In the next week, my time was spent primarily in the library, hours passing as I learned of this world and the way it was, and even then, I only knew so much.
One of the first things I was questioning was the existence of creation. Of course, in my world, there was God for some people, and for others, there was nothing or maybe even many gods. It was varied, and for this world, I found the same to be true, except for the most widespread belief.
Supposedly, this world was created by a spirit- a spirit with great power- and amidst the struggle of spirits in the spirit world and living in the world of the living, the two realms were separated, and “The Creator” went elsewhere, leaving behind demons, spirits, and creatures of all sorts.
It sounded fantasy. Made up. But if I truly thought about it, this world was different from my own, and because of that, perhaps the creators of my world and this world were not the same. Already, I was ruling out that I was in some sort of afterlife because what afterlife would depict books of creation so unlike everything else?
I, personally, had never been a true believer in all things religion, following on or the other. There was always the thought that a higher power watched over us all, having created the world as it wished, but never did I believe any of the numerous religions were “the right one.” Something maybe out there, but I would never know for sure, and it truly never bothered me.
The names for this “Creator,” however, varied. Some just called him “The Creator” and others had actual names for him, depending on where in this world one was.
Apparently, the map of this world was much different from my own, ruling out any possibility of this being a “parallel universe.”
Also, magic was supposedly real, but I laughed that one off, mentally noting that I’d believe it only when I saw it, and as of barely over a week, I’d seen absolutely none of it.
And as of barely over a week, I felt like I’d hardly learned a thing. Nothing told me what I truly wanted to know.
Why was I here?
Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were all eaten in the dining room, and the first few days, I continued to endure the exasperating stares as I ate, as if I would suddenly burst into a puff of smoke and disappear. The King’s narrow, blue eyes squinted at me, as if he suspected I might run off if his eyes darted away, and the Queen’s brown were soft and relieved, watching with a pure fondness that soon became borderline creepy.
Eventually I had made eye contact with Wren that screamed my discomfort, and the next day, things were normal. The three of them conversed, all while I sat and listened, hearing things about nobility I knew nothing about. It was one way of learning things other than books, but how was I supposed to know about the world outside of Etaeris and my true reason for being here if that was all they spoke of?
I trusted them none, watching the corners and keeping an eye on Wren, but he seemed just as normal as anyone else, if not more normal. The others had an aura about them, something intimidating. It was authoritative, as if they were looking down on me- or maybe Wren. I felt cold around the King and the Queen each time they spoke so generally of their people but so in depth of upper class drama. God, it almost felt like high school again- a nightmare I was ready to keep away from.
Each day, Wren would follow around, irritatingly so. I could only have privacy inside of my room, but in the library, he didn’t bother me. In fact, he just sat and read as I did, and only when I would indirectly ask questions- pointing to the words- would he speak to me. It was almost as if he already knew I didn’t want to talk to him. Well, considering he knew I didn’t want him there, it was likely obvious enough to figure that part out.
Today was different.
I was reaching for a book on the third shelf- thin and pale yellow- and before I could pull it out, Wren spoke.
“Still no voice?” he asked. I spun to him and cocked my head with a subtle shake, looking up at him. His face was dead neutral, not a single spark of emotion to it- not even that subtle softness he usually had. I raised a brow.
“I wonder what possibly could be wrong,” he said. His words sounded stiff, suspicious, and I could feel my heart starting to pound, quicker with each pressuring second following his words. I felt like he wanted me to respond, but there was no way to, so I continued to look up at him, noticing that he had plenty more to say. His eyes went intense, his stare peculiar, and when he slowly lifted a hand, I jolted back.
“I can figure out why,” he said. I gulped, brows furrowing. I tried hard not to look nervous, but I could feel myself heating up, sweating. My hand was still reaching for the book, so I let it drop to my side, giving him my full attention, trying to force my face as neutral as his own. The effort wasn’t much- Jonathon helped me with that one.
“Well, I’d need to feel your throat, and-” I took a step back. “-I don’t mean anything harmful by it.” I drew my brows further, and when my guard started to multiply in defense, mentally aware he was testing me, he sighed. “Shall I rephrase that?”
I nodded.
“Magic,” he said. “I can figure it out by magic.” I continued to stare blankly at him, and at the thought of magic being a method of telling him the truth, I wanted to laugh. I’d yet to see any sort of “magic” and if my belief that it was all fiction was true, then he would find out nothing.
A small part of my stomach twisted at the idea of saying yes, however. I entered an entirely new world, so how was magic impossible? Isn’t travelling to a new world the same thing as magic?
There was no way that I could refuse. If I refused, he would only grow increasingly suspicious of me, and maybe he’d learn that I wasn’t who they believe I was. At least, I didn’t think I was who they believed I was because they weren’t my parents and this wasn’t my world. I was an imposter, wearing a princess’ skin, and if they knew that, there was no telling what they might do.
So, I nodded. His magic didn’t seem plausible, but the nervous pounding in my chest didn’t cease as his hands both lifted, calloused all over, and extended out to my neck.
When the roughness of his skin brushed against my neck, I winced from how cold it felt. His flesh was like ice, and I hoped it wasn’t because I was truly sweating like mad. That would have given everything away, and I couldn’t afford that. I couldn’t die before I knew the truth- if I was even alive in this world, anyways.
Suddenly, my neck started to tingle, a slight vibration around where his hands were placed, and my eyes went wide when the feeling of something pulsing at my flesh began, and I desired to recoil, but for some reason, I didn’t move until his hands lowered, nearly tripping as I staggered back.
The sensation that tickled at my fingers when I touched that book a week ago was nearly the same, just a bit off, and I could only stare, wide eyed, at Wren as he frowned at his hands, almost disappointed.
“You are lying,” he said. My entire body went cold, a wave of numbness washing over me, and I merely stared, holding my hands at my neck, trying to suppress the memories of slit throats and choking. Dead women. Murdered. No, think of it later. More important things right now.
I tilted my head, trying to play off my deception even a bit longer. He wasn’t buying it. His bronze skin darkened, contorted, with grim realization that I wasn’t who I said I was, and for a moment, I saw a sudden flash in his eyes, something almost animalistic, and in my mind, I ignored all logic and stuck to my instincts.
I ran.
My body wasn’t nearly as strong now as it was in my own world, but I still felt the urge to run- to escape consequence- and I did. For a while. He didn’t move when I sped past him, clutching the top of my skirt to hold it up as my legs freely darted out of the library. I thrusted the door open and let it slam open, ignoring the possibility of cracked glass, and sprinted as fast as I could make it, hair flying fast behind me like a whipping flag on a windy day.
I had only made it so far before I dared turn my head around, and when I did, I saw a sudden burst of brown skin and black hair matched with heterochromatic eyes before something slammed hard into me, flinging me through the air towards the ground. Crying out as I landed and once more as someone landed atop me, I didn’t even waste time to try and crawl away.
It was no use, something hard as rocks pressed into my legs, and I kept my eyes close, already feeling the presence of someone atop me, pinning me to the floor, and I tried hard not to imagine the presence of a face so close, grasping tightly at my throat.
Gulping, I forced my eyes open, only to see exactly what I expected. Wren had me pinned to the floor, his legs keeping mine from kicking and his arms grasped tight around my wrists. My face was a good foot and a half away from his, and there was still that suspicion- and deadly urge of protection- in his eyes.
“Who are you?!” he demanded. I could feel his arms vibrating in anger, and I flinched when he shouted, suddenly wondering why I found him to be the most tame of those around when he could so easily turn into such a beast.
I knew from that look in his eyes that he only tackled me to the ground to keep me from running- to get to the bottom of this mystery. I likely would do the same if I knew someone had the answers to all of my questions and was trying to run away from me.
“Eleanor!” I cried. He flinched at the sound of my voice, but his face didn’t move from its knit brows and contorted frown, a strange intensity in his eyes. “Not Varelas, either.”
“Maybe I should be more specific,” he spat. “What are you?”
I blinked at him. “What am I? A human, what else?!”
He laughed, a sound dark and deep in his throat, almost like dark humor. “Funny. Are you a witch? A blood witch? Come to take the body after its grown?”
“A blood witch?!” I effused. “Are you mad?! I don’t even know what that means! God, I didn’t ask to come wake up in someone else’s god damned bathtub!”
“God? What sort of religion has a single being labeled ‘God?’” he inquired. Wren shook his head. “Nevermind. What do you mean? I don’t understand why you’re here and in this body.”
“I don’t either!” I exclaimed. “One minute I’m hurling myself off a cliff, and after hearing the crack and break of my bones, I wake up in a bathtub!”
He stared at me for a moment, and I watched as the lines of his face smoothed over, starting to relax, and the tightness in his chiseled jaw loosened. He stared a second longer before pushing himself off of me, getting up to his feet, and I didn’t move at all, staring up at him as he straightened and stood.
Wren extended a hand without so much as another word, and I stared at it for a moment, debating whether that was a good idea or not after he nearly killed me by tackling me to the ground- something that would be sore by later. Eventually, I reached for it and grabbed it, letting the chill of it cool my bones with a disturbed shiver.
“I still do not understand,” he said, clearing his throat. I felt a rush of red come to my cheeks, suddenly embarrassed by how easily I went out, but I shook it away and sighed.
“I don’t either,” I muttered. “This body… it looks like me. Scarily, I see myself in the mirror. I was the same height, the same everything, but I know it’s not mine. There’s no arm scar and no mark at my hip. This isn’t my body, but it is.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” he questioned.
“You tell me!” I cried, throwing out my arms in surrender.
“Why lie about speaking, then?”
“I don’t trust anyone here. I don’t even know where here is, but it’s certainly not where I spent nineteen years of my life. Maybe that was a dream and this is reality, or maybe it’s not. Either way, I don’t trust the maids, the King or Queen, and I certainly don’t trust you.”
His eyes twitched, a small flicker of hurt, and his lips parted to say something, but he closed them and swallowed, considering a better response. “What do you think I’m going to do? Knowing the truth or not?”
“I don’t know- nothing good, I suppose,” I replied, frustrated. “You all call me ‘Your Highness’ and such, but I’m… that’s never been who I was. Not until now.”
“You’ve been asleep for nineteen years.”
“That’s the thing. I haven’t been. I lived an entire life for nineteen years, and after I die, I wake up here? How is that possible?”
Wren narrowed his eyes at the wall behind me, his lips pinched in consideration, and for a moment, I waited, and finally, he got a flicker of subtle understanding.
“It must have been that sorceress. The one that cursed you as a child,” he decided.
“Sorceress? Cursing? Wren, I hate to break it to you, but magic isn’t real,” I replied. His stare turned to me, as blank as ever, and for a moment, he looked at me as if to say “are you really that dumb?” And following that, I wondered, am I really that dumb?
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