The brightness was overwhelming, as if the sun itself had been captured and condensed into a single, blinding moment. Jasmine felt weightless, suspended in a void where pain no longer existed. The transition was seamless—one moment she was fading in a hospital bed, grief crushing her chest, and the next she was floating through this endless radiance.
Time had no meaning here. It could have been seconds or centuries that she drifted, cocooned in warmth. Gradually, the light began to shift, taking form around her. Jasmine felt her consciousness solidifying, her thoughts becoming clearer, sharper.
Then came sensation—the gentle pressure of being held, cradled against something soft. The brightness dimmed enough for her to perceive shapes, colors bleeding into her vision like watercolors on wet paper. Jasmine blinked, her new eyes struggling to focus.
Above her, a face materialized—a woman with features so perfect they seemed carved from moonlight itself. Her skin glowed with an inner luminescence, framed by flowing hair that shifted between silver and lavender depending on how the light caught it. Her eyes were the most striking—deep pools of violet that seemed to contain galaxies, ancient and knowing.
"Welcome, little one," the woman whispered, her voice like wind chimes in a gentle breeze. "Your journey begins anew."
Jasmine tried to speak, but her mouth wouldn't form words. Instead, a small, unfamiliar sound escaped her lips—the cry of an infant. Panic surged through her as realization dawned. The tiny hands she saw reaching upward were her own. The small body wrapped in silken cloth belonged to her.
She had been reborn.
Memories of her past life flooded her mind—Lila and Mei, their father, the accident, the failed revenge, the hospital. Yet remarkably, these memories didn't bring pain, only a profound understanding that felt beyond her years.
"Yes, you remember," the ethereal woman said, reading her thoughts. "Few souls retain their memories across the veil, but yours is special, Jasmine. Your love for your sisters was so powerful it transcended death itself."
The woman rose, carrying Jasmine to a window that overlooked a landscape unlike anything she had ever seen. Rolling hills of emerald grass stretched toward mountains that gleamed like amethyst in the distance. The sky above was painted in impossible hues of pink and gold, while twin suns—one silver, one gold—hung low on the horizon.
"This is Aethoria," the woman explained, her voice melodic. "A realm between realms. You are the first human soul to be reborn here in a thousand years."
Jasmine's infant eyes widened, trying to absorb the magnificence of this new world. Crystal spires rose from the valley below, a city that seemed built from light itself. Beings with translucent wings flitted between towers, while others walked paths that glimmered like stardust.
"I am Belga, a High Elf skilled in Spirit Magic, which allows me to see your past life. In this new life, I am your mother. You have an older sister, but she is currently with your father."
Your father is Gaelen, a Master of Dimensional Magic. They've been waiting for you."
Jasmine felt a flutter of emotion at the mention of a sister. After losing Lila and Mei, the thought of having family again filled her with both hope and trepidation. But questions swirled in her infant mind: Why was she here? What purpose did this rebirth serve?
As if sensing her thoughts, Belga smiled. "In time, all will be revealed. Your soul was chosen, Jasmine. The trauma you endured, the love you still carry—these make you uniquely suited for what lies ahead."
Days passed in a blur of new sensations. Despite her adult consciousness, Jasmine was trapped in an infant's body, dependent on Belga for everything. It was both frustrating and humbling. Each night, Belga would sing lullabies in a language that seemed to shimmer in the air, words that Jasmine somehow understood despite never having heard them before.
On the seventh day, the door to their chamber opened, and a tall, imposing figure entered. His hair was the color of midnight, adorned with silver threads that resembled stars. His eyes matched Belga's in their otherworldly depth, but where hers were violet, his were a deep blue that reminded Jasmine of Earth's oceans.
"Gaelen," Belga greeted him warmly. "She's awake."
Behind him trailed a small girl, perhaps five years old by human standards, though Jasmine somehow knew that time worked differently here. The child had her mother's silver-lavender hair but her father's oceanic eyes. She approached Jasmine's cradle cautiously.
"This is Lyra," Belga said. "Your sister."
Lyra peered at Jasmine, her expression a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty. "She doesn't look special," the girl said bluntly.
Gaelen chuckled, a sound like distant thunder. "Neither did you when you were her size, little star." He turned his attention to Jasmine, studying her with an intensity that seemed to peer into her very soul. "But she is special. Her aura is unlike anything I've seen—part human, part something else entirely."
"Will she remember her Earth sisters?" Lyra asked, surprising Jasmine. How did this child know about Lila and Mei?
"She already does," Belga answered. "And that memory will be her greatest strength—and perhaps her greatest weakness."
Gaelen nodded solemnly. "The Council will want to see her soon. They've felt her arrival. The prophecy speaks of a soul twice-born who carries the memory of love and loss."
Jasmine felt a chill despite the warmth of her blankets. Prophecy? Council? What had she been reborn into?
"Not yet," Belga said firmly. "She needs time to adjust, to grow. The human souls
that cross the veil rarely retain their memories, and none have ever been born into our kind. She is unique."
"She is dangerous," Gaelen countered, though his voice held no malice. "The Shadowbound will sense her too. If the prophecy is true, she's the key they've been seeking."
Jasmine's infant mind raced with questions. Shadowbound? A key to what? She wanted to cry out in frustration at her inability to speak, to demand answers.
As if sensing her distress, Lyra reached into the cradle and placed a small hand on Jasmine's forehead. The touch was electric, sending warmth cascading through Jasmine's tiny body.
"Don't worry," Lyra whispered, her voice suddenly older, wiser than her appearance suggested. "I'll teach you everything. We're sisters now."
In that moment, something shifted inside Jasmine—a connection forming between her and this strange child that felt oddly familiar. It reminded her of the bond she'd shared with Lila and Mei, yet it was different—deeper, more primal, as if their very souls were intertwining.
Belga gasped softly. "Lyra, what have you done?"
The girl withdrew her hand, looking slightly guilty. "Soul-binding. I just wanted to help her feel less alone."
Gaelen knelt beside his daughter, his expression a mixture of pride and concern. "That magic is beyond your years, little star. Soul-binding is ancient magic, rarely attempted even by the High Council."
"I didn't try," Lyra said simply. "It just happened."
Jasmine felt the connection pulsing between them, a golden thread tying her to this new sister. Through it, she sensed fragments of Lyra's thoughts—her excitement at having a sister, her fear of the "Shadowbound," her determination to protect Jasmine.
"It's done now," Belga sighed, looking between her daughters with newfound worry. "The binding cannot be undone. Your fates are now intertwined."
Gaelen straightened, his tall form casting a long shadow in the ethereal light. "We must accelerate her training then. If they're bound, Lyra's magic will flow to her, and she'll need to learn control quickly." He glanced out the window toward the crystal city. "And we must inform the Council immediately. This changes everything."
"What about her human limitations?" Belga asked, gently stroking Jasmine's cheek.
"We don't know that she has any," Gaelen replied. "No human has ever been reborn as one of us. She may develop abilities beyond our understanding."