The Witch's Cursed Daughter

107. Awaken

Rays of indigo-flavoured light licked at Evianna's eyelashes as they fluttered open, revealing a familiar yet long-forgotten vision. Purples, silvers, and gold danced together in a flower-scented room, and the warmth of thick blankets assured her that she was safe. The ache she had endured since locked in the tower at the Emperor's request had subsided; in its place was a constant unnamed sensation. Feeling fresh from her long sleep, she stretched out her fingers, a movement Evianna had been unable to accomplish for years; the action seemed fluid and simple. Fazed by the sudden unrestricted access to her body, she wiggled her toes, her stomach clenched in preparation for a wave of delayed pain, yet it never arrived.

The only sensation which laid its touch on Evianna was the warmth of the light streaming through the large doors to her left. Those window-doors of white wood and huge panes had comforted her on her first night in the unfamiliar palace after Julian had brought her to Kenellor. Anxious that she had sunken into a dream which would never be realised, Evianna opened her mouth to speak. Terrified of the repercussions if no words would leave her throat, she bit down on her lip, wishing the duvet would swallow her whole.

Softly she felt a kind presence clench around her hand as if to encourage her. She tried again, not knowing who the hand belonged to but unafraid of the recognisable touch.

"Ahh," the sound was melodic. Muffled by the sheets stuffed with feathers, Evianna rejoiced; the feeling inside her growing with each breath, "Ahh, ah, ahhh."

Laughter ignited in the room beyond her prison of bed sheets. Lifting them away from her face and raising to a sitting position, Evianna believed her eyes were lying to her. A tall man with reddish-brown hair, dark brown eyes, and a complexion decorated with freckles stood in basic attire, smiling so wide it seemed to split his face in two. Not trusting the sight before her eyes, Evianna blinked roughly, her head bobbing with the movement until blue and green specs flashed against Romile's white shirt. A tear-filled laugh exclaimed from her lips as she realised he was real. Romile folded his arms and cheekily shrugged as if it were natural to expect his presence. After some time of the pair staring at each other, running their eyes over a friend they hadn't seen for years, Romile snickered as if prompted by something. Looking at Evianna with expectant eyes, he tilted his head to the right twice, his enormous grin threatening to engulf his face.

Unsure of what he signalling, Evianna followed the direction of his nod. All the oxygen in her body exited as dark hair filled her sight. Illea was her first thought; fear screamed in her ears instinctively until she looked closer. Another gentle squeeze on Evianna's hand allowed her to inspect who she was facing. Julian. Julian. The boy she saved. The boy who saved her. The young man who rescued her from the clutches of a fate worse than her mother's. Having aged four years, his appearance had become more manly and defined; comfort rippled over Evianna as she lost herself in his silver eyes.

"Good morning, Evianna," Julian said in a rough voice.

"Goo," Evianna coughed her throat, unfamiliar with the sound of the words. "Good morning, Julian, Romile."

The young men beamed as she spoke their names. Julian offered Evianna a thin crystal glass filled with cool water, which she gratefully accepted.

"How did you sleep?"

"Well," Evianna replied, there was no interruption to her speech this time. "How long did I rest?"

"It has been three months since the rebellion against the crown," Julian replied, taking back the glass Evianna had swiftly gulped down.

"How much do you remember?" Romile interjected as he moved over to sit on the edge of the bed beside Julian, causing the crisp duvet to crumple as he landed.

Casting her mind back, Evianna focussed on recalling the events which occurred before she awoke, but a numbing weight lay across her brain as if blocking the area the memories lived. "Parts," Evianna finally answered, unable to deduce what had transpired. "There are a lot of incoherent scenes and voices," incapable of producing further information, Evianna paused to think. Noticing a voice missing, she asked, "Where is Voster?"

"He has left," Julian replied bluntly. Evianna could see in his dark expression that now was not the time to ask for further details, but her heart ached for him.

"Where is Prince Wen?"

"He has passed," Romile responded, his face hardly visible as he kept his eyes from meeting Evianna's.

Moments ticked by as the group settled into an uncomfortable silence. Suddenly, Julian burst from the quiet with a loud voice, "There is time for us to share our accounts of the last four years, and I look forward to our re-acquaintance, but first, we have something to discuss."

"Your Majesty," Romile began.

Her head snapping to Romile, Evianna repeated, "Majesty?"

"While the title has not been officially bestowed, I am the current emperor; my predecessor met an ironic and well-fitting demise," Julian smiled. This time it seemed different, ominous and evil, as if possessed by joy at the death of his father, an understandable yet unmoral celebration. "But I digress. Evianna, are you aware that you are a Witch?"

"No, I'm not," Evianna snapped quickly, offended by the word Witch, a term her mother had demonstrated through abuse. Taking a second to adjust her tone, Evianna continued firmly, "Voster tested my Magical Lineage when I arrived in the capital. He said it was impossible."

"He was wrong," Julian said, "You also transformed into a Myrde. Do you remember that?"

Evianna was in shock, flashes of memory lit up her mind like the lanterns that appeared at the Myrde Festival, yet she could not recollect a transformation. "Maybe, I remember flying and looking at the sunrise but then...."

"It's alright; we will help you piece together your memories. For the moment, you should rest."

Julian and Romile left the room, leaving Evianna to collapse back into her cocoon of blankets. The sweet smell of lupine flowers permeated her senses until she could almost taste them, opening her mind. As she relaxed, greeting sleep once again, the heat of power sparked within her.