The world was heavy, like her body had been wrapped in iron chains, pressing her into darkness. Her breath was shallow, each inhale scraping her chest like broken glass.
Somewhere, far away, faint voices murmured—anxious, tender, like waves rolling against a distant shore. She recognized those voices.
Natasha… Mira… they must be worried sick about her.
But her thoughts only echoed through the void.
She was no longer in her bed. No fever, no sweat clinging to her skin. Instead, she stood in a dark empty space, boundless and weightless.
Where is this place?
The last thing she remembered is losing consciousness in the marketplace.
A mirror of water stretched before my feet, smooth as glass, its surface shimmering faintly as though it breathed with her. she bent forward and peered into the reflection. Her face should have stared back at her, but it was hazy. She can't make sense of what she looked like.
