Chapter 3

                                    

                                          
There was nothing in the darkness. She was not dead, but her soul felt detached all the same. She felt a pull. Suddenly, visions apprehended her mind's eye: a male, not entirely human in his ethereal beauty. Then, a skeleton with bits of decaying flesh still clinging to his bones. Both wore a crown of ivory, obsidian jewels intricately placed. With these visions of beauty and death, she felt her body materializing. A hand reached out to grab hers tightly. It was so cold it burned her skin, but she felt comfort from the touch. A dark laugh surrounded her, echoing off the chambers of the darkness. 
"Come back to our world, yarun." A disembodied male voice called out to her. She savored the soft caress of his words, of being called his yarun. The meaning of that word was on the tip of her mind, and she attempted to squeeze the hand holding onto her as the hand pulled her back----


Emyra gasped, clenching the soft sheets under her as she came back. Her senses were still lulled, but she knew where she was. She was back at the manor but not in her bed. As her sight sharpened, she looked towards the glass wall. The afternoon sun shone brightly upon her. In her haze, she could see the shapes of the beds that lined both sides of the room opposite the glass wall. She was in the healer's corner. And Maya, her best friend, was unconscious in the bed next to her. What had happened?
She was finally coming out of the lull as Brian Alcove, one of the coven elders, opened the door adjacent to her. His silver eyes caught hers, and he hurried to her side. "Oh, Emyra!" he affectionately clapped a hand on her shoulder. "I have been worried sick. Are you well?" His eyes, alight with a parental worry, skimmed her over to find any injury. Emyra nodded softly, still in a daze but coming back slowly. "What happened?" she murmured, looking over to Maya. Alcove tsked. "I was hoping you could tell me." He said softly. "We found both of you pale and cold. It's been three days that you have been unconscious." He squeezed her shoulder. Three days... Emyra pondered. What happened before that? One minute, she was bathing with Maya and the wisps, and then it was black. Memories were begging to be revealed from her subconscious,  but her attempts to pull them to the forefront were futile. "I haven't the faintest idea..." Emyra trailed off, looking towards her hand for the answers. But something wasn't right. Her hands, usually pale as the moon, were a healthy pink hue. She glided her fingers over her skin, then her eyes trailed to a raven lock. Her breath hitched.
"Ah," Alcove cleared his throat. "Yes, that happened as well. Your hair changed, and your skin darkened. Although it suits you, Emyra, rest assured. But not even High Priestess Helena could say what happened. Are you certain you don't remember?" He inched closer, putting both hands on each shoulder. Emyra only shook her head. It was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't remember. "Is the High Priestess still here?" She asked, looking at Maya. "Did she look over her as well?" 
"It's the same." He grimly shook his head. "You were both so cold, so pale, almost like you were near death. Helena and Guaritoria couldn't decipher why." She nods, squeezing his hand gently as she slowly gets up. "I wish to retire to my room for privacy," Emyra stated. Alcove nodded,  stepping aside for her. She bowed forward slightly and moved to leave the healer's corner. Outside, she saw a glimmer of the family room filled with the other witches and warlocks. They all snapped their heads to her, but Emyra only moved down the hallway to the stairwell. She wished not to engage with anyone else as she ascended to the second level. She walked down the hall to the last door. She attempted to ground herself, acknowledging her presence back in their home. Opening the door, she took in her chamber to center herself. Rich midnight purple drapes covered the window above Emyra's bed; permanently closed no matter what time of day. The other window, however, was always uncovered as Maya rose with the first light of the sun when it was above the horizon. The floors were of triangulo wood, so dark they were almost black. Between their beds was a protection and casting circle big enough for two to sit within. She walked in, closing her eyes as she took in the smells of lavender and rosemary. Whatever had happened to her, she was safe now. She was back with her coven.
But for some reason, she did not feel alone in her room where no one else was. In fact, she felt her shadow was slightly too prominent behind her when there was little light to cast. Emyra closed the door and laid within the protection circle. As she lay on the cold floor, the circle began to glow, the moon cycle, and protection sigils appeared around her.