Chapter Five: The Awakening

Something seemed amiss.

I blinked twice, then again, slowly. The pain in the back of my eyes burned, yet it was subdued—muted. The world wasn't black. It was something else. Liquid light nudged the edges of my vision, like the first hint of day through mist.

"Elara?" There came a voice through the mist. Filling. Warm.

I shifted my head slightly, and the motion had the sensation of pulling my skull through sandpaper.

"Elara, do you hear me?" The voice came closer—Dr. Knox.

I had a dry mouth, though I could muster a rasp. "I can hear you."

A sigh of relief. "Well. That's fine. You certainly scared us enough with your post-op experience."

"Did. did it work?" My voice cracked, though I barely noticed. My fingertips hurt on the rough surface of the hospital bed.

There existed a pause. I could feel it before she went on.

You tell me.

I wrenched them open as far as I could. Light blinded me: searing, brilliant, intruding, yes. Light. No dark outlines dancing in the dark. No hues. Burning, real light.

I drew back and reflexively tried to shield my eyes. "It is too bright."

"That's normal," Dr. Knox said gently. "Your eyes have been inactive for years. We will train your eyes step by step."

"I can. see." My heart beat faster.

"To some degree," she confirmed. "The operation went well. You're seeing vague outlines, aren't you?"

I blinked again. There was someone beside me—a dark-haired individual with their hair pulled back in a bun. White coat.

"Is that you?" I whispered.

She came into the light, her face blurry, but no longer formless. "I'm Elara,"

A weak laugh escaped my chest. It tingled through the air like shattered glass. "I can see you. God… I can actually see you."

She placed her hand in mine. "Well done."

"I—." I tried sitting up, and instantly regretted doing so. My head whirled about, and I groaned.

Careful," she steadied me. "You will have to adapt. The routes from your eyes to your brain must rewire."

I nodded, but tears began welling in the corners of my eyes. Not from hurt. From something inside.

Relief. Amazement. G

Evolutioned into something entire.

"How long will last?" I asked. "Don't beat about the bush."

She hesitated. "The thing is. the operation is not proven. You could have full function for several years, or it could fail within a few months."

I swallowed. "So, then, maybe this is not permanent."

"No. It is yours for the moment," she gasped.

I did not respond. Not right away. I couldn't. My chest tightened.

"Elara," she went on, "I realize it's much to take in. But you have endured the worst of it. Just take some time."

"I don't need time," I muttered. "I need a mirror."

She blinked. "What?"

A mirror," I insisted once more, louder. "Please."

She looked at me for a moment, weighing the emotional repercussions of what she was about to authorize. Then she went over to the cabinet and retrieved something.

She extended it toward me. The small mirror. Silver. I took it from her with shaking hands.

"Go slowly," she warned.

I nodded, holding the mirror in front of my own face.

What I witnessed took my breath away.

My eyes, clear again, were wide with tears. My hair fell in loose coils, flat against the sides. I had a healed bruise on the cheekbone. My lips were dry and chapped, skin pale. I had an appearance of tiredness.

But I did not go.

Opposite me stood the reflection of myself—a stranger, survivor.

I raised my hand and brought it over my features, tracing the curves I'd learned from touch. They matched now. Form and memory finally coincided.

"Have I been standing here the whole time?" I gasped.

"More lovely than you had thought," Dr. Knox said softly.

I let out a shaken laugh. "Landon used to say that, too. but he said so many things."

Her mood shifted, but she did not speak.

I continued searching.

I had a scar under my right eyebrow, faintly discernible. From the bathroom bathroom counter. I reached out with my fingers and could feel the anger surging through me once again. The betrayal. The words I remembered.

You're just a burden. you will not succeed in anything without me.

"Oh, I will," I told the girl in the mirror. "And from then on, you will no longer need him."

"Elara," said Dr. Knox cautiously, "what are you thinking?"

I smiled in her direction, facing her. It wasn't soft or grateful. It was intentional. Sharp.

"I think Landon should find out what happens when he underestimates the girl he deemed blind."

Dr. Knox raised an eyebrow. "And what would that be?"

I felt relieved when she wasn't inquisitive about anything else, although I did wonder whether she stood with me or not. She was, of course, a doctor, selected by him.

I glanced in the mirror once again, wiping the corner of my eye with the blanket. "It will be like regret. Wearing heels, silk dress, and a new name."

The door suddenly swung open, and a nurse peered inside.

"Dr. Knox," she told me, looking over at me, "he's on the phone again. Still asking for updates."

Dr. Knox tightened his jaw. "Inform him she remains in the coma. No update unless I decide otherwise."

The nurse nodded, and then departed.

I tilted my head. "He?"

Knox's attention shifted back to me. "Landon."

I smiled weakly at her, grateful. It was comforting to have her in my corner.