I looked around in distress__everywhere was loud with screams and yells, people running wildly, confusion and tension thick in the air. Cold sweat slowly rolled down my face. It was as though the world was spinning around me, my legs glued to the ground.
The last time I felt like this was when I lost my dear mother.
Just then, I heard a familiar voice__a voice I hadn't even realized I'd been longing to hear. It was my maid, Victoria. The moment her words reached me, something in my chest eased. It was like the world finally stopped spinning, if only for a second.
"Princess Elowen!" she called, rushing from behind.
"Victoria!" I turned sharply, panic laced in my voice.
"Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you," she said, breathlessly.
"What? W… What's happening?" I asked, panic rising even more.
"What is happening?" Victoria repeated, her brows knitting together. Then seeing my trembling hand, she walked close and held it.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her eyes darting across my face in worry.
"You're sweating," she added softly, using the edge of her dress to dab the sweat from my forehead.
"Come, let me take you somewhere quiet."
Her voice was calm, and steady as She gently took my hand and led the way.
Victoria had been my personal maid since I was little. We grew up together, though she's a few years older, and she knows me better than anyone else. She could tell when I was slipping into one of my fits__ those strange moments when the world blurs and my chest tightens for no clear reason.
But… why was she asking what happened? It was obvious the whole place was in chaos... or… was it?
As she guided me through the crowd, I looked around__and froze. Nothing was happening.
The noise and screams I thought I'd heard were actually music and chants of celebration.
The people I thought were running in fear were simply dancing joyfully to the rhythm.
The noise I'd mistaken for terror was the sound of celebration.
Gradually, my heartbeat slowed. My breath steadied. And I realized__ nothing terrible was happening at all.
As we reached a quiet corner, Victoria turned to me, her face filled with worry.
"Wait here. I'll fetch your tonic," she said quickly, already turning to leave.
I caught her hand before she could go. "Have you seen Father Martins?" I asked, my eyes scanning the crowd behind her.
"I saw him in the ceremonial hall a while ago," she replied, then placed her hand gently over mine. "The court physician said you shouldn't be wandering about when your nerves are unsettled. Please, just stay here. I'll be back soon."
"But I'm fine now, I just—" Before I could finish, she was already hurrying away, her figure swallowed by the stream of guests.
I exhaled deeply, watching her disappear into the crowd. Of course, Victoria would never stop worrying over me__ even the smallest tremor in my breath was enough to set her heart racing.
Now, my tension had eased, the rush of panic fading into a dull calm. I had already forgotten the instructions my father had given me. My gaze wandered to the courtyard, where music and laughter filled the air. The people danced, their instruments echoing against the stone walls.
Watching them made me realize something painful__that perhaps most of them were here not for me, but for the Feast of Dawn.
Maybe it was just my insecure mind whispering again.
I remembered the countless occasions I had been taken to__ banquets, dedications, parade. All for reasons I was never told. "Your presence is needed, Princess," they would say, and I would go, smiling and bowing where I was told.
But that phrase had made me feel less like a person and more like an ornament—something to be displayed, not someone to be known.
That's exactly how I felt now, watching the crowd. It was about what I possessed, not who I was.
Then, admist the stream of people, I saw her.
A woman stood among the dancers__draped in a deep green velvet gown, embroidered with golden vines that that stood out. Her posture was regal, her presence commanding even from afar, I couldn't see her face as she stood turned away, the crowd moving like waves around her, yet something about the tilt of her head, the grace in her shoulders__it all struck a chord too familiar to ignore.
And then I noticed the crown__ delicate, jeweled, and heartbreakingly familiar.
I froze, my breath caught in my throat. Slowly, she turned, and our eyes met for the briefest moment.
It was her.
It was my mother.
"Mother!" I cried out, voice trembling. "Mother!"
Tears blurred my sight as I pushed through the crowd, my heartbeat beating louder than the music. She didn't stop. Didn't turn. She just kept walking, calm and distant, as if my voice never reached her.
"Mother, please!" I called again, this time louder and desperate.
But she moved ahead, quietly gliding through the dancers.
Then, suddenly, I froze. No. It couldn't be her. My mother was gone__ long gone. The truth struck like cold water, but my feet wouldn't listen. Whoever this woman was, she looked too much like her, the resemblance was uncanny, I had to know.
So I followed.
I don't remember when the laughter faded, or when the warm touch of the evening sunset disappeared. I just remember her figure, that faint outline I couldn't take my eyes off.
And then… the air changed.
The music was gone. So were the voices. Only silence. I blinked and looked around, realizing with a chill that I no longer knew where I was.
The cobblestones were gone — dirt now crunched beneath my shoes. The air was damp, cold, and heavy. Faint echoes dripped from unseen walls.
This wasn't the castle, I didn't remember leaving the castle.
And yet, here I was...
A cave.
The darkness was so thick I could barely see, but ahead, her figure glowed faintly, half swallowed by the shadows. She didn't speak. She didn't look back.
And still, I followed her hesitant but drawn.
"Mother?" I called again, this time my voice barely above a whisper.
Suddenly, a loud noise echoed from somewhere outside the cave—distant screams.
My heart skipped. For a moment, I doubted my own hearing, I'd mistaken the festival noise once before.
Turning toward the sound, I closed my eyes, straining to listen. The echo faded, replaced by an uneasy silence. My breath trembled.
But then__her voice came from behind me.
"Elowen," she called softly.
I froze.
That voice… that gentle, soothing tone__it was hers.
My first instinct was to run to her__ to throw myself into her arms like I used to as a child, not minding if she is only just a look alike, but something deep within me shifted. A strange, sharp warning crawled up my spine. My body stiffened. My feet refused to move.
It wasn't fear. It was instinct.an instinct I didn't understand taking over.
Something was wrong.
"Elowen," she called again, her tone tender, coaxing. "Look at me."
My throat tightened. The air felt colder now, thicker.
I wanted to obey, to turn around, to see her, but every fiber of my being screamed don't.
"I… I can't," I whispered, voice barely holding steady.
Silence took over for a moment,
Then came the click__a sharp snap of fingers.
One by one, torches mounted along the walls flared to life, their flames roaring.
The cave burst into golden light.
Now I could see clearly. It truly was a cave, damp, ancient, and heavy with the scent of smoke and earth. Strange objects lay scattered and hung about, cracked masks made of bone, rusted blades, clay jars filled with herbs and dried roots, old talismans etched with unreadable runes, and glass bottles containing things that looked far too alive to be still.
A chill crept up my spine.
What is this place? I wonder ed.
"You can see me now, Elowen," she said softly. "Please… turn around."
I glanced down and caught her reflection in a pool of water near my feet.
Her arms were stretched out for a hug. It was my mother—I knew it. I felt it.
I began to turn…
Then a single thought struck me like lightning.
'Nharoth.'
As the name surfaced in my thoughts, I shut my eyes immediately.
"I know who you are," I said quietly, voice trembling. "And you are not my mother."
Clasping my hands together, I began to mutter under my breath,
"In nomine veritatis, manifestare...
In nomine veritatis, manifestare..."
I had never truly believed in the supernatural things I'd been taught all my life—but if the woman behind me was what I thought she was, then I had no choice but to cling to those teachings now.
I continued to whisper the words, each repetition tightening the air around me.
"I am your mother, Elowen," she said, her voice cracking with desperate emotion. "Elowen, look at me..."
"You are not my mother!" I screamed, voice breaking. "Manifestare!"
I scooped a handful of muddy water from the ground and flung it toward her.
The moment it touched her skin, I squeezed my eyes shut.
A sickening sound followed, a mix of bones cracking and flesh tearing, echoing through the still air.