Besides the period marking the untimely passing of her mother, Elara would perhaps call the month that followed the worst of her life.
One-by-one, she saw similar changes take place in the people around her. The head maid, her reclusive uncle, the apprentice caretaker, and even her bedridden grandmother; it seemed that everyone in the estate had a day when they would awaken and express shock at the sight of her moving about, for some reason.
Most seemed overjoyed. Some, like Lana, would talk of having missed her, and of how glad they were she'd recovered. From what, Elara didn't know. Others seemed to want to tell her something – something they clearly deemed important. Unfortunately, and most frustratingly for Elara, none of them ever managed to convey whatever it was before their eyes dulled.
Then, each and every one of those people would simply smile, speak of mundane things, and fall back into the routine of their everyday lives. To them, the days returned to being ordinary.
And Elara would, once again, be left alone in her confusion.
Some days, Elara would slip out of the estate and roam the streets of Silvershade. She'd found that, as much as she loved the people around her, there had lately been times she wanted to be alone. The girl would gaze upon the familiar scenes and smiling faces, and wonder to herself whether she was going mad.
She must've been.
There was simply no other explanation for why she felt so awfully lost and conflicted in a world that kept moving on as normal, was there?
And in the strangest way, that, perhaps, might've been the most comforting explanation for all this. Or, at the very least, the easiest one to come to terms with. The most manageable.
Then, Elara would turn into the marketplace, look upon the traders and travelers who had set up stalls to peddle their wares, and sigh to herself as she silently took in the sight.
They were all familiar faces. The same ones she'd seen and made note of at some point in her childhood. They even sold the same goods she remembered.
Even here, far away from her house, there was nothing new.
There was nothing beyond what she already knew.
No... Something most definitely was wrong.
…
Then, one morning, it was her father who changed.
Sir Grif, who usually greeted her at the breakfast table, had inexplicably been asleep in an armchair by her bed.
'Huh? Father?' Elara had exclaimed when she first awoke, looking wide-eyed at the chair. She'd then taken a moment to rub the sleep out of her eyes, before looking that way again.
It really was her father, slumped against the backrest and snoring.
Why was he here?
…And why was there an armchair in her bedroom, at her bedside? She hadn't put that there!
'Father?' Elara had called out louder, and the large man had jolted awake. Straightening up, he'd turned to look at his daughter, and… just stared.
Elara had felt her heart skip a beat then.
No. Not him too.
Please, don't let him be strange too.
'What's… what's wrong, father?' she'd asked quietly.
The usually jolly man hadn't responded. He'd just continued staring at her, his eyes reddening and lips trembling as he did. Then, suddenly, the man had pulled her into a bear hug.
This wasn't strange to the girl. In private, her small family had never observed any strict etiquette or hierarchical distance. Her home environment had always been a loving and affectionate one.
However, Elara could feel Sir Grif's large frame trembling as he held her. Even though he hadn't been crying, it seemed to her he was barely holding himself back. Then, she'd realized he was mumbling something, almost as though to himself.
'It's fine. It's over... It's all fine! My child... It's all fine now. It's over. It's over. It's fine. You are here with me. I am here with you, so... We shall be fine now…'
This time, Elara hadn't bothered with asking anything of the man. She didn't question him. She didn't say a thing. She simply sat in a numb sort of silence, and waited.
And, sure enough, even her father's strangeness subsided.
The man had straightened up, fallen back into the armchair, laughingly said something about how he was glad her fever had subsided, and left after telling her she should still take her breakfast in bed.
That day, Elara hadn't left her room at all.
No matter how much she denied things in her heart, the girl had a small, but growing suspicion. She'd had it for a while now, even though she hadn't quite allowed herself to dwell on it.
After all, such a thing was so rare. So improbable.
...No. There was no chance, was there?
Surely not!
Something would change! Something would most certainly change, and prove to her that her worries were all unfounded.
...
And then, in the days that followed, something did change.
While strolling near the entrance of Silvershade, Elara suddenly spotted an unfamiliar face.
A sense of elation filling her heart, the girl had raced over to the man – position and politeness be damned!
'May I… May I ask who you are, sir?' she'd asked, somewhat out of breath. Her heart was thudding so hard, she almost felt as thought it would burst out of her chest.
The man, somewhat taken aback, had still smiled politely, and introduced himself as a friend of a certain sir Veylor, an erstwhile resident of Silvershade who'd apparently spent much of the past decade working in some distant city.
Someone new! Something different!
Something did change, after all!
Elara could've jumped for joy.