Elurra woke suddenly. Sobs violently shook her thin frame as the awful massacre replayed in her mind’s eye. She sat up and shook her head, but the nightmare wouldn’t leave her. She kept picturing her father's headless body and her mother's lifeless eyes, caught in a continual loop. She bawled until her head hurt and her face was puffy, but no one heard her.
“It was simply a nightmare,” she told herself, hugging her knees to keep from shivering.
She wished someone would come to comfort her, but she was alone. She was always alone. Her expansive bed stretched out around her, making her feel small and insignificant. Elurra untangled herself from the ocean of silky sheets and crawled out of her warm cocoon.
This room is much too big for an eleven-year-old, she thought wearily.
The designers had clearly made it for show. Her bed was enormous. The stone floor leeched the heat out of the room. The wardrobe loomed like a beast sulking in the shadows. Statues stared out at her from every direction, and the painting on the ceiling watched her. She turned her back to the soulless space and stared longingly out of the only inviting feature of her room—the windows.
She lived in the castle’s tallest tower, presumably to keep her as far away from the rest of the world as possible. The hexagonal tower had a window upon each wall; a foot of glass separated her from the land spilling out below. The glass always insisted on being foggy, but she loved the tendrils of frost perpetually snaking across the panes. In Lur Alava, the frost was a constant companion. Outside, fields of white stared back at her, shimmering softly in the moonlight. Dark forests of evergreens, frozen ponds, and cozy villages surrounded her. She smiled. Looking out on the world was the only time it accepted her. She touched the glass, and her smile faltered. As she waited for the chill to numb her fingertips, the icy surface reminded her just how far removed she was from the land below.
She couldn't blame the world for rejecting her. Elurra thought she was an anomaly too. Despite her tender age, she could read better than most adults and speak just as well. Her governess told her she was gifted and didn’t develop like other children. But in Elurra’s case, the gifts were also a curse. Those who weren’t alarmed by her accelerated development eventually avoided her because of her other abilities.
She glared at her reflection in the glass. A ghost-like image of a small girl with piercing blue eyes and long blonde hair stared back at her. Her hair color alone was enough to earn a few strange glances. Blonde was rare in Incari. The only other person Elurra had ever seen with it was her mother, who had arrived from the Cӧratic Islands when she was a girl, bringing rumors of Demons with her.
“Princess?” someone called, snapping Elurra back to reality, “Princess, I know it's late but—”
The young woman emerging from the trap door jumped when she saw Elurra. “What are you doing up at this hour? I thought I would have to drag you out of bed.”
“Is it any wonder that I am awake? The moons tease me with nightmares. They lure me out of bed when they know the sun cannot stop them. What cruel beings the moons are,” Elurra said wistfully.
The servant looked at her with a dumbfounded expression, and Elurra bit her lip when she realized she must have said something strange again.
I bet she thinks I am insane. There will be rumors that I talk to the moons for months to come.
Aloud, she asked, “Why did you come? Are my parents alright?”
The other girl flinched slightly under Elurra’s unwavering gaze.
“They're fine, mi’lady, but they wish to see you.” Her tone was wary, her posture stiff, and her shoulders tense. She was deliberately avoiding eye contact. Elurra felt bad for her.
“Thank you. Tell them I will be there shortly,” she replied, waving her hand to dismiss the girl.
The servant nodded and disappeared; the trap door shut behind her with a dull thud. Elurra waited for her footsteps to fade away before she followed her down the hidden staircase. She could have forced the servant to escort her, but she was used to eschewing the rude stares and aversion of others. Elurra didn't see a point in making everyone uncomfortable. She didn't like seeing herself either. Her piercing gaze seemed to look straight into the soul. In fact, she could almost do just that. With a glance, she could often tell what people were feeling, or in some cases, what they were thinking. It was as natural as breathing. Most of the time, she saw fear. Fear of her.
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Looking in a mirror was terrible. She could see the loneliness from her childhood, time spent by herself or in the library. She could see her hunger for acceptance. Most of all, though, she could see a deep-seated doubt that she would never be able to escape herself, and she would be left alone with her thoughts forever. Elurra navigated the labyrinth of twisting hallways until she finally reached her parents' room. She rapped on the door, birthing echoes that bounced off the stone walls and down the empty corridor.
“Direi? Is that you?” her mother called from inside.
The familiar endearment in her voice immediately relieved Elurra. The nightmare still lingered in the back of her mind, threatening dark images if she dwelt on it too long.
“Yes Mother.”
A moment later, the door swung open and light poured out, casting a warm glow into the hallway. Elurra tiptoed into the grand room, feeling out of place among the splendor of her parent's bedchamber. Her mother smiled and wrapped her in an affectionate embrace. Elurra closed her eyes and deeply inhaled her mother’s sweet perfume.
“We are sorry for calling you at such a late hour, but something important has come up. We must leave immediately for Sheni. As you know, we have been experiencing numerous earthquakes along our western borders. The earthquakes in Sheni have caused numerous casualties. Naturally, that alone would not have warranted our visit, but the country is now in chaos because there was an uprising, and their king has been killed. The queen has requested we help stabilize the situation and bear witness to their son being accepted as the new king.”
Elurra nodded sullenly, having divined as much the moment the doors opened. Both her parents were dressed in traveling clothes, and her father's manservant was packing a suitcase on the bed, filling it with a few weeks of clothing and necessities. Most of the clothes were black in anticipation of the mournful community. A painful knot formed in Elurra’s stomach. Despite her attempts to keep her composure, silent tears slipped down her face, and her bottom lip quivered. Her father noticed immediately.
“What is the matter?” he asked in surprise, dropping to his knees.
Normal children cried when their parents went away, but Elurra never had.
“Please do not leave me here alone,” she whimpered. Another tear rolled down her cheek. Her mother frowned and attempted to soothe her daughter.
“We will only be gone for a little while. There is no reason to get upset.”
Her parents exchanged perplexed looks. Elurra grew frustrated when she realized her words were not adequately conveying her concerns.
“You do not understand! You are not coming back this time. You are going to your graves!” She slammed her small fists into the silky covers.
Her parents jumped at her sudden outburst, their faces swirling in confusion. The king hugged Elurra and stroked her golden hair.
“Why would you say such a strange thing? We would never abandon you, and we certainly are not going to die.”
Her nightmare replayed in her mind, and grief overwhelmed her.
“That red-haired woman will kill you if you go! I saw it in my dream. Please stay!” She tried to give them more details, but the rest of her words dissolved into gibberish as she wept. Her mother stroked her hair and started to sing softly, her silky voice filling the room. Despite Elurra’s anguish, the lullaby soothed her. It was from her mother’s homeland, so no one here knew the words but her.
“It will all be alright. You had a bad dream about someone killing us?” the queen asked gently.
Rivers streamed down Elurra's face as she sniffled and nodded her head. Her mother frowned for a moment and looked over at her husband. They didn’t say anything, but Elurra could tell they were troubled by her strange reaction to their trip. After a moment of debate, her mother stood, walked over to her dresser, rifled around in the top drawer for a moment, and paused as a click revealed a secret compartment. She retrieved something and returned with a delicate bracelet she slipped onto Elurra’s wrist. The polished white metal gleamed in the lamplight. A grape-sized snowflake charm dangled from one of the links.
“As long as you wear this, you will be safe,” the queen promised.
Before Elurra had a chance to insist her mother should wear it instead, a loud knock split through the room, and the door opened.
“Your Majesty, your carriage is ready for your departure,” the servant announced.
A horde of hired hands swarmed into the room, lifting various suitcases and hauling them away.
“Very well. We will be down in a moment,” the king answered.
The servant stepped outside, giving the king and queen privacy to say their parting words.
“If you miss us, sing our song, alright?” the queen told Elurra, kissing her on the forehead. Her father lifted her off the ground and hugged her tightly.
“Goodbye, dearest. Do not fret so much. We will be back before you know it!”
With that, they disappeared through the door, leaving the distraught little girl alone. She ran to the door and watched as they hurried down the hallway. Her intuition told her she would never hear her parents’ voices again.