Elara still hadn't given up. That very evening, she'd pulled her father into a meeting.
'And what might it be that is troubling you so, child?' Sir Grif had asked, settling his large frame into his armchair. Elara hadn't accepted his invitation to take the seat before him.
Halting her worried pacing to stop right next to the man, she'd said, 'You must remember, father.'
Sir Grif had raised his eyebrows at her words. '…Remember what? I – I don't think I've forgotten an important anniversary… have I? But I wouldn't! I – '
'Not anything of the sort!' Elara had interrupted him. 'Father, please. Think. Think back to the day you awoke on that armchair, in my room.'
'Oh. Were you that troubled by it? I apologize, Elara. It's just because your illness had taken a turn for the worse that night, and I couldn't bear to trouble little Lana, or anyone else, with keeping watch over you. I sometimes forget that you're a young lady now, who doesn't want her old father – '
'Father, no! That is not what I'm saying at all! Please, think. You have never had to do such a thing before. Besides, I hadn't even been suffering from an illness at the time!' Elara had paused to take a deep breath; she didn't want to lose hold of her emotions and devolve into nonsensical shouting again. 'So, please. You must try to remember why – why – you were there. What are you forgetting?'
Sir Grif had just looked at her askance. 'Child I… I'm afraid I don't understand what you are saying,' he'd said.
Sighing, Elara had finally slumped down into the armchair in front of the man.
'Father, my talent. This… none of this is real. This is all – we are all – trapped in a dream,' she'd said through clenched teeth.
The room had fallen silent at this revelation. Then,
'Ah! Ahaha! Oh, Elara, hahaha!' her father had doubled over where he sat, gasping for breath. 'Oh, dear! What mischief are you cooking, girl?'
'I do not say this in jest!' Elara had exclaimed. 'Father, I – I have proof! We are all trapped in a – a dream. In my dream! We shall die if nothing is done about this!'
Still laughing, Sir Grif had shaken his head. 'Then, tell me, child. Why have you trapped us all in your dream? And, pray tell, how your dreamweaving talent has evolved to the point of affecting us… all? Are you implying that everyone in the estate is trapped within this… dream?'
Elara had taken in a deep breath once again. Her father gave little weight to her words.
'Not everyone in the estate,' she'd said quietly.
'No? Then – '
'Everyone in Silvershade.'
At that, a single tear had escaped her eye to slip down her cheek.
Sir Grif had straightened up immediately at the sight. 'Child. Elara. What is the matter with you. I cannot understand what is distressing you so. Please, you must tell me – '
'I am! I am telling you, father. You are not listening!'
Silence, again. Then,
Sighing, Sir Grif had leaned forward to take her hands in his own. 'I shall. I promise. So, tell me, Elara. Why do you believe that you've affected everyone in Silvershade? What do you believe has happened in the real world, that led to this event?'
'I…' Elara had furrowed her brows. 'I don't remember why, but I've had this feeling… I've had this feeling for a long time, ever since… Oh…'
'Speak, Elara.'
Tears spilling from her eyes again, Elara had looked up to meet her father's kind eyes.
'Ever – ever since mo-mother died, I – I – '
'Oh, dear!' shutting his eyes for a moment, her father had tightened his grip on her hand for a moment. 'I see… I'm so sorry, my child. I see now…'
'Wh - what?' Still sobbing, Elara had said, 'So… you believe me, then?'
'I… understand that you have been very strong these past few years, my daughter. I have failed Elina, and failed as your father, for not realizing how much you've been hurting all along. You've always used your dreamweaving and dreamwalking to help people. I just never realized – '
'My – my mind is not troubled, father!' the girl had shrieked. Throwing off his hands, she'd jumped to her feet. 'I am not making this up! I must've… I must've lost control… Oh, no. I have suffered a distortion. A distortion! I – '
'Stop! Quiet!'
And Elara had indeed stopped speaking, staring at her father in shock.
The man had never raised his voice at her before.
'Father, I –'
'No, Elara. You shall speak of no such thing. There is no such thing. You are fine. We are fine.'
Sir Grif was also frowning now, kneading his forehead with his knuckles. It looked like he was in physical pain, all of a sudden.
'Father, it was only me that was asleep at first,' Elara had started again, speaking quickly now. She had to make the man listen. 'You, everyone around me – were simply a creation of my mind. But, over time, I have been drawing people in. I have – oh no! How many of you have already died, locked in my consciousness!? If – if it's been a month already –' Gasping for breath, Elara hadn't been able to complete her sentence.
The more she thought, the more it felt as though her heart was sinking in her chest.
This time of the year, there wouldn't be too many outsiders or traders showing up in Silvershade – not until a few months later.
If – if indeed, everyone had finally been pulled into her dream at this time, and there were no outsiders to bear witness, wouldn't they all – wouldn't they all already be - ?
'Elara!' Sir Grif had cried out again. 'Child, please. Stop this. Why must you worry your heart with such things. It is already weakened… it…'
'But don't you see?' Despite her tears, Elara had laughed. 'You, Lana, all of you, keep speaking of an illness. Of a weakened heart. Of – of – I don't even know what else! But I've always been healthy as a child. I've never suffered any afflictions to warrant such worry. So, aren't you, perhaps, thinking of whatever it is that has happened in the real –'
'Stop.' Sir Grif had also pushed himself to his feet then. 'Stop, Elara. I shall hear no further discussion on such – such asinine things. I refuse it!'
'But father - !'
'No, child. If there is a day when I awaken with the memory of having lost myself in a dream, then, I shall apologize for not believing you. But until such a day arrives, I refuse to entertain talk of such things any further. I have had enough of you!'
And with that, her father had ended their conversation, and left the room.
And, of course, there was nothing Elara could do to change his mind.
Not since he'd already forgotten all about this conversation by the following morning, when she'd next chosen to confront him.
There was nothing she could do.
Everyone would die…
Everyone would die, and it would all be her fault.