Duality

part twenty-one

Mila took a long time to wake up. She knew this the same way she knew she was breathing, that the world went on around her. Coming to conscious felt like sitting up in slow motion, trying to exist in a space she couldn't quite understand.

When she finally managed to lift her heavy eyelids, she saw the face of an older woman she didn't recognize.

Crow's feet branched from her eyes, combining with the lines around her mouth to make her look overly concerned. Despite her age—obvious from the gray hair—her brown eyes were sharp, alert, jumping to various parts of Mila's face.

"She's up." The woman's lips never moved, but she had to be the one speaking. Her head turned, looking for someone or something else. Mila's head turned to look with her and found a pillow close to her face. She lay on top of a mattress of some kind, with a familiar blanket covering her up to her waist.

Though the flickering light from the candles around the room felt too bright, Mila surveyed the scene. She noted the quilts, the way every surface had a homemade touch.

She'd been here before.

"Mila?"

She turned her head back to see that Ashton had replaced the old woman. Rolling her thick tongue in her mouth, Mila tried to form a question.

"It's okay," Ashton said, sitting on the bed with her. The mattress dipped with his weight. "You don't have to speak." She wanted to, but her jaw felt like an unused muscle. "You can keep resting, if you want."

After working her mouth around, Mila managed, "How long was I out?"

The woman muttered something, making Ashton turn away. A stab of jealousy shot through Mila, and when Ashton returned his attention to her, Mila had settled her gaze beyond him. Obviously she'd intruded on the relationship between them.

"Don't worry about that," Ashton said. He pulled the blanket up to her chin, stifling her. "How do you feel?"

Like she didn't want the blanket so high up. Her arm moved to pull the cover down, and his arm moved up to stop her. The old woman appeared, placing something cool on Mila's forehead. All at once, it clicked: this was Ashton's place, and the old woman must be his guardian.

Mila rolled her head away from the woman. She didn't want to focus on what she couldn't have.

The old woman paused at her bedside before moving off into the back. Another exclusionary conversation was held outside of her hearing. Closing her eyes, Mila wondered if she stayed still enough if she could slip back into oblivion.

"Just rest some more," Ashton said, his hand smoothing against her hair.

His touch felt good, soothing. She leaned into his hand, strangely glad to have his company, even if she felt like an intruder on his life as it was. The older woman said something in the background again, reinforcing the fact.

Mila had never needed to sleep, but the wave of exhaustion washing over her didn't feel like when she died. Though she had no idea what was happening, she didn't fight the tide pulling her in.

Before she got swept under, though, she made out the old woman's words: "I'm not sure it's going to help."

The next time she woke, she was alone. Without opening her eyes she determined she was in new surroundings, as well: the scent of woods surrounded her, like she'd slept under trees. Cautiously Mila opened her eyes, wondering if she'd been abandoned in the woods.

Abandoned, yes, but in the hut.

The accommodations were sparse compared to the warm room she'd stayed in previously, but all of them reminded Mila of Anna. These were all her things—the chair, the makeshift bed, the table—that allowed her to comfortably live with Mila in the woods. Without Anna, the arrangements meant nothing: Mila only needed her powers.