Eira's eyelids fluttered open slowly, the darkness immediately pressing in around her like a heavy, suffocating cloak. For a long moment, she lay still, ears straining to catch the faintest sound, body alert despite the shadows.
The blackness was absolute. Not even the dim glow of moonlight or street lamps penetrated the space she found herself in. Outside, she sensed, the world must be bathed in daylight—the muffled chorus of distant city life was faint but unmistakable—but within this prison, it was as if night had fallen eternally.
She flexed her fingers, testing the limits of sensation.
Cold metal shackles bit into her wrists, tight and unyielding, binding her hands before her. The weight of the chains was real and cruel.
She shifted her head slightly and noticed a presence nearby—another captive.
In the utter darkness, she could just make out the trembling form of a girl huddled close, shoulders shaking with silent tension. Bound as tightly as Eira herself, the girl was clearly terrified, but unlike the sharp, raw panic Eira once knew, this fear was quieter, more resigned.
Eira's eyes adjusted to the pitch black as best they could, and she noted with some relief that all her clothes were intact. Her simple linen blouse, trousers, and shoes—all remained as she had worn them.
But as her hands moved to search for the small device she always carried—the emergency signal she could use to summon Emma in case of trouble—she froze when she finally checked
The device was gone.
A frustrated breath escaped her.
"Not again "
Stupid Eira, she thought with a wry bitterness. You have a system space for everything—the enchanted wardrobe of clothes, books, and your spell components—all stored safely and accessible. And yet you forgot to put this one lifeline inside your system's secure space.
She tried to picture the neat compartments of her magical storage space, now filled with a myriad of items. The device should have been there, tucked away in its special place where she could summon it in any moment's need.
But no.
She had made the critical mistake of keeping it on her person—and it had been taken.
Even if it hadn't been, the shackles binding her wrists would have made it impossible to activate.
Her lips pressed into a thin line, a mixture of frustration and self-reproach.
You're so clever, she thought dryly, and yet so careless.
********
The silence pressed on, thick and suffocating, until it was broken by voices—harsh, urgent, and distant but growing nearer.
Eira's ears strained to catch the words, spoken rapidly in French.
Two voices: one harsh and scolding, the other quivering and unsure.
She caught bits and pieces, the sound cutting through the stillness like cold blades.
"Pourquoi as-tu amené cette fille anglaise ici ?" the harsher voice demanded.
("Why did you bring that English girl here?")
"Je pensais que c'était elle," the other answered nervously.
("I thought it was her.")
As Eira listened closely to their loud conversation, she realized they were talking about her—
and about the girl kept here with her.
The cold voice snapped again, "Tu n'as même pas réussi à distinguer les couleurs, surtout pour quelqu'un d'aussi célèbre que Eira White. Tu ne vois pas qu'elle a les cheveux blancs ? La fille que tu as amenée a les cheveux bruns. Et pourquoi l'as-tu amenée ? Est-ce une moldue ?"
("You can't even tell colors apart, especially for someone as famous as Eira White. Don't you see she has white hair? The girl you brought has brown hair. And why did you bring her? Is she a Muggle?")
The trembling voice tried to explain, "Non… elle avait sa baguette et elle parlait avec ses parents, deux adultes, au sujet d'Eira White. J'ai pensé qu'elle était peut-être liée ou qu'elle était elle-même, alors je l'ai kidnappée."
("No… she had her wand and was talking with her parents, two adults, about Eira White. So I thought she might be related or was herself, so I kidnapped her.")
Eira's heart pounded fiercely as she realized they had kidnapped this poor girl, mistaking her for Eira. The abduction had clearly been planned with her as the true target.
A sharp slap echoed through the air—an unmistakable sound of punishment—and the harsher voice scolded, "Si ce n'était pas pour un autre groupe qui l'a trouvée et emmenée, nous serions morts par sa main si elle avait su que nous avions foiré la mission."
("If it weren't for another group who found her and took her, we would have been killed by her if she knew we messed up the mission.")
The trembling voice muttered, "Ça fait déjà deux jours qu'on l'a kidnappée…"
("It's already been two days since we kidnapped her…")
Eira's breath hitched in shock. Two days? She had been unconscious in this dark room for two full days.
Her thoughts spun. Emma, Fleur, her aunt—of course they were searching for her. They must have noticed her disappearance by now.
Worry tugged at her, but she clung to the certainty that help was on the way—and even if it wasn't, she would find a way to get out of here.
********
The conversation continued.
"Qu'est-ce qu'on fait de l'autre fille ?" the fearful voice asked.
("What should we do with the other girl?")
The cold voice responded, "Laisse-la pour l'instant, mais à la nuit, tue-la. Pas de témoins."
("Let her be for now, but at night, kill her. No witnesses.")
A shudder ran through Eira at those words. These bastards were going to kill the innocent girl chained with her here—just because they had mistaken her for Eira.
The trembling voice protested weakly, "Mais ces deux adultes… ils feront quelque chose."
("But those two adults… they will do something.")
"Trouve un moyen d'effacer leurs souvenirs, ou tue-les. Non, ne les tue pas, ce serait suspect s'ils étaient tués par des sorciers. Efface leurs souvenirs quand tu tueras cette fille," the cold voice said with cruel precision.
("Find a way to erase their memories, or kill them. No, don't kill them, it would be suspicious if they were killed by wizards. Erase their memories when you kill that girl.")
**********
Eira swallowed hard, the weight of their merciless plans sinking in. She couldn't bear the thought of another innocent life taken because of her. Her mother, Lolly—the weight of their deaths was already enough to crush her. She refused to let that burden grow with the loss of a young girl who had yet to experience life to its fullest.
Slowly, she turned her head toward the other captive, whose body was still trembling quietly beside her.
The girl's breaths were shallow, her whole form tense but noticeably less panicked than Eira might have expected.
Eira whispered softly in English, hoping to soothe the frightened girl.
"Hey," she said gently. "Are you there? Are you okay? You're not hurt, are you?"
The girl flinched slightly, then, after a pause, a faint voice answered in shaky English.
"Y-yes… I'm okay… but I'm scared."
Eira's heart softened.
She was no stranger to fear—years of battles, betrayals, and imprisonment had tempered her.
Yet, worry still gripped her.
Not for herself.
For those she loved, and for this frightened girl beside her.
"We'll get through this," she promised quietly. "Together. Don't worry—I'll get you out of here."
********
Darkness carried its own breed of fear and silence, yet even in captivity, a stubborn flame flickered defiantly within Eira.