There was heat.
The sharp scent of blood. A scream cut short. The crush of bodies fleeing in panic.
Elise Fontaine remembered it all. The warehouse is on the outskirts of Marseille. The terrified eyes of the girls she had promised to save. The moment she stepped between them and the traffickers' gun. The pain was instant—white-hot and absolute. Then darkness.
And then… light.
A golden radiance like sunlight refracted through crystal poured over her, chasing the pain away. She opened her eyes to a sky of deep rose and lilac, streaked with clouds that shimmered like silk. Petals floated through the air without wind, and the scent of honey and jasmine filled her lungs.
She sat up slowly on a bed of soft moss, her breath catching in her throat.
Her body—foreign, familiar—was clothed in flowing silks of white and midnight blue, edged with silver lace that pulsed faintly with magic. Her skin was flawless, almost luminous, and her once-dark hair now fell in soft waves of moonlight silver, cascading down her back.
Her figure was lean, elegant, and undeniably alluring—her posture instinctively poised with grace and allure, but not in a way that invited attention. Rather, it commanded it.
She turned toward a small reflecting pool nearby, her heart pounding.
The woman in the water was a vision—beautiful beyond reason, but with a look in her pale blue eyes that carried storms. Her ears were subtly curved, her cheekbones sharp, and a faint, shimmering mark rested above her brow: a crescent intertwined with a flame.
She had become an Aetherial—a rare and ancient race, said to be born from stardust and desire, known for both their radiant beauty and their mastery over emotion-based magic.
It was… ironic.
And fitting.
Her powers surged faintly within—Purity Veil. SHe can cleanse corruption, obsession, or mind control. When she embraces her lust side, she can charm others or weaken enemies through desire.
As she tested her legs, a voice called out.
"You shouldn't be alone in Moonvale Grove," said a man cloaked in forest colours. He bore a staff and carried a lantern glowing with blue fire. His face was kind, weathered. A ranger of some kind.
"You… fell from the sky."
Elise blinked. "Did I?"
He nodded slowly. "We sometimes see it. When the gods mark someone."
She smiled, brushing dew from her sleeves. "I don't remember much. Only… that I was protecting someone."
The ranger offered her water and a roll of dried fruit, speaking gently about the village nearby. She nodded, listening, but inside her mind, a deeper truth churned.
She remembered the chessboard. The voice of the gods. The designation burned into her soul: Chastity and Lust.
And when she tried to say it—tried to speak the words aloud to the ranger—her throat seized. The divine seal worked its magic, muting her speech like a velvet gag. The truth was locked away. No one outside the proxies could know.
Fine. She would carry that truth alone.
Elise followed the ranger through the grove, her senses alert. Every step brought with it a thrum of temptation—magic that resonated with passion, longing, and control. Her gift was powerful. Dangerous. Addictive.
It would be easy to manipulate. To seduce. To dominate.
But that wasn't who she was.
Not anymore.
She remembered the faces of the women she'd tried to save. The cost of failure. The fire in her blood when she fought for them.
She may have been chosen for lust and chastity, but she knew what her purpose was.
She would walk the path of restraint—not because she was immune to desire, but because she understood its weight.
Elise Fontaine would not let the gods turn her into a puppet of seduction.
She would master this power.
And she would use it to protect, to guide… and to punish, if necessary.
Let the divine game begin.