffocated him in his sleep at age twelve on October thirty-first. Since then, the legitimate cardinal heir has not returned for 170 years."

In the deafening silence that ensued, I reached down, slinging my backpack over my shoulder.
My birthday was October thirty-first . Coincidence or an actual solid connection to Ariadne?

"That story is pure insanity. Do you think I'm a reincarnation of her?" I whispered, rubbing my temples trying to get my throbbing head to comprehend as we walked down the sidewalk to load my luggage in the trunk of the RouteRover.

"I'm not sure, little bug. Your father and I have been wondering that for years." My mother gave me a long lingering hug and I breathed in her comforting scent. She always smelled faintly of vanilla and sugar, probably because of her love for baking.

She kissed me on each cheek just before I climbed into the back seat of my ride, I tossed a quick wave at my father. I didn't miss the concern creasing his brows as he nodded in return. The engine hummed to life, and I settled into the seat, staring out the window as the scenery blurred past.