I must be dreaming.

I knew I didn't belong here. My body felt foreign, like my limbs were extra heavy considering I had shrunk about two feet in height.

My strange body climbed out of the lake, the marring of a frown on my face as I approached my little sister. Her round face was flush with colour, frustration clear in the pout of her lips. Her arms were crossed, and I'd say she even stomped her foot.

The man, who I assumed was my father, wrapped a towelled robe around me, tying it at the front. I huffed, telling him I could do it. He stepped back, raising his arms in defence as I defiantly knotted the robe myself. He then took us both by the hand, his face still a blur, as he led us through the treeline.

"I will get it right next time!" I pouted.

"I'm sure you will." The man chuckled. "You are stronger than you think!"

"One day, I will be the bestest swimmer in the whole wide world."

"Bestest isn't a word," Arabella taunted.

I rolled my eyes at my younger sister. "Whatever, at least I can read!"

"I can read!"

"What, an entire book?" I scoffed. "I can write an entire book!"

"Hey, enough both of you. Let's just get home in one piece, yeah?"

I grumbled. "Whatever."

"Hey, enough sass." The man nudged me playfully. "Save that for me."

I giggled as his fingers ghosted my ribcage. Only for Arabella to pipe up she was missing out.

I forgot how annoying young Arabella was.

Looking around the forest, I found myself vaguely familiar with the surroundings. Although the trees were different to Evermore, somehow I knew where I was going. The grand oak and chestnut trees in Evermore were dull compared to these magnificent orange-red maples. Their leaves were luminous against the dulling sky, the air crisp and warm as we walked home.

I didn't have a moment to quell on how I knew the land before a grand house entered my eyeline. It was cute, the orange outer bricks blending with the autumn season. The man opened the door, and the crisp smell of bread washed over me.

"Oh, you're back."

I spun to the voice, my eyes widening at the gentle tone. My mother approached from around the kitchen table, wiping her hands on a tea towel. She locked her eyes on my father, a smile on her face as she embraced him. He patted her back, muttering a hello. I watched from beside them, my eyes wide as I took in my mother's features.

She looked completely different. Is this what she looked like before his death? Is this the mother I had growing up? One with freshly washed hair, makeup, and flowery perfume. One who wore dresses and baked bread in the day to pass the time.

The man I assumed was my father, released her to be remove his coat and boots, but I remained where I was. Her brown eyes landed on me, and that broad grin dropped into a frown.

"Take off your dirty shoes, child." She tutted.

I hesitated, blinking up at her before complying when her gaze narrowed. Something felt off. Something about her didn't feel right, and I wasn't sure what it was. Once my coat and shoes were gone, she snapped at me to help Arabella. I was quick to drop to my knees and unlace my sister's boots before aiding her with her coat zipper.

Putting everything away neatly, I spun around to face the two adults. Father had moved to the kitchen, making himself a warm cup of tea. Mother was still staring, her eyes locked onto me, her hands laced in the middle. I was frozen in my spot, waiting for my next command.

"Well, off to bathe. Get that lake filth out of my house."

Her house.

Of course.

I nodded, scurrying to the bathroom. There was a loud cry behind me and I paused in my step.

"Don't forget Arabella!" Mother shouted. "And wash her hair!"

Of course, that was my job, not hers. It was down to the eight-year-old child, not the fully grown adult.

I nodded, gesturing my smaller sibling along. Together we entered the bathroom as I ran the tub with warm, soapy water. I hated washing Arabella's hair. She always screamed like a brat. Were kids always this loud and annoying?

As I assumed, she wailed as I washed the shampoo from her hair; her flailing cause it to go into her eyes. I sighed, rinsing them thoroughly before deeming her clean and starting with myself. She played with a plastic boat as I cleaned my hair, listening to her make soft noises like a motor.

This bathroom is nice.

It was all white, with soft silver features in the tiles and décor. There was even a separate shower, and the tub was deep enough that grown me could lie down comfortably. The odd sense of security settled in my bones, despite me having no conscious recollection of where I was.

Childhood-me must know more than I realise.

What even was this dream?

Was it a dream? Or a memory?

Draining the tub, Arabella was compliant as she climbed out and grabbed both the towels. My lips curled into a smile as she handed me them and I helped to dry her off before sorting myself out.

"I need to poop!" she suddenly announced.

With a soft groan, I turned to the sink and brushed my teeth, completely ignoring the grunting toddler behind me. The toilet flush was a relief on my senses and I passed her the sparkly pink brush as she cleaned her teeth.

At least she could brush her own teeth!

"What do you want to wear tonight?" I asked softly as we entered her bedroom.

"A pink nightdress!" She announced, launching onto her bed.

I laughed at her, retrieving the pinkest one in her wardrobe. "You will not wet the bed, will you?"

She shook her head, pursing her lips. "No! I am a big girl!"

"That's right." I grinned.

Arabella dressed before launching under her duvet. I bid her a soft goodnight before flicking on her nightlight and leaving the room. Stood in just my towel, my feet padded softly down the hallway to the stairs. I stopped halfway down when my parents' voices carried across the lower floor. The shadows of night mostly shrouded me, and could hear them rather distinctively.

My mother seemed exasperated, her tone hissing as she spoke.

"What are we supposed to do there? How do you reckon we will even get in?"

"We will," my father deadpanned. "If we come to them for asylum, they should let us in."

"What if they don't? We will have nowhere to go! Once I leave this house..."

"My money will tie us over. We downplay how much you have and we will be okay. Trust me on this. I have done my research."

"I don't know... What..." Her voice distorted, and it felt like I was in a fishbowl before it cleared. "...seems risky."

"I need to get into that territory, Alison." My father huffed. "Being a family will be a great disguise."

"I know you do." She sighed before the dining chair creaked. "How will they cope?"

"Ailia is my daughter, and Arabella has accepted me as her father. All this time bonding wasn't for nothing. It has been a long few years, but it is worth it."

"But why now?"

"The beasts...information, Alison. This village has... for decades now. I need to implement myself into their community. I need to get close to the higher ups."

His voice kept distorting, and for a moment, my present self wondered if it was part of the 'magic' in my brain. Did young me know what my father was talking about? What was it for it to disappear?

"You will have to prove your worth." Mother stated.

"I have the power I need. I know somebody."

"The witch?" My mother hissed. "You cannot trust a witch."

My young self frowned; witches are bad.

"I have known her for years." My father shook his head. "She is not cruel."

"We are not a genuine family. What if they see through the cracks? They are not even sisters!"

I inhaled sharply, dread dragging me down into its depths. Younger me was hardly shocked, her fingers flexing on the banister of the stairs. However, I, dream Ailia, could not believe it was actually true. Father had said that Arabella had accepted him.

But I didn't know that Eris meant this.

Wait, did that mean...

Alison wasn't my mother?

All those years, and the woman that 'raised' me was not my blood.

"It will be okay, Alison." My father's hand rested on her shoulder. "We will leave in a week. She will handle our disappearance, create us fake papers to say we came from a pack who has been raided. It will all work out."

"You trust her? And the wolves?"

"With my life. It is my duty."

Alison sighed, nodding. "Okay. One week."

"Great. It will be okay," my father hummed. "She has many tricks up her sleeve. She is older than she looks. Arabella and Ailia won't even know. And when the time comes, we will get out of there."

"Won't that be suspicious?"

"Not if we time it right. The beasts hunt in the spring. We can use that to our advantage before fleeing."

"That's six months away. Are you sure we can accomplish it?"

"They will feel pity for us. It will be okay."

So, Evermore wasn't my home after all. It was a task.

"They better. I don't want this to backfire." Alison huffed.

"It won't. Trust me."

"I am only doing this because I owe you a debt." She grumbled.

My father sighed. "We are friends, are we not? The past few years have not just been business, have they?"

"I suppose not." Alison smirked. "I will go check on the girls."

"Give Ailia my love, too."

I rose from the stairs when she came toward them, scurrying into my room. I threw my towel on the floor, grabbing a nightgown from my drawers before diving into bed. My mo-Alison always went to Arabella's room first for a cuddle, before making sure I was behaving.

I heard the gentle creak of her door, before her soft, loving voice whispered praises to Arabella. My chest ached deeply, a longing I wasn't sure I recognised. I didn't like this woman, so why did my heart ache?

What was I missing?

Arabella's door shut before mine drifted open. Alison peered down at me from the doorframe, her hand curled around the handle.

"What are you doing?" She sneered.

"Nothing," I whispered.

No thanks for caring for Arabella, as usual.

"You better not. This is my house. You treat it with respect." She tutted, flickering her eyes around my room. "We will soon be a family, and all of this will just be a dream."

"It will?" I wondered.

Her lips curled into a wicked grin. "Oh, child, you do not know what's coming."

With the eery message, she shut the door softly, the metal handle clicking shut. I lay in the darkness of the barely decorated room, rolling to stare up at the ceiling.

I felt the emptiness of love, of care, and sighed sadly. I didn't like the haunting feeling her words left, a ghostly whisper taunting the corners of my mind.

Where was I?

What was happening?

Was that woman truly not my blood? Arabella not my sister?

Who was my father? Why could I not see his face? And who was the witch he spoke of so dearly?

We were not in Evermore, so what was happening? What was this grand plan they whispered about?

Where was I four or five years prior? Before we met Alison and Arabella? I would've been just a toddler, a young child, so where was I born?

Where was my birth mother?

Too many questions sent my mind into a deeper sleep, away from this world.

************

puzzle pieces everywhere