Crossroads (Book Two)

Chapter Seven: Hearth and Heart

The dream plagued her.

Screech!

Crash!

A fading steel rainbow around her.

Anayrn's death stare.

Night, after night, after night. An endless loop throughout her sleep. She was an immobile prisoner shackled in nightmares without a voice. Doomed to witness the same scene time and again. Each time the dream began she fought for control.

They were driving. Her mother was speaking; her head turned to face Aurora. But the words were lost to the background. Aurora's gaze stretched beyond her mother. To the oncoming vehicle approaching at high speed yet slowed down by time. Everything around them in hyper focus.

In a moment, it would happen. Metal would strike metal. Then her world would be different. Shattered. But she still had this moment frozen in time.

This is where she fought for control.

Her lips parted, ready to demand answers to questions that had been silenced. In this moment, she saw her mother. Relaxed, carefree and smiling. Planning for a future that would never come. This was the mother she knew.

The woman that lied to her.

The mother that laughed with her.

The woman that stole her identity.

The mother that loved her.

The woman that betrayed her.

It was too late. Time unfroze. As she opened her mouth to speak her voice became that of someone screaming underwater. Glass shattered around her. Metal crunched nearby. Her mother's hair floated in the air as her head slammed back from the impact.

But nothing touched her.

It was over in an instant. Anaryn's lifeless eyes drew her into the darkness of a vortex. She was spun out onto the bright sunlight and the sound of screeching tires.

Aurora wiped her face and gave a tired sigh. She sat at the edge of a bed in an unfamiliar room. Neera had wanted to place her in one of the grander rooms, but she quickly squashed that idea the moment she asked if her mother had used it. Instead, she'd opted for a much smaller room, but closer to Eri, who had decided to stay in Crown Guard along with her brother.

They'd been in Crown Guard for nearly a week before Aurora had worked up the courage to write to Lily. She had agonized about the letter for hours, not certain of what she should write. There was much she wanted to say but couldn't. In the end, she'd settled for a simple message.

I am safe. Heal soon.

Aurora

The soft light of a glowstone revealed that dawn was still hours away. When sleep brought her neither rest or comfort, she dressed and wandered into the halls. Neera had advised the staff to allow her to go where ever she pleased, though they did not know her identity. There were no awkward glances or uncomfortable conversations. All they knew was that she was a welcomed guest of the Steward.

For several nights she had roamed and explored the multiple levels of the palace complex. It was a very large complex, and she could count in one hand the number of paths she knew. There was much to be discovered, but there was one path she knew well where it led. She had only been there once after Neera had shown it to her.

The Royal Portrait Room. She stood at the center of the back wall before the portrait of her mother. Anaryn was about her age in the portrait. Dressed in a white gown with a navy sash, a golden crown rested on wheat colored hair and a scepter  in her hand. Aurora looked up to study her face. The artist had done a remarkable job of capturing the fire in her green eyes. She was warm and powerful and regal and foreign all at the same time.