Peak of Autumn, Week 4, Day 4

I woke up to a vivid world impaling me. Even in the early morning light, I could make out the finer details of my room that even after months I had never noticed. From the smooth transition of paint to the small crack by the baseboard caused when I fell yesterday. Now, I saw the details, processed them, stored them, but they simply were. I didn’t need to focus on them any more than I needed to focus on the wall to know it was a wall. Through the window came the green light of the moon, Revel. It’s monstrous size provided an equal amount of light, but the hue was unsettling enough that I had a hard time forcing myself back to sleep.

Uncovering my body, I felt strong. I felt alive. My muscles, my heart, my hair, my skin –I was brimming with vitality. It was hard to hate this world when my body simply felt good. Running my hands across my arms, I could feel muscles hiding beneath a child’s body. Making my way to a mirror, I studied my body. I was still in my nightgown from the day before, barefooted, and with my hair held back in a messy braid. Perhaps, had I not outwardly changed, I would have felt more at ease. But as it was, there was a gentle glow beneath my skin –not of magic or other such mysticism. No. It was the glow of a healthy child. I grit my teeth. After months of barely sustaining myself, of floundering, of refusing to thrive, simply accepting a Class had healed my bodily woes. No longer was I undersized and scrawny, drowning in the fabric of my nightgown, but now my body was lithe and looked as if I was the sort to spend every waking moment running in the woods, or riding dressage, or simply playing. The physical stats I had gained caused me to change. Now I was more like in elsewhere.

I felt my stomach roll and I swallowed.

I wish I could say that seeing my body in such a state, feeling the way it was impacting my mind, that I felt a renewed sense of wonder. That it gave me the drive to become strong. The truth was that being in this new land made me feel empty –no. Angry. The Eunora from before my awakening was hopeful, she was intelligent, and she wanted to make the Dawn family proud -even if that mattered little to the rest of the family. But she was cripplingly shy and woefully neglected. Memories of elsewhere brought me thoughts of warm embraces, of loving words, of striving to better myself, of a support system. I had wanted to be the best me I could be –for myself and my loved ones.

But now they were gone. Or I was. Worlds away. As I stared out the window up at Revel, tears pricked at the back of my eyes. The green moon, taking up a quarter of the sky, had a blue ring surrounding it. It was foreign, even now. Even after all this time. The fact that I felt strong made it worse, not better. I would rather be withered.

Down below my window laid the hedge maze —now a cacophony of reds and oranges painted the hedges leaves, rather than the vibrancy of spring. Fall was in full swing, after all. Perhaps had Eunora —no, me, had I been born in spring, with the life it brought to the world, I would be feeling hopeful. This view made me want to lay in a pile of fallen brown leaves and burrow beneath them to hide from the world. Perhaps one day, if I left this room, I would do just that.

Perhaps that day was today. I placed my hand on the window, stretching my fingers in anticipation and trepidation both. Then a knock resounded throughout my room, followed by a brief pause before the door flung open to reveal a woman twice my height with looks that foretold my future.

Light flooded my room as I took in the woman. Thick black curls and eyes so blue they were nearly indigo. A dress of the finest linen, dyed the perfect shade of pink to mimic the light of dawn. Indigo embroidery to match the woman’s fierce expression. Her curls both untamed and under control, held back from her face with a white tiara.

Mother. I could feel Eunora’s—my own yearning for the woman. She was unmistakable. She was beautiful and proud and strong. She looked young, mid-thirties, perhaps that wasn’t so young to most —let alone to a child, but this was the Lady of the house.

This was Countess Mallorica Dawn, the [Lady of Red Daybreak].

Despite the depths of my psyche clawing for her attention, her love, the part of me that lived remembered Raphael. How he hadn’t known when I’d Awakened. How this woman had not bothered to pay attention.

Looking over at her from the window, I met her gaze, rage beginning to boil within my veins. There was nothing to fear from her, not truly. She was strong, yes. She had a presence, also true. But still. She will not strike me down for nothing.

“Eunora, daughter,” A knife wrenched into my heart at her words, at her cold tone, at the smile that played on her severe face, “I believe we need to discuss your behavior.”

A moment passed. Then another. I bit the inside of my cheek.

I still did not speak.

Mother didn’t even look uncomfortable as she walked over to the sofa in my room and sat. She laid her hands in her lap as she ran her eyes over my body, whether she could tell a difference was lost on me.

“Well, at least you’re out of bed.” The disapproval in her voice shook me more than I was expecting and I had to rush to catch the thread of anger that was quickly giving was to a flood of old emotions. Emotions that were no longer mine.

This woman, no matter how I call her, she is not my mother. She never could be. I have a mother.

“I am.” My voice was clipped, harsh, tougher than the Countess. I couldn’t adjust it, nor did I want to.

“I heard—“ the Countess flicked her eyes from me to the sofa opposite her and back to me, “that you have not left this room since Rise.”

Straightening my back, I turned fully towards her and took a single step, saying nothing. I wanted to scream, to tell her I would not be explaining to her why, to make her understand he had to go. Not for me, but for Eunora, the original. You shouldn’t be here with me. I am not the one who yearns for your love, Countess.

“Were you a peasant, you would have starved, rotted away from disease, or dehydrated.” The Countess said this so casually, with a humor that did not fit her, that I took a sharp breath, “You are fortunate to be a Dawn, Eunora.”

I bit my cheek harder, still yet to taste the copper of blood. Still yet to have the pain ground me.

Am I supposed to say ‘thank you’? Nausea forced me to swallow once again.

“You are too young, and too high bred, to be this way. To be—“ The Countess actually did sound sincere, at least in her irritation. Maybe such a thing could be born out of love, but it was more than likely I was an inconvenience. Either way, she eventually found the words she was looking for, “To be so degenerate. We’ve let you be for a while. It’s time for you to stop this.”

Ah, there it was.

I felt my outrage pour over, there was no more room in my small body for the feeling. It tinged the edge of my eyes and picked up my heartbeat.

You didn’t even know! Eunora is g o n e. She is gone and I have taken her place and you never even came to check why I hadn’t left the room!

Through my fog of anger I was only able to get out, “Let me be?”

At the Countess’ cold expression I knew the answer was a resounding, Yes. She considered her inaction -no, her ignorance to be a passive allowance of my actions.

Now, when I bit the inside of my cheek, the taste of copper seeped out.

“Why?”

The Countess’ brows rose, “Why what, Eunora?”

“Why should I leave this room?” Meeting the Countess’ eyes were too much and I had to look away, the sharpness was shifting something within me.

Unbidden, memories flitted forward. Of the Countess hushing the Count, of her ordering the Staff, of the siblings lining up to greet her on formal occasions. I knew she was the Countess Dawn. But she is not just that —because she is of the Dawn. A true born daughter just like me. From representing the County to the Queen, to dominating in wars, she is a terrifying woman.

“Are you saying the reason you’ve not left your room is because there was no reason to?”

Looking down at my hands, I was mildly surprised they were clenched so tightly. Maybe Eunora controls more of me than I thought.

I nodded without looking back to the Countess.

“What about our family? Your classes? Leveling up?”

“I don’t care about those things.”

I still hadn’t looked back.

“None of them? Not even us?”

I bit my lip to stop a snort from escaping, but nodded my head.

After a pause, she spoke. This time my mother’s voice was hard, not offended - not really, simply stern, “If none of these things interest you, then I will be the reason you leave this room.”

The Countess paused, turning her head towards the window briefly before standing and focusing her gaze back on me, “Eunora, I am sending you to the west -to the far reaches of Maeve. I am making a decision for the good of the Dawn. You will live in the borderlands.”

Confused, I looked up to her, but she continued without wavering, “While there you will learn what is required of a member of house Dawn -you will have many options. Study diligently in your classes to become a proper noble, train your body to become a member of the Conclave’s knights, or continue to remain ignorant of the world. There will be knights, magicians, and scholars to guide you. Pick one path —or dabble in all three. Or continue to fester. You will remain in the west until your coming of age.”

“You… are you exiling me?”

“I believe this is a win for both of us, Eunora. I will have you out of this room and on a path other than isolation -whatever that path may be. Meanwhile, you will have ten years to decide what matters to you, without having to be bothered by the rest of us.”

The Countess had a distasteful expression as she gestured to herself and the estate around her, but her voice could not be said to be filled with anything more than authority. With that, she turned away from me and made her way out of the room, pausing at the doorway to look over at me, “Remember, the Dawn family is a pillar of Maeve. Even allowing you to be cast out to the borderlands is a concession. You leave in a week.”

As the door closed behind her, a green system notice filled my vision.

[Congratulations! Mental Fortitude is now level 4!]

“This system is sadistic,” I bit out.

I was going to lay back down, sleep until I was forced to leave. But right as I went to fall back into my pillows, I found myself standing and walking over to the window.

Suddenly, the thought of leaving the room wasn’t so daunting —not if I was being forced to do so already. With a deep breath I unlatched the window pane and pushed it open. In the garden, leaves rustled with the wind and birds chirped overhead. Occasionally, I could see a small animal flitting from hedge to hedge. It made me want to feel even half as alive as the hedge maze below.

So, I pushed the window even wider. The window ledge was the perfect height to sit upon and stare out over the gardens. The perfect place to feel the breeze across my face. But I didn’t sit on the ledge —I stood on it. And I jumped.

If it had been the Eunora from before, even the second story would have hurt her. Broken a bone, or sprained an ankle. But I had mid-level Vitality, Strength, and Perception. So I simply landed, bending my knees as my feet sunk into the soft soil.

Sliding through the gap between two bushes, I stepped onto the brick walkway. Lightly, I began walking to the center of the garden.

There was a cloying anger in my heart, burning me. Indignation and outrage and a burning desire for the emptiness I had felt for the past months. But, still, I walked through the maze.

From my room, I had memorized the paths within the half-dead hedge maze that surrounded the central fountain. A quick right, go past the next intersection, a left just to follow a hedge that goes into a u-turn, follow the hedge straight, another right, and a final left at the last intersection, lead me to a circular opening with a large fountain in the middle. Four stone benches surrounded it, set in between the four entrances to the clearing. All four were covered in hedged archways, but one had more ornate decorations. This was the entry to the main courtyard — and where the Dawn’s held garden parties. Memories unhelpfully supplying context to the world around me. The archways were decorated by Dawn Roses -those that hold all the colors of a sunrise, a pale orange base with petals that shifted into a soft pink and were rimmed with a bright red, these flowers decorated all key entry and exit points on the estate.

I sat on the edge of the fountain, swinging my feet right above the water, and stared up at the statue that overlooked the hedge maze. It was of the hero Countess Lyla Dawn, and it was carved with such detail that I often wondered if it was going to wake up one day and start walking around. The statue of Lyla was adorned like all pieces focusing on her were -her long hair was pulled up and through a warrior’s helm, the helm itself had two horns protruding off the sides and sweeping back away from her face. The statue had her in her standard leather armor, the tasseled skirt flowed to her knees, the greaves and bracers she wore had two blades protruding out of them. It was said that being behind Lyla’s guard was just as bad as being out of it, because no matter where you were there was always a blade ready to devour you. The sculptor had given her the signature spear she was said to have wielded in war time, with one arm by her side and the other grasping the haft. Lyla Dawn was often lauded as the savior of the kingdom during the Hilled Wars centuries ago.

After seeing her statue, I had wondered what great feat she had accomplished, what mythic class she must have had. The answer was a bit mundane, my mind supplied once more Her class was a combat class, undisclosed, but her fame lies in that she collapsed the supply line of the Ylle, one of the larger Hill Tribes. After waiting two weeks, she and her company attacked the malnourished troops of the Ylle and took away the strategic outcropping they were occupying. In the end, she was yet another noble who didn’t really care about the collateral damage she caused. To this day, the Ylle lands are unable to be safely inhabited due to Lyla destroying a mountain pass and poisoning a key water supply. Some time later, the refugees from the Hill Tribes found their way to Maeve and caused a civil war in the process. One book Eunora read featured a historian that endearingly referred to that timeframe as ‘the Dawn of a broken Maeve’. That did wonders for the Dawn name, I’m sure. Even still, she was lauded as the great divide between a Noble and a Queensmen.

Taking a breath, I met the statue's bored-looking eyes, “Lyla, how did you make it through the war?”

As if the Gods were answering on her behalf, a strong wind filled the courtyard -bringing with it several of the Dawn Roses. One of which drifted across my face, settling onto my lap. Gingerly picking up the rose, I held it in both my hands and let a small smile form.

“You know, back home these roses had a different name -they were called the Love and Peace Rose,” I brought the bud up to my face and inhaled, “I never saw them in person, just the hand-dyed roses at the local store. I don’t know if they fit our legacy, but they are beautiful.”

Taking another moment, I looked back to Lyla and slid from the fountain’s edge into the water. On an adult, it may have been mid-calf depth, but it reached past my knees and drenched the bottom quarter of my nightgown. I waded to the center of the fountain and climbed to the pedestal that the statue was standing on. Reaching the farthest I could, my arm was barely stretched to her collar bone -but it was enough. I let go, letting the rose that was in my palm sit atop a precarious ledge right above the statue’s chest.

“May the Dawn ever rise, Lyla.”

As I climbed back down, the wind returned and caused me to shiver. It wasn’t a particularly cold day, but the wind tickled the wetness soaking my dress. It may have been pushing it to trudge through water in a thin nightgown -even if I did have five times the Vitality of other kids my age.

As the suns fully rose, and Revel settled down in the far horizon, I watched as the light cascaded down the statue. I stood back and watched as the rose I had placed stayed on Lyla’s chest for an inordinate amount of time. Eventually I sat on one of the stone benches and felt the coldness creeping up my legs from the wet nightgown. Somehow, it made me feel alive.

It wasn’t until I began hearing voices approaching over an hour later that I got up and decided to head back to my room.