Out of the remaining royal families since the Red Death, the Sylvians are by far the cruelest.
After ousting the Kalderes in a midnight coup and establishing control of the Capital, they seized oversight of trade between the DeMeteors and the Kosmairians. The Sylvians proceeded to isolate and exile any remaining members of the Kaldere family to The Wilds, where many of them remain unseen to this day.
From the Written History of events pre-Red Death, maintained and distributed by The Whisperers and scribes in the Capital.
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"Gravity, lace her up and please,
Pull her body up to me,
Save her body from the fall
By the gods, just hear my call!"
Words flowed like water rapids. Crackling energy struck like a whip.
The humbling surrender now felt like a hollow coffin.
Gwynevere's eyes flickered. A terror buried within didn't allow them to open fully. She caught glimpses of a gilded path below her, a blinding light, and an aura encompassing her soul.
She was weightless now, all feeling of serenity was replaced by realization. Gwyn was flying… maybe floating.
Am I on the moon?
Moving her arms, she discovered all control had been forfeited. Slowly, she levitated back from whence she came.
Every second, her delirium doubled. Her entire body was exhausted, yet fully alert. The inescapable nature of her situation led her to conclude that control was an illusion now. Her neck ached like a scalding iron rod had pierced it. The pounding of her heart deafened her mind.
What happened?
The Chosen One had no comprehension of her attempted measure.
After a few more moments of weightlessness, her body was within the threshold of her room. Gwyn's feet floated above the marble flooring. A hooded figure's arm trembled as they pointed a dagger directly at Gwyn; it glowed neon green, cast within a golden shell. The figure kept pointing at Gwyn until the Chosen One was as far from the window as they could muster.
When the figure collapsed, so did Gwyn.
The ceiling spun; its ornate, floral appearance twisted into a spiral. Heavy breathing, a worried cry, and a blanket swallowed the Chosen One.
"Are you okay?!"
The voice trembled in pure terror.
Gwyn mumbled incoherently, unsure of what had just occurred. Her vision was filled with little black dots spinning into shadow.
The hooded figure pulled the young woman into a nearly strangling embrace and gently caressed her hair like she was a small animal.
"You're safe now… everything's going to be okay."
The soft voice repeated, over and over, like they were a broken record.
A blissful moment. A surrender to comfort. A reminiscent waking dream of times extinguished.
Mother?
Gwyn was then swallowed by darkness.
The next thing Gwyn felt was a brush of fingers against her scalp, gracefully tracing between her locks. There was a soft surface beneath her head. A melodic humming filled her ears with a song she didn't recognize, but it was comforting.
Her eyes flickered open, and she saw an elegant face that was unfamiliar to her. They were an elven woman with long, pink hair. Studded earrings traced the edge of her long, pointed ears that jutted from a dark robe. The figure looked off into the distance as they hummed a sweet lullaby.
Something about the perspective was off.
Am I… on her lap?
Gwyn suddenly jolted up and backed away from the creature. Panic overtook her.
The elven woman wore a scared expression and raised her hands as if she'd done something wrong. The elf shook nervously.
"I'm sorry… you had passed out after you fell… I just… wanted to make sure you were okay."
Fell?
Gwyn looked around her. She was in… not her room… again.
This isn't a dream.
She looked towards the open space where the window once was. It was completely gone, not even shattered. It was like it never existed. Fueled by adrenaline, she stood and traced herself around the edge of the room, standing as far from the elf as possible.
"What happened? Why are you here?"
The elf put her hands on her lap and looked to where the window used to be.
"You were walking strangely, like you were sick or something." The elf remained kneeling on the floor. She paused, and her face flushed. "I'm sorry, but I followed you. I'm glad I did because when I opened your door—"
"I was falling."
Gwyn finished her sentence, fully remembering what happened.
The elf solemnly nodded.
"Yes… Well… your face was pressed against the glass, then it… vanished. If I hadn't come when I did—"
Gwyn held up her hand. She already knew what she was about to say.
They both were quiet for some time. The sound of the rushing wind filled the room, tugging at the women's hair. They occasionally snuck glances at one another. Gwyn eventually made her way to the bed, sitting on its edge. The elf did the same.
Should I say "thank you"? Was thank you enough?How does one thank someone appropriately for saving one's life?
They kept avoiding eye contact with one another, and the air suddenly felt leaden. Gwyn opened her mouth, but words kept catching in her throat. She closed her eyes, and when she did, she was in an embrace.
"I read those notes. I heard what they said to you… I'm… sorry. My people can be cruel."
The elf tried to sound thoughtful, but her tone betrayed her, and instead sounded as though she might be talking to herself.
Gwyn's loss for words continued. Her arms hung by her side, unsure of what to do. An unfamiliar warmth radiated off the elf. She eventually succumbed to a hidden desire and held the elf as well.
She buried her head deep into the stranger's shoulder. She did not know why, but Gwyn held on like her life depended on it. When they finally pulled away from each other, the elf's shoulder was slightly damp from the tears Gwyn had no idea she'd wept.
They made eye contact. The elf had a red streak below her nose that appeared to be blood.
Gwyn awkwardly pointed to her own upper lip.
"You got a little..."
"Oh my!" The pink-haired elf pulled out a handkerchief, cleaning her face. "Must've missed a spot." She laughed nervously. "Sorry if that was unsightly. Um… how are you feeling?"
How was I feeling?
The stranger's face before her was still mostly obscured by her hood. They nervously fidgeted with their hair as Gwyn thought of an answer.
"I'm feeling… better."
Gwyn's face feeling hot suddenly.
Why does the air feel so heavy?
The young woman was having trouble breathing, and her stomach was in knots. She looked away from the elf and to the vacant hole where the window once was.
The elf put her hand on Gwyn's thigh, tightening her fingers.
"Hey, you're safe now."
Was I safe?
Her eyes lifted again. The elf was staring at her, worry and care painted her every feature. Her eyes darted all over Gwyn's face, as though she were looking for something.
"Do you need me to get you anything?"
It was suddenly very apparent how dry Gwyn's mouth was and how fast her heart was beating.
"Could I trouble you for some water?"
"No trouble at all."
The stranger checked the nearby cabinets for a glass to use, but they were empty. Then she checked the dresser, but the drawers were bare. She let out a sigh of frustration and tapped her foot. Next, she checked the closet. A burlap bag sat on the floor. She opened it, and inside was a white dress and a small piece of fabric.
"Uh… did you request a bonnet, perhaps?"
The elf dangled the fabric like a rat from its tail.
Gwyn thought of the Head Whisperer. A smile creased her lips.
"I would rather die."
The elf grimaced at the fabric and tossed the bonnet out of the gaping hole where the window used to be.
"The damned Head Whisperer tries to get everyone to wear those things."
"Really?" A chuckle. "I thought I was special."
"No. Well, you are, but not when it comes to his accessory antics." The elf scratched their head. "I'm just so perplexed as to why they didn't give you anything."
Gwyn had suddenly become aware of the slight accent the elf's voice carried, and it delighted her greatly.
"This isn't normal?"
The elf stifled a laugh.
"Gods, no. They really didn't give you anything, huh?" She placed her fist to her chin, and then it dawned on her. "I'll fetch you a glass from my room; I'll be right down the hall."
The elf took the dress and hung it up. They made a quick exit, leaving Gwyn alone.
When she left, a loud gust blew through the open space and filled the room, sending a chill up Gwyn's spine. It was getting dark outside.
How long was I sleeping?
Gwyn looked to the door.
How long was she waiting for me to wake up?