The room was a haven of heat and purple mist; the room glowed fiery purple from the multiple grand hearths that were built in every corner of the massive room. The golden glow blended nicely with the burgundy aesthetic of the room.
Towering arched floor-to-ceiling windows open wide to welcome the pale purple glow from the moon.
Moonlight streamed through the windows, bathing the room with soft lavender hues.
Arwen lay unmoving on the family-sized bed made for royals that sat at the centre of the room, its deep plum wine blankets draped over her like a soft caress.
For a second, she was still in her dreamless slumber, her face calm and tranquil. Breathe shallowly.
When suddenly – her eyes flew wide open.
She jerked upright with a deep, sharp gasp, like she was from the depths of the ocean, yanked out of sleep like a drowning girl reaching the surface.
Her chest fell and rose in sharp, uneven breaths; her heart rammed aggressively against her rib cage.
She looked around, frantic and scared.
Her eyes darted around, scanning the room, taking in everything and nothing at once.
A series of questions rushed her fragile head, so sudden and overwhelming that it felt like she was hit on the head.
She let out a small groan as she held her head as if to prevent it from cracking open.
The heat of the room finally got to her, or it was the sudden wave of panic, confusion and dread that made her flushed from head to toe.
Still panting, her eyes flicked about, lost and wandering. A deep frown creased her forehead.
"W-where am I?" She whispered softly. Her voice was barely audible.
Her right hand fell to the bed, brushing the soft silk material. She paused at first, then she clutched a handful of it, fingers instinctively tightening.
The softness of it amazed her. She had never touched anything like it. Certainly never slept in it.
She narrowed her eyes at the sight.
Slowly but eventually, memories came into mind, one after the other like a child flipping through a picture book.
From the intrusion of the soldiers, Rhea's scream, the capture of her sisters, the burning cottage, and her cowardly efforts to escape only to fall into a ditch.
Her stomach curled at the recollection. Shame ate her ribs.
Her eyes widened; panic expanded in her forest green irises. She scrambled out of the silky, pillowy comfort of the bed. Ignoring the protest of her body, she soon regretted it when her feet touched the marble floors and her head swam in a dizzy spell.
Her hands flailed out, ready to hold on to something as she tried to place her feet firmly on the ground.
Feet.
She remembered something. Her eyes flickered downwards to her right ankle, expecting to find a swollen, ugly, bruising wound, but she saw nothing.
It was okay, fine, healed?… She didn't know what had happened in the time she'd been unconscious.
Her curtain bangs framed her wide, disoriented face, stray strands stuck to her damp face.
She looked out of order.
Her dress was a plain white shapeless smock, her hair a complete mess on top of her head – dishevelled – and her composure lacking.
She blinked twice as she took another look at the interior of the room. Her heart slowed. Dread slowly crawled up her neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps up her shoulders.
Was she in the palace?
Did the soldiers manage to catch her?
She glanced down at her ankle again and frowned.
Cautiously, she raised her right foot and slowly pressed it down, her face contorted in a wince, expecting the sharp jolt of pain, but nothing happened.
She did it again and again.
Her shoulders sagged in relief. Her eyes darted around. She must have healed herself – though she didn't remember it working, there was no time to wonder.
Panic struck her anew, kick-started her adrenaline, and she sprang into action with one aim in mind: she needed to find her sisters.
If only she knew.
Barefooted, she bolted. Her feet slapped against the marble floor as she ran, the cold from the tiles biting into her flesh. She pulled the doorknobs of the large wooden door, half expecting it to be locked, but it wasn't.
She didn't pause to ask why.
She ran out.
Arwen's heart was beating loudly in her throat the moment she stepped out and saw how long the hallway was.
It was endless, it was dark, and it was eerily quiet.The fire torches by the walls burnt dimly, flickering like candlelight.
Her eyes squinted; confusion made her halt in her steps.
Something was not right.
She could feel it, she could sense it; the air felt heavier, the air singed like electric threads, but she wasn't about to stop. Not when there was a chance of saving her sisters.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. She looked left and right.
Both sides looked the same. Dark, endless and empty.
Right.
She nodded to herself, bundled the ends of the gown she wore, raised it above her knees and marched forward.
With tears held still at her eyelids, her fingers reached for her necklace. A string holding a green star-shaped gem that rested on her collarbone.
A memory sparked.
It flashed through her mind. One of her mother kneeling in front of them. Giving out three identical precious necklaces to her three daughters.
"The closer you are, the brighter they shine," her mother had whispered.
She could never forget those exact words spoken by her mother months before her disappearance.
And she was right.
Oh, didn't Arwen know it.
Ever since the necklace was clasped around their neck, taking it off was physically and magically impossible.
They did try.
She used to hate how her sisters always knew when she was farther away, but now as she walked to each door and stealthily pushed her chest forward, she made silent thanks to her mother for the necklace.
She pressed forward, her heart heavy.
She went from door to door, eyes glassy, throat tight. Desperation clawed at her insides; she was further away from the room she woke up in, and the gem hadn't emitted a single glow.
Not even a flicker of light.
She panted heavily; her body soon began to feel too heavy for her to carry, and she could no longer maintain her quietness.
Her steps echoed louder.
She had lost count of the doors she had reached; her heart fell. Something ugly and sad kicked at her insides.
It was the truth.
The silence became suffocating; her breath came in gasps.
The gem was as dark and dull as a pebble covered in dirt and mud.
It had never looked like this ever since her mother gave it to her.
It only meant one thing.
Her sisters weren't here.
She knew it.
Another painful memory struck her, piercing her heart like a sword. She blinked rapidly, admitting her disappointment and fear.
Her green eyes shimmered with unshed tears; as if drawn by an invisible force, she glanced up like her mother was right in front of her.
For a moment, she could swear her mother was looking down at her.
Standing just the way she did that sad night, above her, with her warm hands cupping her face gently.
Arwen was suddenly transported to her memory. She gasped; her breath began to seize.
Tears ran down her cheeks in quick succession.
Her mother's grey eyes stared down at her, her smile infectious as always. Just so that Arwen found herself smiling even though she was stirred awake by her mother's sudden visit to her room.
It took a while for her to realise all was not well.
The room was perfectly still, the quietness from her mother as she stood and watched with eyes that glistened.
Perched on her mother's back was luggage.
Where was Mother going in the middle of the night? Little Arwen wanted to ask, but her mother beat her to it.
"You always have questions, little one," she spoke softly, smiling through her words, but Arwen could detect the sadness that laced her voice.
"I have never asked anything of you since I brought you in from that blizzard," she said, her voice trembling now, shaking with emotion. "But tonight I beg of you—" Her mother suddenly broke down crying, sobbing even. Harsh, shaking and intense.
Little Arwen frowned. Her mother was never this emotional. It scared her. Without thinking, she threw off her quilt and wrapped her small limbs around her mother.
The woman folded her into her chest and sobbed harder. She buried her face in Arwen's hair and cradled her like she was afraid to let go.
"Oh my poor baby," she wept. "My poor, precious baby." Her voice broke. "Forgive me for leaving you with such a burden, but I beg of you, protect your sisters. Please protect them with your life." Little Arwen couldn't understand what was happening.
All she could do was hug her mother tight and nod dutifully like she always did.
"I expected absolutely nothing from you when I brought you in." Her mother continued. "You are and always will be my baby. It's selfish of me, but I can't help but beg this of you: protect your sisters for me, okay?"
Suddenly, she wrenched Arwen from her bosom and held her face firmly, forcing her to lock eyes with her.
Little Arwen didn't even blink. She watched herself, her big doe-green eyes in her mother's glassy ones.
"P-promise me you will, Arwen." Her voice fell to a whisper, trembling.
Arwen didn't think twice. She didn't even hesitate. She didn't think of the weight of her request.
She was more than willing to please her mother.
Innocently, she nodded.
Her smile, identical to that of her mother even though they didn't share the same blood, and her actions were starting to resemble that of her mother.
"I promise, Mother," she whispered softly.
The woman closed her eyes, and a fresh new wave of tears streamed down her cheeks. She opened them and managed a weak smile at Arwen.
"Do not forget that I love you, okay?"she whispered.
Little Arwen nodded.
"No matter what happens, what happened. Regardless of what you are, I would do it all again. I love you, my precious daughter."
Arwen beamed.
"I love you too, Mama."
She leaned in, pressing her forehead to Arwen's.
The memory ended right there; Arwen was pulled out violently. She gasped, staggered, and her knees buckled beneath her. Her back struck the wall, and she slumped down, sobs tearing out of her as the memories crashed into her without pause.
She clutched onto the necklace at her collarbone, the only piece she had left of that promise.
"I failed, Mother." She cried, shaking her head as tears began afresh. "I failed…"