The smell of cleaning chemicals lingered in the air, strong and familiar, settling in the back of her throat. Kaila could hear the faint and distant echoes of shouting voices, the sound of hurried footsteps. She thought she hard one of those voices call her name but it was as if she imagined it. For a brief moment, the freezing cold of the tile cut through the heat that had been clinging to her all day. For that moment, it was almost relieving.
Kaila tried to move, but her limbs felt heavy ad if they were filled with sand. The pain in her chest had been there all day and she struggled under the pressure of it. She could feel her thoughts moving slower and knew she needed to get up. There was still work to be done and she was sure lady Serafena would chastise her later for the laundry basket of clean clothes that were now sullied as they lay on the floor.
The pressure in her chest increased and she struggled to breathe. Her lungs felt like stone, hard and unmoving. She tried to move again, putting more effort into it this time, but her body didn't respond. The slippers of a maid crossed her blurring vision and her body was shaken but she could not respond.
Kaila knew then, she was dying. A tear slipped from her eye and the cold beneath her began to fade, the voices fading with it.
—
Warmth came back slowly, settling over her skin in a way that felt even and unfamiliar. Tingles ran up her arms and legs before settling in her back, then down to her fingertips. Kaila stayed still at first, letting herself sit in it, because something already felt off. Her body didn't carry the usual weight or soreness she had become accustomed to. In fact, it felt lighter than it should have. Kaila wiggled her fingers as the last of the tingles disappeared.
When her fingers moved, they did so easily, without the hesitation she expected. The lack of effort made her pause. She took a breath, and it filled her chest, smooth and clean and unburdened. The cough she expected, as it usually did, never came.
Her eyes snapped open.
Light spread across her vision, soft and golden, and it took a moment for her surroundings to settle into focus. Kaila blinked rapidly. The ceiling above her stretched impossibly high, painted with sweeping patterns of gold and muted jewel tones that curled across carved beams like living vines.
She pushed herself upright, and it surprised her that the movement was easy too, lacking the familiar strain and ache in her muscles. Her body responded too readily, and the lack of resistance left her sitting there a second longer than necessary.
When she finally looked down at her hands, she knew immediately that something was wrong. The color was too even, the skin too smooth, catching the morning light in a way that didn't feel natural. She pinched the flesh between her forefinger and thumb. It felt real, but not like hers. A gasp escaped her lips.
She froze.
Even her voice sounded different—softer, clearer, carrying a musical quality she'd never possessed. Her heartbeat quickened as she rose from the bed, bracing out of habit.
Nothing happened.
No dizziness, no black spots creeping across her vision and she didn't have to grip the bedpost for balance. She simply…stood, the truth in that unsettling her more than anything else. She lifted her gaze and finally observed her surroundings.
The room was breathtaking.
A massive four-poster bed draped in ivory silk dominated the chamber, its carved frame traced with delicate gold vines that climbed toward a canopy embroidered with tiny flowers. Cream-colored stone walls rose toward a vaulted ceiling, every arch etched with intricate filigree that shimmered in the morning light. The room was unmistakably feminine, but not in the childish way, it was clear that it belonged to a young woman. A young refined woman who was obviously very wealthy.
Across the room stood a polished writing desk carved from dark wood. Neatly stacked books rested beside crystal ink bottles, folded parchment, and elegant quills arranged perfectly. A vase filled with pale pink blossoms perfumed the air without overwhelming it, while shelves lined with leather-bound volumes hinted that whoever lived here valued study as much as beauty. Everything was immaculate, not a single item out of place. It looked less like a bedroom and more like someone had carefully preserved a perfect moment in time.
Then something beyond the desk caught her attention. A window.
It stretched nearly from floor to ceiling, framed by ivory curtains embroidered with climbing gold vines. Sunlight spilled through the glass, bathing the room in warm amber light. Nestled within the alcove was a cushioned window seat wide enough to stretch out upon, layered with plush pillows in muted plum and cream.
Drawn to it despite herself, Kaila crossed the room. Each step felt strange, too effortless. She rested a hand against the cool stone beside the window before looking outside and her breath caught for the second time.
Jagged black mountains rose against the horizon, their peaks disappearing into silver mist. Waterfalls poured from impossible heights into forests that shimmered emerald beneath the morning sun. Farther still, towering spires of dark stone pierced the sky, while thin streams of smoke drifted lazily from distant volcanic ridges.
Beautiful.
Alien.
She had never seen anything like it.
"I'm not home," she whispered.
The words barely left her lips before her attention caught on a tall mirror standing against the opposite wall. She approached it slowly, already uneasy, and when she finally stopped before it, the realization came without hesitation.
The girl staring back at her wasn't her.
The reflection moved with her, but it didn't feel right. Her hair fell in cascading waves of vibrant pink. Her skin was a rich, warm brown smooth abd absent of the weathered lines she had gained working in the sun. Delicate pointed ears peeked through her hair, and striking green eyes stared back with equal disbelief. She lifted a trembling hand and pressed it against the glass. It was cold and solid, and for a second she focused on that trying to ground herself in whatever reality she had wandered into. This must be the afterlife, she concluded while nodding to herself. But if that were truly so, why was there the nagging feeling that what she was experiencing was definitely, not a dream.
Footsteps suddenly sounded behind her.
She turned as the door opened and two women stepped inside. They moved with practiced grace, as though entering this room was part of their daily routine.
The moment they saw her standing there, they bowed.
"Princess Lailyra."
The name settled into the silence.
Kaila didn't answer.
Her gaze drifted back to the mirror, to the stranger with green eyes staring back at her.
The name didn't feel like hers. But somewhere, buried beneath the panic…it didn't feel entirely unfamiliar either..