Ever since the miraculous revival of the African violet, Eira had been restless, as if hidden currents were stirring beneath the calm surface of a lake. She could clearly sense a change within herself, a transformation she could neither understand nor control. The strange power, like a slumbering beast, would occasionally reveal its sharp claws, displaying astonishing abilities, filling her with both fear and a curious excitement. These two vastly different emotions intertwined, tearing at her sanity, leaving her utterly adrift.
Eira tried to harness that power once more, hoping to uncover its true nature, its origins, and why it had manifested within her. But no matter how hard she tried, the power seemed to have vanished, as if it were playing a game of hide-and-seek, never to be found. Eira did not know if her methods were flawed or if the power had simply abandoned her, and this uncertainty only added to her unease.
At night, Eira lay in bed, unable to sleep. Outside, the darkness was deep, with only a scattering of faint stars dotting the sky. Occasional nightingale calls echoed, lending an eerie atmosphere to the stillness. Eira tossed and turned, unable to escape the restlessness and anxiety that gripped her. The vivid dream and the mysterious power continued to haunt her, robbing her of peace.
"Leila..." Eira whispered the unfamiliar name, attempting to piece together the fragmented memories. But beyond that name, which felt both familiar and foreign, she could recall nothing.
Suddenly, Eira heard a faint voice in her ear, as if it were carried from a distant place, broken and yet distinct. "Leila... my child... you are Leila..." The voice was ancient and kindly, tinged with a subtle sadness and resignation, as if it came from another realm, piercing the veil of time and space to reach her.
Eira bolted upright, her heart pounding furiously, as if it might burst from her chest. She scanned the room, but it was empty, save for the flickering candle casting long shadows on the floor, swaying gently in the breeze, like lurking phantoms that sent chills down her spine.
"Who is there? Who is speaking?" Eira whispered, her voice trembling. She did not know if it was her imagination or if someone was truly addressing her.
But the room was silent, save for the sound of the wind brushing against the window frame and her own ragged breathing. Everything appeared calm, as if nothing had happened.
"Was it just my imagination?" Eira murmured to herself, filled with confusion and unease. She did not know if the pressure had simply induced a hallucination, or if some supernatural force was at work.
Eira lay back down, closing her eyes, trying to force herself to sleep, to escape the unsettling atmosphere. Yet, the voice continued to echo in her ears, refusing to be silenced, like a splinter in her mind. "Leila... my child... you are Leila..." It repeated the words over and over, as if trying to awaken the memories buried within her.
Eira opened her eyes again, knowing that the voice was real, not a figment of her imagination. But where was it coming from? What was it trying to tell her? Why did the name "Leila" feel so familiar, yet so foreign to her?
Eira got up, her bare feet touching the cold floor as she made her way to the corner of the room. There stood an ancient writing desk, a gift from her father, Baron Erikr, on her birthday. It was adorned with books and the various tools Eira used for writing and drawing, but at the moment, she had no interest in any of them.
Eira's gaze settled on a wooden box on the desk. It was a gift from her mother, Lady Evelyn, containing Eira's childhood toys and clothing, precious mementos of her bygone days. Eira had cherished these items, unable to part with them, even as she had grown into adulthood.
Eira opened the box, the faint scent of wood and bygone times enveloping her, transporting her back to her carefree childhood. She retrieved a rag doll, her favorite plaything from those days, which had accompanied her through countless nights. The doll, crafted from the finest silk, wearing an elegant princess gown, golden hair, and blue eyes, was still in pristine condition, as if time had stood still.
Holding the doll, Eira fell deep into contemplation. Suddenly, she remembered something, and her head snapped up, her gaze fixed on the wall. That particular wall appeared unremarkable, no different from the others in the room. Yet, in the depths of Eira's memory, there was a secret hidden behind it.
This room had once belonged to her grandmother, and after her passing, it had remained vacant until Eira was born, when it was renovated and became Eira's room. Eira had grown up in this space, intimately familiar with every detail.
Eira recalled that when she was very young, she had once asked her grandmother about a door in the room that could never be opened. That door was hidden in the wall by Eira's bed, concealed by the thick masonry, invisible from the outside.
At the time, her grandmother had simply smiled and not directly answered the question, instead gently stroking Eira's head and saying, "My child, you will understand these things when you are older."
Eira had gradually forgotten about the door, until now, when the mysterious voice and the strange power had brought it back to the forefront of her mind, along with her grandmother's enigmatic words and the look in her eyes as she neared the end of her life.
Eira set down the doll and approached the bed, running her hands along the wall. It was cold and unyielding, with no discernible cracks or irregularities, seemingly just an ordinary wall.
"Could it be... that I was mistaken?" Eira murmured, filled with doubt. She began to wonder if her memory had played tricks on her, and the door, as well as her grandmother's words, were just figments of her imagination.
"Child... you were not mistaken..." The voice spoke again, clearer and more urgent this time, as if whispering directly in Eira's ear. "The door... it is there... open it, and you will understand everything..." The voice carried a sense of guidance and encouragement, as if it were directing Eira towards an unknown destiny.
Eira's heart raced once more. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and pressed her palm firmly against the wall, focusing all her senses on the surface, its every texture, temperature, and energy flow. She did not know why she was doing this, but she had an intuition that finding that door would unlock the mysteries that had plagued her for so long.
Suddenly, Eira felt a warmth emanating from her palm, as if a force from the other side of the wall was conveying a message to her. The energy was comforting and familiar, like a call from the depths of her very soul.
Eira opened her eyes, her gaze resolute. She had a premonition that behind that door lay a great secret, a secret about her origins, a secret about her destiny.
"I must open that door and uncover the truth!"