Ela woke up with a jerk, her head thumping from where she must have banged it against the wall. "Ow," she mumbled, rubbing the sore spot. She laid back down with her eyes fixed on the ceiling, lost in thought about the last time she saw the sky. Whispering to the emptiness around her, she mused, "How long has it been?"
Her heart skipped when she saw the other figure in the room, an exact replica of herself. "This can't be happening," she thought, sitting up so that she could take a closer look. The uncanny resemblance was so complete, it felt like staring into a flawless reflection that somehow possessed its own independent existence.
Intrigued, Ela overcame her short shock and reached out, half-expecting her hand to pass through nothing. Instead, she touched something solid—fabric and hair. It pushed her hand away, obviously annoyed, and repeated her echoing voice. "You're weird."
Ela covered her face in disbelief. She tried to rationalize the situation: "Who are you?"
"I'm Ela," the duplicate responded, sounding both amused and irritated.
Caught between reality and illusion, she asked the ludicrous question, "Do you want to chat?" Something seemed dreamlike in the circumstance, but a great craving for the contact was overriding.
"That's why I'm here," the other Ela said, settling onto the floor.
What had begun as a very awkward meeting had turned into quite an important talk, and it had been her first real run-in with somebody in what had felt like ages. The door creaked open, interrupting their conversation. The guard blinked hard, a jolt of surprise evident on his face. Perhaps he thought he was hallucinating – seeing double Elas in the room
The moment the guard's attention faltered, the second Ela disintegrated into sand, leaving no trace of her existence.
The guard, startled by the sigh, slammed the door shut, his metal armor clanking loudly as he hurried away. Ela couldn't help but let out a frustrated sigh, whispering under her breath, "Really? Was all that drama necessary?" She looked around the now silent room, feeling a mix of anger and sadness at the interruption of her first real conversation in ages. "Great, just my luck," she muttered to herself, settling back onto the floor, her brief moment of connection abruptly ended.
Hours seemed to stretch into eternity in the solitude of her room, each passing moment gnawing at Ela's resolve. Suddenly, the door burst open, shattering the monotony. Ela's heart leaped at the sight of her mentor striding in, a glimmer of hope sparking within her. Before she could utter a word, however, two guards pinned her to the bed, silencing her protests with their firm grip.
"Quiet now," her mentor said, the words slipping out in a whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. a peculiar calmness in her voice. "This... this might be your chance out of here."
Reluctantly, Ela nodded, swallowing her cries of protest. As she lay immobilized, her mentor began a meticulous examination—probing her arms, legs, and back. The invasion of her personal space, under the watchful eyes of the guards, filled Ela with a sense of humiliation, yet she remained silent, hoping for some semblance of an explanation.
When the mentor's hands reached the nape of Ela's neck, she stopped abruptly, a manic joy overtaking her. Clapping her hands and laughing, she seemed to Ela more unhinged than ever.
"What... what's wrong with you?" Ela gasped, a question laced with confusion and fear. Her mentor had always been odd, but this display was beyond anything she'd witnessed.
"Oh, my dear," her mentor exclaimed, still caught in her euphoria. "It's your sigil. You've unsealed it during the ritual. We never knew because it was interrupted, and you... you had no control over it."
As the guards released their hold and stepped back, Ela's mind raced. "My sigil? What is it?"
Tears still glistening in her eyes, her mentor replied, "It's likely related to creating copies of yourself, though the specifics elude me at the moment."
Ela's heart surged with excitement. "This proves my innocence then! It wasn't me."
Her mentor, still basking in her discovery, wagged a finger in front of Ela's face. "Lack of control doesn't absolve you of responsibility. But it will aid in your defense."
"Then let me see my dad. I deserve that much," Ela demanded, a newfound assertiveness in her voice.
The mentor's expression darkened. "Your father... he's been detained for the murder of Mrs. Adelia."
"That's not true! It wasn't him!" Ela yelled, her voice echoing off the walls.
"And you're suggesting it was you?" her mentor retorted with a sly grin.
Ela hesitated, the accusation hanging heavily in the air.
Laughing loudly, her mentor turned to leave. "Don't be too gloomy, my dear. You'll be out of this room soon enough." With that, she exited, the guards following, leaving Ela alone once more, the door clicking shut behind them.
Ela waited. She felt it when the food slid through the hole under the door again. Today, she did something different. She put it on the desk this time, not squatting on the floor. Today, she chose to sit on the chair and eat up everything on her plate, ending with the dessert. Standing up, she moved to her mirror, trying to catch a glimpse of the sigil on her nape. The place was awkward; one couldn't see the spot directly, and she couldn't help but laugh at the remembrance of once trying to show it to Irene.
After her futile attempt, she lay back on her bed, thoughts drifting to her father.
She felt tears well in her eyes as she thought about what would be his fate and their parting, a sense of guilt and helplessness filling her heart. She suddenly sat up and slapped her cheeks lightly. "Stop it, Ela. You're stronger than this," she scolded herself, wiping her tear-streaked face. She closed her eyes and tried to well up the strength of her sigil with determination on her face. Nothing happened. Frustration rose; when was the last time it had? Apparently, out of nothing other than loneliness. "Would it really work if you wanted something that badly?" she wondered, sounding quite daft.
"But that's not how it's supposed to go. Everybody else's sigil is part of them, easy to control. Why's mine so different?" Finally, she gave up, the questions only lingering in her mind, succumbing to sleep.
The next morning, the door opened, and a guard's voice broke the silence. "Get ready."
She followed his instructions to the letter, not asking a single question, and grabbed the first dress that came into her sight. As she followed the guard, curiosity seemed to have the better of her, and she ventured, "Where are we going?
"To meet the palace mage," the guard replied, his voice echoing in the vast hall not slowing his pace as Ela hurried after him. Anxiety gnawed at her, twisting the knots in her stomach tighter with every step. But she kept her turmoil hidden, a mask of forced composure for the guard's Scrutinizing gaze.
They reached the Mage's Quarters, and the guard stopped, gesturing for her to enter. With a last, lingering look at the retreating figure, Ela pushed open the heavy door. The air inside was thick with a strange, musky scent. Her mentor awaited her, an unsettling smile playing on her lips.
"Ela," the mentor began, her smile turning sharper. "Let's be clear. You want your father back, don't you?" She tapped the floor with her stick for emphasis. "Confess. Take the blame, and he walks free. But your freedom comes at a price. You'll spend your days in Veiled Haven."
Ela's heart raced. "Anything for him. But what's Veiled Haven?"
The mentor's smile widened, an unsettling sight that sent shivers down Ela's spine. "Ah, Veiled Haven," she said, the name rolling off her tongue with a practiced ease that sent alarm bells clanging in Ela's head. "It's a place... for those who require a certain... rehabilitation." She paused, letting the silence hang heavy for a moment. "A place shrouded in secrecy, where magic is used to... correct imbalances." Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "They say it's not so bad, Ela. Just a gentle nudge back onto the right path."
Ela's unease deepened. "Gentle nudge? What imbalances? What kind of magic?" Her voice wobbled slightly
The mentor's smile faltered for a brief moment, a flicker of something akin to pity crossing her eyes. But it was quickly replaced by a steely glint. "Those are details best left undiscussed, my dear. Trust me, Veiled Haven is far better than any alternative."
Her gaze snapped to Ela, sharp and intense. The room suddenly felt charged with tension, thick and suffocating. "Prepare yourself, child. You leave on the morrow," she announced, her voice carrying a weight that hinted at the gravity of what lay ahead.
"what do i bring? and what about my father when will he be freed?" Ela's questions bumped into each other as her thoughts raced on what sort of preparation to make for her new life. "Worry not, I will make sure everything is okay." The old woman's words were reassuring, but they fell into Ela's belly like stones.
Flanked by guards, Ela walked back to her room, each step heavy with a dread she couldn't shake. She was about to step out into a place she knew none of, on the word of a mentor she wasn't sure she had to trust. "For how long will I be there?
she wondered, the question echoing in her mind with each step. Her walk to her room had seemed like eternity and yet over in a fraction of a second, the thoughts spiraling in on themselves. The door locked behind her with the click that was never out of place, and a sense of confinement all too well known, washed over her. Only that this time, it would be different. This room would not hold her for much longer. She automatically reached out for her diary, opened on the page that told of the happenings during the first few days of her captivity. She might as well have been packing a piece of her soul into her backpack, something to remind her of who she was before all this happened. She filled the bag with her favourite books, scrolls of noted-up margins, notes, hoarded snacks, and sweets; and last of all, the picture of herself and Irene.
Each item was a lifeline, a piece of her past and present that she wasn't ready to leave behind. Now, in bed, sleep was a stranger. She thought over the memories about Irene. Will she remember me? Will she miss me like I miss her? Each seemed to haunt her, one with the question and another with a thread, pulling through the fabric of her heart.
Yet within the whirlwind of emotions, there flickered to life a spark of something new. The thought that she might at least be able to meet others for the first time in what felt like forever cautiously stirred a hope in her.
Who will they be? how should i introduce myself? But the excitement had two edges to it: along with it came a new flood of anxiety. "What sort of people would they be?" The unknown seemed so big, both thrilling and frightening. Ela fell into an unrestful sleep, her mind already tired from the weight that was the next day. This was her last night in that room. What had been her world, her prison, and strangely enough, her sanctuary. Everything was going to change come tomorrow.