The Ghost of a Home
1394 Words
Aria’s POV
The first thing I noticed wasn't the light, but the air.
At the Vaelor estate, the air always tasted of cold stone, expensive floor wax, and the heavy scent of Alphas. But the air here was sweet. It carried the scent of crushed pine needles, damp earth, and the wild, peppery bloom of mountain lilies. It was the smell of home.
I sat up, the grass beneath my palms soft and cool. I wasn't wearing the stiff, silk gown from the dinner, I was in my old linen tunic, the fabric worn thin and soft from a hundred washings in the creek.
I felt light. I felt hollow in the way a bird must feel before it takes flight.
"Aria! You’ve been napping for an hour. The sun will be over the ridge before we even start the harvest."
The voice was a melody I thought had been silenced forever by the roar of flames and the screams of the dying.
I turned my head slowly, terrified that even a sharp movement would shatter the world around me. Standing a few yards away, kneeling in a patch of wild clover, was Maeve.
But it wasn't the Maeve I had seen at the estate, the hollow-eyed, trembling shadow of a girl. This Maeve was radiant. Her skin was tanned from the sun, her hair was braided with wildflowers, and her eyes were bright with a mischievous, healthy spark. She looked exactly as she had the day before the world ended.
"Maeve?" I whispered, my voice sounding strange to my own ears. It was younger, untainted by the gravel of grief.
"Who else?" she laughed, tossing a handful of clover toward me. "Stop daydreaming. My mother wants these herbs dried and bundled by nightfall, and you know how she gets when the winter stores aren't ready."
I stood up, my legs feeling steady and strong. I walked toward her, my bare feet sinking into the familiar soil. I reached out, my fingers trembling, and touched her shoulder. She felt solid. Warm. Real.
"Is this... are we really here?" I asked, a sob catching in my throat.
Maeve frowned, though her eyes remained kind.
"Where else would we be, silly? Honestly, Aria, you’ve been acting strange since we got to the meadow. Did you have a bad dream?"
I looked around the village. The small, thatched-roof huts were nestled in the valley, smoke rising lazily from the chimneys. I could hear the distant sound of children playing by the well and the rhythmic thwack of someone chopping wood. No fire. No blood. No silver-clad soldiers or Vaelor Alphas.
"Yes," I breathed, tears finally spilling over. "A terrible dream. There were monsters in suits, and a house made of glass, and a mark on my neck that burned like fire..."
Maeve stood up and pulled me into a hug. She smelled of sunshine and laundry soap. "It was just a dream, Aria. Look at you. You’re safe. We’re all safe. There are no marks here. Only the mountains."
I let myself sink into her. I let the peace wash over me, drowning out the memories of Noah’s desperate eyes and Cassian's rage. For the first time in an eternity, I let my guard down.
The day passed in a golden blur. We wandered through the woods, our baskets filling with lavender and sage. We talked about things that didn't matter, which boy in the village was the most clumsy, what we would wear to the Midsummer festival, how we would one day travel to the sea just to see if the water was truly as salty as the elders claimed.
It was the life I had been robbed of. It was the peace I had prayed for every night while trapped in the estate.
But as the sun began to dip behind the peaks, painting the sky in bruises of purple and gold, something happened.
We were standing by the creek, the water bubbling over smooth stones. I reached down to pick a lone white lily growing near the bank. As my fingers brushed the petal, a drop of bright, crimson blood bloomed in the center of the flower. It spread rapidly, staining the white silk of the petal until it looked like a wound.
I recoiled, my heart skipping a beat. "Maeve, look."
Maeve didn't look. She was staring at the horizon, her smile fixed and unmoving. "The sunset is beautiful today, isn't it?"
"The flower," I pointed, my voice rising. "It’s bleeding."
"It’s just the light, Aria," Maeve said, her voice sounding slightly distorted, as if she were speaking from the bottom of a well. "The sun plays tricks on the eyes. Stay here. Don't look at the shadows."
I looked down at the water. The reflection of the trees was shimmering, but the reflection of my own face was wrong. My eyes were sunken, my skin pale, and around my neck, the Mark was glowing.
“Aria... can you hear me?”
The voice didn't come from the village. It came from the sky, a deep rumble that shook the ground beneath my feet. It was a voice I knew in my marrow.
Noah.
"Did you hear that?" I asked, spinning around.
"Hear what?" Maeve asked. She moved closer to me, her grip on my arm tightened. Her fingers felt cold now. "There’s nothing but the wind, Aria. Stay with me. We have to get home before dark."
"Noah?" I called out to the empty air. "Noah, is that you?"
“Aria, fight it. Don't let go... please...”
The sky cracked. For a split second, the blue vanished, replaced by a glimpse of a sterile white room and the silhouette of a man bent over a bed, his head in his hands. It was only a flash, but it was enough.
"I have to go," I said, trying to pull my arm away from Maeve.
"Go where?" Maeve’s voice was no longer melodic. It was sharp, desperate. "Back to the pain? Back to the people who sold you? They don't love you, Aria. They only love the power on your skin. Here, you’re just Aria. Here, you’re happy."
"Stay with me," she pleaded, her eyes filling with dark, oily tears. "If you leave, I’ll be alone again. We can stay here forever. No one can find us here. Not the North, not the Luna... not the brothers."
"This isn't real, Maeve," I said, my own tears blurring my vision. "You’re in the estate. You’re in the medical wing. And I’m... I’m dying, aren't I?"
The ground groaned. A violent tremor threw me to my knees. The scent of pine was being swallowed by the smell of ozone and chemicals.
"It doesn't matter if it’s real!" Maeve screamed, her voice echoing with force. "It’s better than the truth! Don't wake up! If you wake up, the fire comes back! The hunger comes back!"
I looked at her, this version of her that was trying so hard to keep me anchored in a ghost of a home. I wanted to stay. God, I wanted to stay so badly. I wanted to forget the contracts, the lies, and the light burning into my neck.
But then, I heard it again. A different voice this time.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise.”
Cassian.
The memory of his kiss, the desperation of it, the need pierced through the dream like a needle.
"I can't stay," I whispered.
The village began to dissolve into ash. The sky turned to ink. Maeve reached for me one last time, her fingers turning to smoke as she touched my chest.
"You'll regret it," she hissed, her voice fading into the wind. "The truth is a much crueler cage than this."
I closed my eyes as the world fell away. The warmth of the sun vanished, replaced by a chill. The smell of pine was gone.
And then, the pain returned. I wasn't home. I was exactly where I was meant to be.
In the wreckage.
- Writer
