The morning sunlight streamed through the stained-glass window, casting a kaleidoscope of light and shadow across the floor, infusing Eira's room with a warm glow. Yet, Eira's heart remained shrouded in a veil of gloom. The vivid dream that had felt so real lingered like a persistent shadow, robbing her of peace. The events of the previous night's nightmare were so vivid that she could still feel the icy touch of the blade piercing her flesh, and the despair and terror that had consumed her in her final moments.
Sitting at her vanity, Eira gazed at her reflection. The young woman staring back had ebony hair cascading like a waterfall, porcelain skin, delicate features, and deep, azure eyes that held a solemnity and depth beyond her years – a weathering of the soul that seemed incongruous with her youthful body.
"My lady, you look so beautiful today," Mary, Eira's longtime maid, remarked as she gently brushed Eira's silken tresses, handling them with the care one would give to a precious work of art.
Eira managed a faint smile, but remained silent. Mary had been her devoted attendant since childhood, caring for her with unwavering devotion. Eira knew Mary was genuinely concerned for her, but she could not bring herself to confide the unease and terror that gripped her, for she did not fully understand the fragmented memories and the unfamiliar name that haunted her. The grand palace, the solemn court, and the web of political intrigue in the dream were so at odds with the world she inhabited.
"Mary, do you believe in past lives?" Eira suddenly asked, her voice low and tinged with bewilderment. She placed the silver brush down, her gaze unfocused as if lost in contemplation.
Mary's hands paused momentarily, and she looked up at Eira, surprise flickering in her eyes. "My lady, what has prompted this question?" she inquired, concerned that the lingering nightmares had unsettled Eira's thoughts.
"It's nothing, I was just wondering," Eira shook her head, unwilling to elaborate. She did not know how to explain to Mary the terrifying, yet painfully real, visions that had her questioning her own identity and origins.
Mary did not press the matter further, and continued tending to Eira's appearance. She selected a pale blue gown for Eira, the skirt embroidered with delicate silver patterns, cinched at the waist with a matching sash that accentuated her slender figure. Mary then adorned Eira with a pearl necklace, the lustrous gems complementing her fair complexion and enhancing her natural beauty.
As Eira studied her reflection, the image of the regal, yet sorrowful, woman in the purple robe from her dream kept resurfacing in her mind. The woman had the same countenance as Eira, yet her fate seemed so vastly different.
"Leila..." Eira whispered the unfamiliar name, as if calling out to a long-lost soul, yet also speaking to herself. The name was like a lightning bolt piercing the fog of her memories, triggering faint, hazy recollections.
"My lady, what did you say?" Mary asked, having not clearly heard Eira's murmur.
"It's nothing," Eira replied, shaking her head and suppressing the unease within. She rose from her seat, pacing the room, attempting to untangle the chaos of her thoughts. The vivid dream and the persistent name echoing in her mind gave her a strong premonition that something was about to change.
After breakfast, Eira wandered into the garden. While the Erikr family's garden lacked the grandeur of noble estates, it was still a charming, well-tended oasis. Vibrant flowers bloomed in a riot of colors, their sweet fragrance filling the air and lifting the spirits. Dappled sunlight filtered through the swaying leaves, as if the branches were beckoning Eira to immerse herself in this floral haven.
As Eira strolled among the flowerbeds, she tried to use the beauty around her to dispel the shadows in her heart. However, the vivid dream persisted, growing clearer and more tangible with each passing moment, fueling her unease. The scenes played like cinematic fragments in her mind, impossible to ignore.
Eira found a stone bench in a secluded corner, nestled beneath a towering wisteria tree. The delicate purple blossoms cascaded from the branches, like a flowing, fragrant waterfall. Butterflies danced among the flowers, and bees hummed, infusing the tranquil garden with life.
Eira reached out, gently caressing the wisteria blooms, their soft petals and sweet scent reminding her of the woman named Leila from her dream. In the vision, there had also been a sea of these purple flowers, their beauty captivating.
"Leila..." Eira murmured the name once more, as if calling out to a kindred spirit. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the familiar sensation of the petals and the floral fragrance, hoping to uncover some connection to the haunting memories.
Suddenly, Eira felt a strange, powerful energy surge from her palm, flowing through her fingertips and into the wisteria. It was a warm, potent force, somehow familiar and comforting, as if it emanated from the depths of her very soul.
Eira watched in astonishment as the wilting wisteria blooms were rejuvenated before her eyes. The petals regained their fullness and vibrant hue, as if time had reversed, restoring them to their prime. The once-faded flowers now glistened with vitality, and their scent intensified, filling the air.
Eira quickly withdrew her hand, staring at the revitalized wisteria, overwhelmed by confusion and unease. She did not understand the nature of this power, this ability that felt both familiar and utterly foreign, as if it were an inherent part of her, yet also from a different realm altogether.
"My lady, are you alright?" a concerned voice called out from behind Eira.
Eira turned to see the captain of her guard, Roy, approaching with a look of worry. Roy was an experienced and capable warrior, loyal and vigilant, always quietly watching over Eira's safety. He had witnessed Eira's unusual behavior and was concerned for her wellbeing.
"I'm fine, Roy," Eira replied, trying to conceal her inner turmoil. She did not know how to explain the strange power she had just witnessed, or the deep-seated fear and uncertainty that gripped her.
"I see," Roy nodded, not pressing the matter further, but his gaze remained fixed on Eira, a hint of suspicion in his eyes. As a seasoned soldier, he had detected Eira's distress and was determined to quietly observe and protect her.
Eira knew Roy had likely noticed something amiss, but she could not find the words to explain. She could only stand up and prepare to leave the garden, needing solitude to sort through the chaos in her mind and uncover the truth.
Just as she began to move, Eira suddenly felt a wave of dizziness wash over her, and her vision darkened as she started to collapse backward. Fragmented images flooded her mind, causing a splitting headache.
"My lady!" Roy rushed forward, catching Eira in his arms before she fell. He cradled her, calling out her name desperately, trying to rouse her.
As Eira's consciousness slipped away, she thought she saw a pair of familiar hazel eyes, their icy gaze filled with betrayal and malice, like the eyes of a venomous serpent, filling her with dread.