Elara woke to find the void standing at the foot of her bed.
Not inside her. Outside. A figure of silver light, human-shaped, with grey eyes that mirrored her own. It had her father's stance, her mother's sharp chin, her own stubborn set to its jaw.
"You're dreaming," Elara said.
Am I?
"You're not real."
I am as real as you made me. You filled me with memories. With hopes. With a desire to be more than hunger.
"If you're real, prove it."
The figure reached out and touched her hand.
Its fingers were warm.
---
Elara sat up in bed.
The void was still inside her—she could feel it, warm and present. But something had changed. The barrier between them was thinner. More like a suggestion than a wall.
I want to speak, the void said. Not through dreams. Through words. Face to face.
"Th
