4 Months earlier...
The air was crisp, filled with the buzz of laughter, music, and the scent of pumpkin spice wafting through the Halloween party. Sophia adjusted the black lace of her witch's hat, feeling light and carefree as she stood in a circle of friends, nursing a drink. Her friend, Hayley, nudged her, her eyes wide with fascination as she pointed across the room.
"Look at that dress!" Hayley gasped.
Sophia turned to see what had captured her friend's attention and was immediately drawn in. A woman dressed in an elaborate Victorian gown—corset and all—stood elegantly near the doorway. The deep burgundy fabric shimmered under the dim party lights, its layers sweeping the floor as she moved gracefully through the crowd. The lace gloves, high collar, and jeweled brooch completed the picture of someone who had stepped straight out of the 19th century.
"Wow," Sophia breathed. "That's gorgeous."
"I know, right?" Hayley agreed. "Can you imagine dressing like that every day? I mean, look at it. How do you even breathe in that?"
Sophia chuckled. "I'd rather not think about it. I can barely handle zipping up a regular dress without feeling like I'm about to pop, let alone wear something like that every day. I think I'd pass out before I made it to breakfast."
"You could totally pull it off, though," Hayley teased, a sly grin forming. "Oh! I have an idea. What if you made that the theme for your wedding? It would be iconic!"
Sophia shook her head, laughing. "Absolutely not. There's no way I'm getting laced into something like that for hours."
"What? It could be fun! I bet your fiancé would love that. After all, he's a historian."
"Let's just stick to something where we can breathe, alright?" Sophia replied, her laughter mingling with the background chatter of the party.
✦
Ellira gasped as her eyes snapped open, the cobblestones rattling beneath her as the carriage wheels clattered along. Her body felt stiff, wrapped tightly in layers of fabric that reminded her all too well of the conversation she'd had months ago at that Halloween party. Only now, she wasn't admiring the dress from afar; she was wearing it.
The heavy fabric of the gown weighed down on her, the corset pressing firmly against her ribs, making every breath shallow. She glanced out of the carriage window, her gaze traveling over the high stone walls surrounding the Portchild estate. The estate itself loomed ahead, sprawling and grand, its intricate architecture towering above her. Elegant spires stretched towards the sky, while lush gardens framed the grounds in symmetry.
"Ah. What the hell..." she muttered under her breath, frustration evident on it.
"We're almost there, my lady," Twyla said, glancing out of the window.
Ellira nodded, her eyes widening as the estate gates swung open.
The carriage rolled into the courtyard, and Ellira's breath caught in her throat. Dozens of staff members stood in formation, their uniforms crisp and faces attentive. The sheer number of people alone made her feel dizzy. They all bowed in unison as the carriage came to a stop.
So this is Ellira's life. She mused, struggling to ground herself in the unfamiliar reality.
Twyla helped her out of the carriage. As she stepped down, the scene before her became even more overwhelming. At the forefront of the grand assembly, her 'family' waited. They were beaming, their faces a blend of excitement, curiosity, and affection.
These people—so warm, so eager to see her—had no idea she wasn't the person they thought they knew.
"Ellira!" called a warm voice. A woman with chestnut hair and a flowing gown that mirrored Ellira's own rushed toward her. This is Lady Florence Portchild, Ellira's older sister. She thought.
Good thing she had spent the past few days studying the family portraits with Twyla, her maid, during the long carriage ride. The confused looks Twyla gave her as she helped Ellira 'reacquaint' herself with her own family hadn't gone unnoticed. It seemed strange to her maid, but Ellira brushed it off. Believing that her relentless curiosity would save her, again, from total embarrassment.
Thank you, box of portraits, Ellira silently praised. Still, seeing Florence in person now, with all her vibrant energy, was entirely different from staring at a painted image.
Ellira's heart fluttered with anxiety as Florence approached, and she forced herself to smile despite the knot in her stomach. "Um... hello," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper, hoping it sounded convincing.
Florence beamed as she pulled Ellira into a warm embrace. "Welcome home! We've missed you so much," she said, her voice a mix of joy and relief. There was a genuine warmth in her words, but also something heavier underneath. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the manor these past few months. You know... the wedding and everything." She let out a small sigh, her smile turning wistful. "It broke my heart that you weren't there. You gave us all such a scare when we heard what happened."
Ellira's mind scrambled for something—anything—that felt like the right response, but all she could muster was an awkward smile and a small nod. What could she say? She had no memory of those moments, no connection to the life they were talking about. After all, she wasn't really Ellira back then. Best to let this one slide, she thought, deciding that sometimes silence was the safest answer.
Florence, as if sensing the awkwardness, quickly shifted gears. "But look at you," she said, her expression softening as she stepped back, admiring the gown Ellira wore. "You look beautiful. That dress is stunning on you."
"Thank you," Ellira mumbled, feeling the words escape her lips mechanically.
Standing nearby, another woman approached with a warm, welcoming smile. This was Lady Vivienne Portchild, Ellira's stepmother, and the moment Ellira saw her, it was clear that this woman exuded a kind of effortless grace. Lady Vivienne's posture was regal, her every movement filled with quiet elegance.
"Ellira, my dear," Lady Vivienne greeted, her voice soft but full of affection, as if it could wrap around you like a blanket on a cold day. "It's so wonderful to see you again. How was your journey?"
Ellira blinked, momentarily thrown by the warm and genuine smile Lady Vivienne was giving her. Hold on—she had a nice stepmother? Ellira thought. This girl is lucky as hell. Just yesterday, Twyla had casually dropped the bomb about her father remarrying after her mother passed, and She'd been bracing herself for the classic movie villain—the icy, distant type who would serve polite smiles and a subtle air of "you don't belong here." But this? A stepmother who actually seemed kind, likeable even? Yeah, this was way off the script she'd been expecting.
Ellira gave a small, unsure smile. Her mind racing for something to say. "Um, it was... fine," she stammered, fumbling to piece together a coherent response.
"My daughter.. welcome home," A man said, his voice deep and rich.
This must be Ellira's father, she thought, her eyes drifting to the man standing beside her elegant stepmother. Marcus Portchild, tall and commanding, exuded an air of authority. His silver-streaked hair and sharp jawline gave him a distinguished look, but it was his eyes that caught her attention—warm, with a mix of concern and affection, like he was seeing her for the first time in years and wasn't sure if she was the same girl he remembered.
Ellira felt her pulse quicken, but she managed a curtsy, the weight of her gown making the movement awkward. "Thank you, uh... Father," she replied, the word feeling foreign and awkward on her tongue. It was strange—unsettling, even—calling someone else's father her own.
Then, a girl around her age bounded toward her, radiating excitement. "Ellira! Finally! I can't believe you're here! I've missed you so much!"
Ellira felt a flicker of warmth from the girl's enthusiasm, but her mind went blank. Shit. She couldn't remember who this was. She vaguely recalled Ellira having two stepsisters and three half-sisters, two of whom were close to her age, but the names? Gone. Her heart raced as she scrambled for something to say. "It's great to see you too, uh..."
The girl looked at her, waiting for the next thing she'll say, amusement twinkling in her eyes as she watched Ellira's clear confusion. Then she let out a soft laugh, delicately covering her mouth with a handkerchief. "It's Caroline, dear sister. I figured you might be a bit... confused."
Ellira chuckled awkwardly. "Oh, right... of course! You and, uh, your twin-yeah, you two look... so alike."
The rest of the family chuckled softly, clearly entertained. Right, she thought, her memory finally catching up. Twins. Caroline and Anneliese.
Speaking of Anneliese. Ellira glanced around, hoping to spot someone who looked similar to Caroline. Before she could ask, her stepmother chimed in, her voice warm. "Lee isn't here, my dear. Off on one of her wild adventures again."
Ellira nodded, trying to act like she knew exactly what that meant. "Right, of course. Lee being Lee, huh?"
Lady Vivienne smiled knowingly. "Precisely. You'll catch up with her when she decides to rejoin us."
Ellira let out a small chuckle, mentally noting that Anneliese was the free-spirited one.
Three younger Portchild girls, all under twelve as Ellira vaguely recalled, rushed toward her with giggles and bright eyes, their curiosity bubbling over. Ellira smiled at them, and they instantly took it as an invitation to swarm around her, tugging at her dress and chattering away.
She recognized one—Isolde, the girl with the curly brown hair and wide hazel eyes. The only reason Ellira remembered her was because, in the family portrait she had seen, Isolde was doing a peace sign while everyone else looked poised and proper. It had made Ellira laugh a little. The other two? Names escaped her.
"Can we see your dress?" Isolde asked, practically bouncing on her toes.
"It's so pretty!" Another girl chimed in, tugging at the fabric with tiny fingers. She had short, wavy blonde hair and bright green eyes.
Ellira felt a wave of warmth at their enthusiasm. "Thank you, little ones," she said, kneeling down to meet their gazes. "But I'm afraid I'm terrible with names. Remind me who you are?"
"I'm Izzy!" Isolde said proudly, her curls bouncing around her shoulders.
"I'm Clara!" the blonde girl added, puffing out her chest like she'd just won an award. "And that's Tammy!" She pointed toward a shy girl lingering behind Florence, peeking out from behind her skirts. "she's a bit shy, but she can talk to animals!" Clara added.
She can talk to animals? Aww. That's cute. She thought.
"Hi..." Tammy squeaked, peeking out shyly from behind Florence, her voice barely above a whisper.
Before Ellira could respond, Izzy bounced in front of her, full of energy. "Oh! Oh! My aura is Dreamwalking!" she declared, grinning like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Ellira blinked, amused by their enthusiasm but utterly lost. Dreamwalking? What does that even mean? Still, she smiled and nodded. "Oh really? What does that do?"
Izzy leaned in like she was sharing some top-secret information. "I can enter other people's dreams. I've done it before. A few times." She gave an exaggerated, knowing nod.
Ellira raised her eyebrows. Wow. This girl's imagination is on a whole different level.
Not to be outdone, Clara piped up, practically vibrating with excitement. "Mine's speed manipulation! Do you want to see?"
Ellira barely had time to respond, still processing the idea of 'dreamwalking.' "Uh... sure?" she said hesitantly, half expecting another wild story.
But before she could ask what speed manipulation even meant, Clara crouched down, her foot poised like an Olympic sprinter. And then—whoosh.
Ellira didn't even have time to blink. One moment, Clara was crouched, and the next, she was standing right in front of her again after disappearing for like a snap of a finger, a smug grin on her face. The rest of the family erupted in applause, cheering Clara on like this was totally normal.
Meanwhile, Ellira just stood there, still crouched on the ground, her brain scrambling to catch up. What the hell did I just witness? Did she seriously just sprint around the estate in a literal blink?
"Come on, Tamsin, dear. Show your sister your aura," Lady Vivienne encouraged, gesturing for Tammy to step forward.
Tammy shuffled hesitantly, fidgeting with her dress, clearly feeling the weight of the moment. "T-this is mine..." she stammered, her cheeks flushed. After a brief moment of gathering her courage, she closed her eyes and concentrated.
Suddenly, a small bird flitted down from a nearby tree, followed by a parade of various birds and a couple of curious squirrels. They gathered around her, chirping and chattering as if they were old friends. Tammy opened her eyes, a beaming smile lighting up her face as she greeted her furry and feathered audience. With another flutter of her lashes, she closed her eyes again, and in an instant, the animals went away.
What. The. Actual. Fuck? Ellira's jaw dropped, and her knees buckled beneath her, sending her plopping down onto the grass. She felt a bizarre mix of emotions—lost, confused, amused, and maybe just a bit scared. Was she hallucinating? Had she accidentally ingested something strange? It felt like she'd stumbled into an alternate reality where magic was just another Tuesday afternoon.
Everyone around her looked utterly unfazed, as if watching a little girl summon animals was the most mundane thing imaginable. Ellira couldn't help but chuckle nervously to herself. Okay, so I'm definitely not on earth anymore...