Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I’m Stuck as Their Baby!

POV: Elyzara

The artifact pulsed on the stone pedestal like it had a heartbeat. Slow. Deep. Ancient.

I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, staring down at it like it might sprout legs and bolt from the room. Honestly, I wouldn't have blamed it. It was a small, obsidian sphere etched with glowing runes I couldn't read at least not out loud. The glow wasn't warm. It was the kind of light that looked like it remembered death and wanted to talk about it.

Velka stood beside me, arms folded, eyes narrowed in a very "why-am-I-here" sort of way. She'd been suspicious since I asked her to follow me to the empty training hall at dusk. Suspicious became "mildly annoyed" when I locked the door behind us and even more so when I drew the runic circle in chalk and refused to explain anything. We were now firmly in "deeply suspicious and vaguely offended" territory.

"Tell me again," she said slowly, "why I had to come along for your weird magical rock ritual."

"Because," I muttered, kneeling to adjust the final line of the sigil, "I think it reacts to you too."

She blinked. "You think?"

"It's just a theory."

She arched an eyebrow. "Based on?"

[A mysterious, all-powerful, possibly unlicensed voice in your head,] the system chimed in dryly. [Do you want me to add sparkles when you say it out loud?]

"Based on vibes," I said aloud, deciding to go with the least suspicious answer.

Velka groaned and leaned against the wall. "Why do I let you drag me into things?"

"Because deep down," I said, uncapping the tiny flask of moon-silver ink I may or may not have stolen from Mara, "you're curious."

"I'm deeply offended by how right you are."

The runes on the floor began to glow softly the moment the ink touched the final line, lines weaving like veins through the chalk until the entire circle pulsed gently.

"All right," I breathed, taking a deep breath. "Here goes nothing."

[Correction:] The system's voice was oddly reverent. [Here goes everything.]

I reached for the incantation the system had etched into my memory—ancient words in a tongue I shouldn't know but somehow did. They felt like thunder on my tongue, a storm made of syllables.

As I spoke, the artifact rose into the air with a low hum, glowing brighter. The magic filled the room like water, thick and dense, pressure building behind my eyes and in my lungs. Velka stepped closer, gaze locked on the floating sphere, tension in her body like a drawn bow.

Then came the pull.

A soft snap, like threads catching.

The room blurred.

We were no longer standing.

We were seated on twin thrones, black and white, high above a sea of people who bowed before us. I was older. So was she. My silver hair fell in heavier waves, threaded with gold and fire. She sat straight-backed beside me, regal and sharp in midnight armor, her eyes glowing softly red beneath a black crown.

A crowd chanted a name.

Two names.

Ours.

The air shimmered with heat and awe and something deeper—something ancient. Velka turned toward me in the vision. Her hand reached for mine.

And then light fractured. Sound shattered.

We were back.

The artifact dropped to the ground with a quiet ping.

I swayed on my feet, and Velka grabbed my arm to steady me. Her hand lingered longer than necessary. Her cheeks were dusted in pink.

"Did you see?" I began, voice hoarse.

She nodded quickly. "Yes. I—Isaw."

Silence stretched between us like something alive. And in the silence, the magic residue still buzzed in my bones. I looked at her, really looked at her, and said the stupidest possible thing:

"I think you're destabilizing my magical equilibrium."

She blinked at me. "What."

"I mean when you're close things… change. In me. The magic reacts. I react. I'm different."

Velka's mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

Then, in one motion, she took my hand, blushed violently, and whispered, "To stabilize the resonance. Don't get ideas."

I immediately got ideas.

My brain was still processing the phrase "twin thrones" when:

BANG.

The door flew open.

"I KNEW YOU TWO WERE DOING SOMETHING WEIRD," Riven shouted, stumbling in with the grace of a startled goat.

Velka yelped and leapt backward like she'd touched a live rune.

I dropped her hand like it burned.

Aria peeked in behind him, holding a bag of fruit snacks. "We were just checking. Because you've both been acting strange. Not that we're spying. Obviously."

Velka's eyes had gone wide and horrified. "I'm going to set his eyebrows on fire."

"You'll have to find them first," I muttered.

Riven leaned against the doorframe, grinning like a cat who'd just walked in on a scandal. "Well, well, well. Look who's blushing like a corrupted soul crystal."

"GET OUT," Velka and I said in perfect unison.

Aria gave us a thumbs-up and threw a snack packet into the room before yanking Riven back by the collar.

The door slammed.

Silence returned.

Velka stared at the floor. I stared at her.

"I'm different when you're around," I said again, softer this time.

She looked up.

Her expression unreadable.

And then without a word she turned and bolted from the room like a shadow with somewhere very important to be.

I stared at the artifact.

It pulsed once more… like it was laughing at me.

[Well,] the system said smugly, [you did want to unlock ancient memories. I'd say we're doing spectacularly. Also: you're doomed.]

I groaned and sat down hard on the floor.

*********

I didn't slow down until I'd reached the safety of my dorm room, slamming the heavy wooden door behind me with enough force to rattle the paintings on the wall. I leaned against it, my chest rising and falling in frantic rhythm as I tried and utterly failed to steady my pulse.

"That was a disaster," I whispered to the empty room, staring accusingly at my shaking hands as if they had betrayed me personally.

The quiet that settled around me was oppressive, mocking. Outside, rain had begun to fall, tapping gently on the windowpanes, punctuating my spiraling thoughts with a steady, accusatory rhythm.

"What was I thinking?" I murmured, pressing my fingertips to my burning cheeks, as though the blush itself might be contagious. "Taking her hand to stabilize the resonance? Did I really say that?"

My reflection in the mirror opposite me offered no comfort. My normally calm, composed features were flushed, eyes wide and frantic like a startled deer caught in torchlight. My hair, usually impeccably neat, had decided today was the perfect day to rebel, curling slightly from the residual magic still humming through me.

"I'm losing my mind," I told my reflection flatly. "This is what insanity looks like."

Great. Now I was talking to mirrors. Like that ever went well.

A knock on the door made me jump, heart lodging itself firmly in my throat. For one horrible moment, I thought Elyzara had followed me, probably to politely inform me that I'd left behind what little dignity I still possessed.

"Who is it?" I called, trying desperately to sound calm and failing spectacularly.

"It's Aria!" came the cheerful, far-too-bright voice. "Can I come in?"

I sighed deeply, mentally cursing the cruel fates. "One second."

I pulled open the door a crack, hoping she wouldn't notice my state of absolute panic. Aria stood there, a small, reassuring smile on her face.

"Just checking you're okay," she said gently. "You seemed… a little freaked out back there. You know, when Riven made an absolute spectacle of himself. Again."

"A little?" I said faintly, stepping back to let her inside. "Is that how it looked?"

Aria grinned sympathetically, taking a seat carefully on the edge of my bed. "If it helps, Elyzara looked just as mortified."

"Great." I sank into a nearby chair, burying my face briefly in my hands. "Absolutely perfect."

Aria leaned forward, eyes sparkling with barely contained curiosity. "So… are you going to tell me what happened, or should I continue making guesses?"

"You really don't have to—"

"Oh, I already have a full list," she interrupted cheerfully. "Forbidden rituals? Dark magic experiments? Secret declarations of love in ancient tongues?"

I groaned aloud, feeling my face burn hotter. "Please stop."

"You can't leave me like this," Aria laughed, waving her hand dramatically. "My imagination is far worse than reality."

"I sincerely doubt that," I muttered darkly.

"Try me."

I sighed deeply, admitting defeat. "Fine. We activated some kind of artifact. There was a vision. We… saw ourselves. Older. Together."

Aria's eyes widened in delight. "Ohhh. A prophecy of true love?"

"No!" I snapped, entirely too quickly. "At least… I don't think so."

She raised an eyebrow knowingly. "Yet, here you are, red as a sunset and vibrating with panic. Totally normal friendship behavior."

I threw a pillow in her direction, but she dodged gracefully, laughing brightly. "Admit it. You feel something for Elyzara."

I glared at her from behind my fingers. "Please don't say that out loud. Ever again."

"You held her hand," she pointed out gleefully. "That's basically a proposal in your weird vampire culture, right?"

I stared blankly. "Who told you that nonsense?"

"Riven."

"Of course he did." I groaned again, considering briefly if I could transfer schools—or possibly realms.

She moved to sit closer, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Jokes aside, Velka… if you feel something, maybe it's time to stop running."

"I'm not running," I protested weakly.

"You literally sprinted here like Smaug was chasing you with a torch," she countered gently.

I sighed deeply, eyes fixed on my knees. "It's complicated."

Aria shrugged sympathetically. "Most important things are."

I glanced at her sideways, uncertain. "What if… what if it's not just me? What if it's magic, destiny, some ancient bond?"

Aria smiled kindly. "Does it matter? If the feelings are real, does it matter where they come from?"

I stared at her in disbelief. "Yes. Obviously."

She laughed, squeezing my shoulder. "Then figure it out. You're smart. You're brave—"

"Apparently, I'm also incredibly foolish," I interjected flatly.

"Maybe," she conceded. "But those things aren't mutually exclusive."

We sat quietly for a moment, the silence oddly comforting. Eventually, Aria stood, brushing imaginary dust from her skirt. "Well, my work here is done. Think about it, all right?"

I nodded slowly, still feeling slightly dazed. "Thanks, Aria."

She winked, heading for the door. "Always happy to rescue a damsel in denial."

She slipped out before I could retort, the door clicking softly shut behind her. Alone again, I stared at my reflection, half-expecting it to offer some profound advice.

It merely stared back, judgmental as ever.

I sighed and slumped back against the chair, staring at the ceiling as though it might contain answers.

Memories stirred gently, images flashing through my mind the vision we'd shared. Elyzara, confident and regal, with her eyes blazing brighter than any fire. The warmth of her hand in mine, steadying me even as the magic threatened to overwhelm.

And beneath those images, something older, deeper memories that felt too clear, too powerful to be simple dreams.

"Why her?" I whispered softly. "Why us?"

As if to answer, the shadows at the corner of the room flickered. From the darkness, a form stepped forward slowly, silent as silk.

I froze, breath catching sharply. My heart began racing again, but this time not from embarrassment. From fear.

The figure that emerged from the shadows was familiar, terrifyingly familiar my older self, wrapped in flowing black robes embroidered in silver runes. Her eyes glowed softly red, as calm and unreadable as moonlight.

"You're asking the wrong questions," my older self murmured gently, voice smooth and hypnotic. "It's not why. It's when."

"W-what?" I stammered, half-rising from my chair, panic thrumming through me.

She moved closer, the edges of her form shimmering slightly. "It was always meant to be. Time circles endlessly. Your souls remember even when you do not."

"Tell me clearly!" I demanded, voice shaking. "What does this mean?"

She smiled faintly, sadly. "Your bond was forged in fire and darkness, long ago. You must remember fully—or lose each other again. The choice will soon come."

Before I could say anything else, she dissolved, shadows reclaiming the space she'd occupied. I stared into the empty room, heart hammering wildly, mind spinning with unanswered questions.

Slowly, I lowered myself back into the chair, trying desperately to process this new revelation.

"Remember fully?" I whispered. "What do we need to remember?"

Outside, the storm intensified, rain now pounding insistently against the windows like an impatient hand.

The past and present blurred dangerously close, leaving me feeling more lost than ever.

Yet beneath my confusion, beneath the fear and embarrassment and uncertainty, something else stirred quietly.

Hope.

Fragile, terrifying, beautiful hope.

Because somewhere, deep within my soul, I already knew one thing with perfect certainty.