Chapter Seven: Between

Elora hesitated before she walked out of her room. Her right hand gripped her left as tightly as she could, so perhaps she could keep herself steady, she could keep herself there. She counted her steps as she braved the doorway. One…two…..three….she looked around at the hallway and gave a sigh of relief. She stayed. 

“Your highness.” a voice came beside her. She turned with a gasp before she fully realized who it was. Lyris, a daughter in the Veythys family, weaved her hand into hers and suddenly, the world was more stable. Elora took a breath for what felt like the first time that day. “Are you ready to meet your sister?” 

Elora had almost denied the invite from her twin, but Lyris had encouraged her. Elmara and she would frequently have embroidery dates before she had left for Veeque, and though she had little interest after she came back, Lyris expressed how important it was to participate in as much of the mundane as possible. 

Lyris started to guide her down the hall by their grasp and Elora followed. As much as she was stable, there were moments down the hall where her ears would ring and everything else became muted. Lyris would grip her hand more tightly as these occurred, never once did she slip when Lyris held onto her. 

As they approached Elmara’s chambers, Lyris knocked with her free hand and after a moment Elmara’s servant opened the door. Lyris guided her through the doorframe, but Elora still counted. One…two…three…

“Sister, I am so pleased to have you join me. Please, come sit.” Elmara stated. She sat on a couch in her outer chamber, her dark dress displayed across the whole of it, as she motioned to the chair facing her for Elora. There were a few servants doing tasks around the room, and though it looked like they all were trying hard not to look at Elora, she could feel the curiosity looming from them. 

Lyris held her hand until she had sat down, and then, once it was unacceptable to continue, unclasped her fingers one by one from Elora. Her hand chilled without the touch of her handmaiden, and it rose up her arm and into her chest. Elora shivered and closed her eyes, breathing deeply as she did. ‘Stay here’ she told herself and slowly opened her eyes to see Elmara looking at her with concern. 

“What are we working on today?” Elora asked her and saw the relief in her sister’s eyes. She was handed a yellow cloth with the outline of a vine with tiny purple flowers. 

“I am hoping to have this dress made before the Treahonghara caravan arrives.” Elmara said with a sly smile. Elora’s brows met. The name sounded familiar. “Father is hoping to discuss the possibility of an alliance even though…well…” 

Elora was quiet for a moment as she tried to remember where she heard that name. Her mind was cloudy, like she had to search every corner for any memory before Veeque. After what seemed like forever she realized the name. Treahonghara was the country that had asked for an alliance with her father in the form of marriage. At that time, High King Malrik offered her, but that was before Veeque showed interest in her. Elora looked down at the yellow dress with the beautiful vinework and realized her sister was now hoping to take her place. 

“You would make a beautiful bride.” Elora told her with a genuine smile. 

Elmara gleamed. “The thought of leaving, going to a far off place. Well, it’s terrifying, but thrilling I must say.” She seemed almost embarrassed, but for a genuine moment Elora felt joy again. But almost as quick as it was, it slipped and her reality shook. She looked back down at her assigned work and tried to focus on it. 

Elmara’s outer chamber overlooked one of the inner courtyards, where pale sunlight spilled across climbing ivy and white stone. The windows were cracked open just enough to let in the scent of rain drifting in from somewhere distant. Inside, the room remained still except for the occasional pull of thread through fabric. 

Elmara sat perfectly straight in her chair, a length of royal blue fabric draped across her lap. Tiny silver stitches formed the beginning of a crescent-shaped pattern near the hem. Predictable, precise, controlled. 

Elora stared at her yellow cloth for so long that the needle in her fingers had stopped moving entirely. Elmara noticed, of course she did. “You’ve placed that stitch three times now.” Elmara said without looking up. 

Elora blinked. “Have I?” 

“Yes.” A paused stretched between them while Elmara guided another neat silver thread through fabric. “You removed it twice,” She added. “Now you’re pretending to consider it artistically.” 

A faint smile tugged at Elora’s mouth. “Perhaps I am considering it artistically.” 

“You’re not.” Elmara told her flatly. 

Elora let out the softest breath of laughter, though it faded quickly. Outside, somewhere deep within the castle, a bell rang. Elora froze. Not visibly at first. Just enough that the thread slipped from her fingers. 

Elmara glanced up. “Elora?” 

“I’m fine.” Elora told her without looking at her. 

“You said that before I’ve asked anything.” Elmara grumbled. She watched her bend to retrieve the thread spool from the floor, though her movements were slower than they should have been. Careful, like she no longer trusted the distance between herself and the ground. She watched her for another moment before she spoke again. “You’ve been strange since returning.” The words were matter-of-fact, not intending to be cruel. 

Elora resumed stitching. “Thank you.” 

“That was not a compliment.” Elmara shook her head confused. 

“I know.” Elora more hissed than anything. 

After a big sigh from both of them, the silence settled again. Elmara worked steadily, her hands confident and exact. Elora envied that suddenly, the certainty of knowing where your fingers would land. 

“You keep looking toward the door.” Elmara said quietly. 

Elora’s needle stopped again. “I hadn’t realized I was.” 

“It’s happened six times.” Elmara tilted her head slightly, studying her now. “You look…” she said. “Like someone is calling for you.” 

For a moment, Elora could not answer, because something was. Not a voice exactly, more like a pull. A pressure behind her ribs. A terrible sense that if she turned quickly enough, she might catch sight of someplace else before it vanished. “I’m only tired.” Elora said finally. 

Elmara’s expression made it clear she did not believe her. “You never used to drift like this.” 

The word landed harder than it should have. Drift. Elora pressed the needle too quickly through the cloth and hissed softly as it pierced the side of her finger. A bead of blood surfaced. 

Elmara immediately reached for the cloth in irritation. “Elora.” 

“It’s nothing.” 

“You’re staining it.” Elmara whined. 

Elora looked at her twin in irritation herself. “That seems to concern you more than my injury.” 

“It took me three weeks to dye this fabric correctly.” Elmara begged. 

Despite herself, Elora laughed. A real one this time, brief and startled. Elmara relaxed slightly at the sound. There it is, her expression seemed to say. You’re still in there somewhere. But then Elora’s laughter faded. Her gaze shifted again. Past Elmara, toward the doorway. The room suddenly felt…farther away. The sunlight dimmed strangely. The air thickened. 

Elmara’s voice became muffled, as though heard through water. “Elora?” 

The walls flickered. Just once. Stone became something darker. Violet light threading through impossible cracks. Elora’s breath caught. And then…

“Your highness.” Lyris’ hand was firm on her shoulder. The light returned in mere seconds and Elora found herself gasping for breath. “I think it might be wise for you to lay down for a while.” 

“Y-yes…that does seem wise.” Elora said, dropping the cloth and needle and grasping onto the armrests of her chair as if to keep herself secure. Elmara sat, dumfounded by the quick turn of events. She sat speechless as Lyris lifted her sister up like she was fragile and started to lead her out of the chamber. She stopped for a moment and turned back to her sister. “Thank you for the-” and then a bell rang. 

Reality dropped away. She felt light, like everything heavy was gone. All sound was gone. Everything was wrong. 

Elora looked around at the chamber to realize it wasn’t the chamber anymore. It had the same outline, but everyone waved like it was all underwater. And the more it waved, the darker it became. Before she could collect her thoughts the dark water swept away the room, and while it was entirely dark, it wasn’t. The violet cracks appeared in between the darkness. And as the cracks increased objects in the distance appeared. Distant towers looked like they were suspended upside down. 

The silence tore open with whispers of voices rang around her. Whispers that Elora could almost remember. And then a figure, dark at first, only a silhouette in the distance. Then frighteningly fast it got closer. Elora stood there, afraid to look away, but the closer it got the more she realized she was looking at herself. 

She fell to her knees, dizzy, out of breath. Her fingers were cold and numb, she was sick as she looked at the red carpet of Elmara’s room. 

“Elora?” Elmara asked, now standing, the cloth on the floor forgotten. 

Lyris grabbed hold of her hand and elbow and gave her a sturdy counterbalance to stand up. She stood, still facing the door as she tried to compose herself. 

“H-how long was I gone?” Elora whispered. 

“Gone?” Elmara asked. “Elora, you never left.”