The palace guards snapped to attention as they approached, their synchronized bows creating a wave of deference that rippled through the corridors. Rose's eyes swept across the familiar yet changed interior, taking in the subtle alterations that decades had wrought. New tapestries hung where old ones had been, depicting battles she didn't recognize, victories won in her absence.
Her gaze climbed the soaring walls until it found what she was looking for—a massive mural dominating the eastern wall. There she was, frozen in crystallized memory, her younger self wielding twin blades of fire and ice as she carved through an entire battalion. The artist had captured the moment perfectly: Rose's hair whipping behind her like liquid shadow, her eyes blazing with elemental fury, enemy forces scattering like leaves before a hurricane.
