There are other worlds than this one. Elliana believe she has known this since the beginning, but has never truly thought about it, just because they so rarely intersect. Though sometimes, things interfere, sometimes, doors open. And those that walk through those doors, they whisper to her, sing, cry, laugh.
Elliana is more sensitive than most, and when others hear the creek of the door opening they believe it to be nothing more than the wind. But Elliana tucks those covers up tighter around her, knowing those who were supposed to stay on the other side have come to speak to her. And visions of the bent-neck lady fill her blue eyes, and she will one day have to fight too, the urge to walk through the door that creeks and swings open, inviting her in.
Elli is nothing but bright blue eyes as she stands in the field, easy smile on her face. It is cold, but Elliana has known little else in her life. She knows snow, chilled breezes, and icicles staring precariously at her with cold eyes. She walks through the landscape, carefree, fearless, because she has no reason to be afraid, she goes from Terrastella to Denocte, from one pair of watchful eyes to the next. She has friends, her mother, her father, Nic, her companion, ever present on her shoulders, hands buried in her growing mane. She has no reason to hesitate—not in the day time—not when it is quiet. She darts in and out of shadows because she thinks she loves them just as she does the sun, but one day she will fear them—and one day still, she will come to love them all over again.
Elliana.
The name graces over her ears like the wind across the long grass of the fields. “What do you have?” She asks, quickly bounding over with childish laughter decorating her lips as Jack jumps from her shoulders, excitement making her step far too bouncy for his liking. Her response is light and airy as it is followed by her smile, full and bright. She tries to peek around to see what Nic could possibly have for her. “Is it a new toy?” She asks curiously. If anyone would bring her a toy, it would be Nic. She was perhaps the most fun character of Elliana’s life, she enjoyed her stories, watching her train—painting her. Nic perhaps made the most beautiful subject on canvas. “Nic,” she pleads like a child—because it is so easy to forget she is one.
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