The world felt fuzzy at first—like waking from a deep sleep where time had become warped and distant. I blinked against the dull light, struggling to bring my surroundings into focus. My body ached, as if I had been through some unimaginable ordeal, but I didn't know what that ordeal was. My eyes scanned the room—familiar, yet foreign. I was in a dimly lit room, the air thick with dust. But there was something different this time.
A soft, steady warmth radiated from my side, and I shifted slightly. That's when I realized someone was there, resting against me.
I froze.
A girl, her dark hair flowing across my lap, cradled in an awkward, uncomfortable position. Her face was peaceful in sleep, though I could sense the faint tremor in her breath. She looked like… *her.*
I stared down at her, the confusion swirling in my mind, and then it clicked. This was my sister, Cassandra. The younger sibling I barely knew, yet had somehow felt a pull toward. I couldn't explain it.
Her presence felt… different. There was no animosity, no resentment in this moment. Just an undeniable sense of something warm.
I nudged her gently, not sure what else to do. My fingers brushed against her hair, and I hesitated. Something about this didn't feel right.
Cassandra stirred, her eyelids fluttering, and then she woke with a gasp.
The moment her eyes focused on me, her expression shifted—relief flooding her face, then confusion, and finally, tears welled up in her eyes. She sat up quickly, wiping them away in a hurried motion.
"I thought you were gone!" she cried, her voice shaking as she choked on her sobs.
I sat up, pushing myself away from the chair slightly, instinctively withdrawing. My chest tightened at the sight of her tears, but the words she had spoken hung in the air like an unspoken question. Gone?
*Gone for what?*
I stared at her, disoriented. "What do you mean?" I asked, my voice rough and distant.
Cassandra's sobs only deepened as she reached out for me, grasping my hands tightly. "You were gone… you were gone for six months!" Her words were strained, but there was no mistaking the raw pain in her eyes.
*Six months?*
The phrase hit me like a cold wave. My mind reeled, but I couldn't understand. Six months? Had I been away that long? Had I *left* the house? It didn't make sense.
I felt my heart race, my thoughts scrambling to make sense of the situation. Why had I left? What had happened in those months? I couldn't remember. The fog over my mind was thick and unforgiving, and no matter how hard I tried to focus, everything just slipped away.
The last thing I could recall was being here, in this very house… but that had been so long ago, hadn't it?
Cassandra wiped her eyes, her hands still clutching mine. "We… we searched everywhere for you," she continued, her voice quiet but filled with the weight of her words. "Mother didn't even care. She didn't—"
She broke off, tears spilling down her cheeks once more, and I felt a tight knot form in my stomach.
*Mother.*
Lady Eryndis. Cold. Detached. Uncaring. Her presence always seemed distant, but this—this was something else. I had no memory of leaving, no memory of what had happened in those six months. But if Cassandra had searched for me, if she had been so desperate to find me… then what had I done?
*Why had I left?*
I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. The weight of Cassandra's pain was too much.
She looked at me, still holding my hands with trembling fingers. "Why did you leave us, Caelum?" Her voice broke as she asked the question that I couldn't answer.
I closed my eyes, trying to block out the churning confusion. The answer should have been there, but it wasn't.
"I… I didn't leave," I said quietly, though my voice felt hollow. "I don't remember leaving."
Her eyes searched mine, disbelief and sadness mingling in her gaze. "How can you not remember?" she whispered, as if the question itself was a betrayal.
I couldn't answer. The truth was, I didn't know.
I had no memory of leaving. No memory of what had happened in those months. But the pain in Cassandra's eyes, the grief that was etched into her face, told me that something had gone horribly wrong.
I turned my gaze downward, looking at our joined hands, and for the first time, I felt a sharp sting of guilt. A pain I hadn't expected. The thought that I had caused this—that my absence had hurt her so much—was unbearable.
"You don't understand," Cassandra whispered, her voice breaking. "It's not just that you were gone. It's… it's that you didn't even care enough to come back. And I…" She trailed off, her breath catching. "I thought you'd never come back."
I squeezed her hands, my heart aching. "Cassandra… I don't know what happened. I don't know why I left. I swear, I didn't mean to hurt you."
Her eyes met mine, full of unshed tears and a deep, painful longing. For a moment, I felt like I was looking at a stranger. I didn't recognize her pain fully. It was a wound I hadn't caused consciously, but it was a wound I could see all too clearly now.
She drew her knees to her chest and buried her face in her arms, sobbing quietly as if she had given up trying to hold herself together.
The guilt weighed heavier, pressing down on me as if the world itself was collapsing on my shoulders. I had no memory of why I had left, but the fact that my sister loved me, and I had hurt her—*that* was real. The silence between us was suffocating.
But before I could speak again, the door creaked open, and I looked up.
Lady Eryndis stood in the doorway, her cold eyes scanning the room, her expression unreadable. For a moment, she said nothing, but the air grew colder just with her presence.
I could feel the tension rise. Cassandra didn't look up from her arms, still crying softly, and I couldn't bring myself to speak either.
"Caelum," my mother's voice was like ice, sharp and emotionless. "It's time."
I didn't know what she meant, but the dread that filled me at the sound of her voice was enough to silence everything else.
Cassandra lifted her head, her tear-streaked face a mixture of defiance and sorrow. She didn't speak, but her gaze met my mother's, and for a moment, something passed between them.
Something unspoken, something *broken*.
I swallowed hard, the reality of the situation setting in like a weight in my chest. I had been gone for six months.
But the bigger question still lingered in my mind. Why?
Why had I left? Why had *I* abandoned them?
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