The Cave's Shelter.
Her eyes shot open, and she gasped, the biting cold of the vision still clinging to her skin. She blinked rapidly, her senses returning. She groaned softly, her body aching from the journey and her injuries. Blinking, she took in her surroundings.
The jungle was gone, replaced by an open expanse. She lay on the ground, her side aching where the snow was clinging to her.
To her left was the dense wall of the jungle, its dark canopy stretching far into the distance. To her right, a mountain loomed—not towering, but imposing enough to catch her attention. Its rocky surface was dusted with snow, and the crisp air hinted at higher altitudes.
Elara pushed herself up, her body protesting with every movement. She noticed that she had been positioned with her back to the jungle, facing the mountain.
It was as if the jungle itself was telling her to leave, to forget about it and move forward.
Her mind flashed to the man she had seen—disheveled, silver-haired, with brilliant turquoise eyes that mirrored her own. Was he real? Or just another fragment of her fevered dreams?
The memory of the gray wolf surfaced, its protective presence etched into her mind. Would it spare her again if she dared to return?
The thought sent a chill down her spine. Shaking her head, she turned her gaze back to the mountain.
Limping slightly, she began her slow trek toward it. The stab wound on her back ached with each step, the pain sharp and unrelenting. But more than the pain, the itching made her pause.
Elara frowned. Stab wound?
Her fingers brushed over the bandages, her mind racing. When had she been stabbed? She replayed the events in her head—the goons, the fight, the escape. Yet no memory of being stabbed came to her.
Pushing the thought aside, she pressed on. The mountain was her only option now.
.......
The climb was grueling, her body protesting with every step. The cold bit at her exposed skin, and her breaths came out in visible puffs. As she reached the base of the mountain, she spotted the dark opening of a cave.
Relief washed over her. She staggered toward it, the promise of shelter too tempting to ignore. The cave was shallow but dry, its walls smooth and cool to the touch. She sank to the ground, her strength finally giving out.
Elara pulled the cloak tighter around her and inspected her wound. She tugged her clothing aside, revealing hastily tied bandages made of a rough, fur-like material. Her fingers brushed the edges of the wound, and she hissed at the sharp sting.
The bandages were tight and functional, though the material was unlike anything she had seen. "Did he…?"
The man from the jungle flashed in her mind again, his hands methodically working to bind her wounds.
Shaking the thought away, she focused on nursing herself. She used the small knife she took from Riven to cut away the makeshift bindings, wincing as she exposed the wound to the cool air. Blood oozed sluggishly, the edges of the gash an angry red.
Elara's mind returned to the stab wound. Who had done this? And why couldn't she remember?
As she worked, the vision of the girl with silver hair crept back into her thoughts. The memories felt like hers but weren't. They were too vivid, too real. That's when she realised something, her hair. The hairs that once were icy black had turned silver, they had bluish shine to them with some strands that were totally blue.
She had always loved her black hair, but now this world had even taken those from her. It's not like these silver hairs were not pretty; they were ethereal. Could it have something to do with the girl in her dreams? She didn't entirely remember those dreams, they were a string of blurred images, but the girl in those dream was still vivid in her mind.
Her hands trembled as she tied fresh strips of cloth over the wound. The hallucinations, the jungle, the strange man, and now the mountain—nothing made sense. Even the clothes she was wearing were not hers. She had never worn an attire like this before. Cloak, fancy uniform, a belt to hang a sword that was no longer there, this was nothing she wore before infiltrating the wharehouse.
Elara leaned her head back against the cave wall, exhaustion pulling at her. "Kael… Riven…" she murmured. "What am I missing?"
The cold clung to her, sharp and unrelenting, as Elara closed her eyes. Her body was weary, but her mind refused to settle, memories slipping in and out of focus like shadows in the dark.
She was 14, seated on the living room couch with her legs tucked under her. The afternoon light spilled through the large windows, and her summer vacation homework—mostly untouched—lay scattered on the coffee table. She had been distracted for hours, her mind wandering to the unfamiliar face she'd seen earlier in the morning.
Kael had returned from an all nighter, working on a difficult case, his presence filling the house with its usual mix of energy and authority. Her brother, ten years older, always seemed larger than life—commanding, confident, and protective. But this time, he wasn't alone.
"Riven, come on," Kael called from the front door, pulling off his jacket and tossing it onto a chair.
A second figure followed him in—a tall, lean young man with gray hair and sharp features. He moved quietly, his presence almost ghostlike in its calmness, and his unusual silvery violet eyes surveyed the room with a detached curiosity.
Elara froze, her gaze fixed on Riven from her spot on the couch. The resemblance between them was uncanny, their facial features almost identical despite his disheveled appearance, likely the result of an all-nighter spent on duty with her brother working on a case. Though his gray hair and silvery-violet eyes starkly contrasted her icy black locks and turquoise gaze, the similarities in their faces left her unsettled.
Kael's voice broke the silence. "El, meet Riven Caeric. He's working with me now."
"Working with you?" she repeated, her gaze darting between them.
Kael grinned. "Yeah, he's a sharp one. Been with me for a few months now."
Riven gave her a slight nod, his expression unreadable.
Elara pushed herself to her feet, her curiosity outweighing her unease. "Hi," she said, trying to keep her tone light. "I'm Elara."
"Riven," he replied curtly.
"Oh, don't mind him. He's not big on introductions" Kael broke the tension with a laugh.
Elara wanted to look away from Riven, she couldn't place it, but something about him felt… off. He wasn't unkind, exactly, but there was a distance to him—a wall she couldn't see through.
Over the next few hours, she tried to piece together the enigma that was Riven, he was going to stay the night.
He was friendly with Kael, but whenever he looked at her, his expression shifted. The faintest flicker of something—animosity, hesitation, or maybe even guilt—would cross his face before he returned to his stoic mask.
Later that evening, she found him alone in the backyard, sitting on the edge of the patio with a notebook in his hands. The night was cool, the sound of distant traffic humming in the background.
Elara hesitated before stepping outside. She had questions—too many to ignore.
"Hey," she began, her voice tentative.
Riven glanced up, his silver eyes shimmering in the moonlight. "What is it?"
She shifted uncomfortably. "I just… I couldn't help noticing. You look like…" She trailed off, unsure how to finish the thought.
His gaze sharpened. "Like what?"
"Like me," she said finally. "Your face, I mean. It's weird."
Riven's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes. "It's a coincidence."
"Is it?" she pressed, stepping closer. "Because Kael doesn't look like me, not the way you do."
For a moment, silence hung between them. Then, Riven stood, his movements precise and deliberate. "Don't read into things you don't understand," he said coldly.
The words stung, but Elara refused to back down. "Why are you so tense around me? Did I do something to you?"
Riven's jaw tightened. He looked away, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "It's not about you."
"Then what is it?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he turned and walked back into the house, leaving her alone under the stars.
The memory shifted, the edges blurring and fading until it dissolved entirely.
Elara's eyes fluttered open, the chill of the cave pressing against her skin. Her body was stiff and aching, but the vision lingered in her mind, vivid and unshakable. She had no strength nor time to think about anything anymore, her body was too weak to process anything as it went back to a deep dreamless slumber.