It was yet another shocking wake up, as I was stirred from my uneasy slumber by panicked shouts. I felt someone grabbing my shoulders, and I blearily opened my eyes, to see a frantic looking girl staring down at me. Before I gained my senses enough to comprehend what was going on, I already felt guilt and anxiety twisting in my gut at the sight of those features, that I recognized yet did not know.
"Mela! Mela, are you alright?"
The girl paused short of shaking me when she saw me open my eyes, but she still kept a tight grip as she stared at me with worry. It took me a good couple of seconds to wake up enough to remember what had happened, and to understand that she must have been calling by name for the girl that should have been there instead of me.
Noting the similarity in her features to the ones that I'd seen in the mirror, I then thought that she had to be the sister of this Mela, my great-granddaughter. My very next thought contradicted that, saying that that meager deduction had to be a rationalization for how I had immediately recognized her without knowing why. Nonetheless, I was quite certain that she was Mela's sister.
"I'm sorry."
The trembling whisper of an apology slipped out of my mouth before I could comprehend the reason for it. I was surprised when my eyes began misting over, having expected there would be no more tears left. I was too out of it to react in any way when she suddenly pulled me up, sitting down on the bed next to me, as she hugged me tightly and rested my head on her shoulder. In the end it only occurred to me to hug her back, as tears started flooding down to wet the fabric on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!"
The storm of emotions that burst forth was only more bewildering for the fact that I couldn't begin to comprehend it. But the strength of those emotion were not lessened by my lack of understanding, and I felt it all just as intensely as Mela would have. I could only keep apologizing over and over again, in a voice that I only knew from a fleeting memory. That voice grew hoarse when my tears didn't stop, and it was the best that I could do to stop myself from bawling out loud like a child.
The origin of all of these wilds emotions that Mela had held towards her sister, and why they burst forth at this moment were mysteries to me, but I was already beginning to rationalize all of it. Those feelings were already as good as mine then – the guilt that I felt for being there in the place of this girl's sister, the anxiety that I felt towards the thought of telling her what had happened, the certainty that I had done something that could never be forgiven. There was also a shared grief towards the loss that she did not yet know of, and the fierce love that I felt towards this compassionate person that held me and let me cry without saying a word, alongside all the other emotions that I couldn't even start to sort out as my heaving sobs finally came to a struggling halt.
"Come on, let's get you washed up – careful, don't step on the glass."
After I had calmed down enough, she got off the bed and stood up, offering me a hand. Hearing her coaxing words, spoken calmly and with kindness, like to a child, I followed her with almost mechanical obedience. My mind numb, I took her hand and allowed her to pull me on my feet, only focusing my attention on gingerly stepping between the scattered shards of the mirror. In my absentminded state I was relieved to notice that she hadn't stepped on any of them either.
She looked at me like she wanted to ask a thousand questions, yet like she was fearful of hearing the answers. Instead she led me, by hand, towards a door on the other side of the room. Some part of my mind, that still managed to maintain rationality, noted that she had to be the older of the sisters. Despite how panicked she had been at first, it was clear that she was used to being the level-headed one and took naturally to guiding me. It never occurred to me to resist, even as some part of me recoiled with guilt at this sympathetic treatment. I had to wonder whether it wasn't more of Mela's habits that took over at that moment.
Entering a bathroom with just enough room for the two of us among the assorted, attendant amenities, she promptly had both of us undressed and I found myself sat on a low stool and staring at a tiled, mostly white, wall. From the corner of my eye I could see her fiddling with a faucet to start filling the bathtub, but I only started to wake up from my daze when I was sprayed by water from above. My following thoughts were of confusion at this unfamiliar amenity, attempts to estimate what sort of infrastructure was required for so much warm water to be available at will, and questions about how much magic was involved and in which parts.
It was only when I was sat in a comfortably warm bath, the girl was finishing washing herself with the other contraption, that I finally opened my mouth again to speak. I then promptly closed it again, after hearing how shaky my voice had sounded, and took a deep breath before I forced myself to try again.
"I'm not her. I'm not Mela."
I didn't look at her. I didn't dare to. But from the corner of my eye I saw her tense up at my words, staying completely still for a few long seconds. Then she slowly exhaled, forcing herself to relax. Then she simply gave a vague sound of acknowledgement, which I could only take to be my cue to continue, and kept on with what she was doing.
"My name is Tannel."
That one got me a sharp look. I didn't say anything more, as she stood up from the stool and started to clamber into the bathtub. I instinctively drew in my legs and hugged them, as she sat down opposite to me. There was barely enough room in the tub for the both of us, and it felt like there was no longer any way for me to avoid her gaze as she looked straight at me. She frowned as she responded finally, but it seemed she was more confused than disbelieving.
"That is our family's name. I'm Celine Tannel."
"I – I assume Mary took on my name. She called me father. Mela, she called me great-grandfather – and founder. And I think is the one who brought me back."
I wasn't surprised by the name. But the words still didn't come easily, even as it was obviously too late to back out now. I was struck by yet another pang of guilt, as if I was our family connection to justify things somehow, even as my intent was to simply explain the situation as best I understood it. Celine seemed to take it much better than I had expected. She looked skeptical, and who wouldn't be, but she didn't do anything to contradict my words when she answered.
"You shouldn't talk about this to anyone else. Not even family, until you've talked with grandmother. For that matter, you need to be careful about how you interact with anyone but me, from now on, sister."
That last word struck me like a punch straight to the gut. I understood well enough her implication. I'd already lived my last miserable years with no way to know who to trust. My first instinct was to question if I should trust Celine either, but at the same time I felt like I simply had no right to distrust her. I knew that her calling me sister wasn't a show of acceptance, her tone far too impersonal for that, but a reminder of who I would have to act the part of now. I was struggling to understand how she kept so calm, even if only outwardly, after what I had just told her. I couldn't help but ask.
"Did you anticipate something like this?"
"I'm guessing Mela called me over because of this. The way she cut off the call was already strange, and what I saw here didn't help. But she must have wanted me to get you situated. It's not the first time she's done something incomprehensible."
She believed that I wasn't Mela, and seemingly even that it was her choice that I was there in her place, but it appeared she would reserve judgement in regards to the claim of my identity. Maybe she was going to leave it to her grandmother to verify. I honestly didn't even want to think about it, about telling Mary what had happened to one of her grandchildren. It made me happy that she had remembered me by taking on my name, but surely any warm feelings she might have had left towards me from the mere months we spent together would be nothing compared to the life of her own granddaughter. Still, just knowing that Mary was alive – and well, I hoped – helped me calm down and orient myself a little.
It did not help my self-loathing disposition to realize that Mela had been an undisputable genius when it came to magic. It sunk in when I looked around her room with awake and aware eyes for the first time, seeing the remnants of the magic array that she had built in this small space. Of course the very fact that she had somehow managed to bring me back was alone enough to make the claim, but the fact that she had seemingly performed the spell and come up with the method, which I still couldn't even begin to guess at, all alone was simply astonishing. Some of the mechanical tools that she had used I could recognize my touch on – I was after all a pioneer in the field in my time – but there were many others that I couldn't even recognize the use of.
Celine seemed willing to believe that her sister had managed it. I had a hard time reading her, but it was clear that she believed very strongly in her sister's abilities. I already could feel just how close the two of them had been, from the emotions that were still roiling within me, albeit at a low ebb as I laid down to on the bed again. Celine had surprisingly told me to just get some rest as she cleaned up the broken mirror. As I was quickly sinking back to an exhausted sleep, I could only anxiously wonder if my supposed genius was even a remotely equivalent exchange for the loss of such a bright young talent. What kind of a legacy had I left behind that made a young girl feel the need to sacrifice herself to bring me back?
The streak continued, I humorously noted to myself when I recovered from the surprise of waking up with Celine's arms wrapped around me. Humor, that was probably a good sign. I was feeling a lot more clearheaded after what must have been a fairly lengthy and uninterrupted bout of sleep. Able to examine my previous actions with a bit more clarity, I could only wryly conclude that I hadn't been such a crybaby previously, and that I shouldn't blame Celine if she didn't believe that that emotionally distraught child was her family's respected founder.
Nonetheless, I was at a bit of a loss, seeing that she'd really fallen asleep whilst hugging me, with only her underthings on – which I realized, if a little belatedly, was also true of me. Maybe it was the habit of an older sibling, but it did not seem that she was showing any caution towards the person that she knew wasn't actually her sister. Maybe it had just been too late for her to leave when she'd finished cleaning – there was no window in the room, nor could I see any timekeeping instrument – and the bed admittedly may have been too small for two people to sleep in, unless they were snuggled up in such a manner. My effort to carefully extricate myself ended in failure, as Celine woke up with a yawn, and then gave me a quizzical look.
"Morning, Mela."
She even smiled then, which left me a little stupefied. She then got up, and proceeded to start doing streches. As she was moving her body and wearing only her underthings, I could see that she had quite defined shapes, and it was clear to me, with a single glance downwards, that Celine was the more athletic of the two sisters. Seeing her act so non-chalant, even peppy, I understood, with perhaps a little help from the subconscious I'd inherited from Mela, that she'd decided to take on the role of helping me adjust genuinely – including reminding me of what name I would be referred to henceforth. She then turned back to me, as I was still lost in my musings.
"It's about time you get up. You'll have to get ready for school."
"School?"
I could only ask, feeling that the word had come totally out of nowhere. I didn't stop her when she started pulling me towards the bathroom though, even as it occurred to me too feel a little awkward about it this time. I had previously been too preoccupied with bigger issues to worry about washing with – and as – a girl. I couldn't tell if it even occurred to Celine that I had been male, until however many hours ago I woke up in Mela's body – or, perhaps more accurately, until however long it had been since that male body had ceased to function.
"You are a student at Altrel Academy. You'll probably have classes six days of the week, and you won't be skipping. Especially since this dormitory is where you'll be living for the foreseeable future."
It was a lot of information to take in. She seemed to be filling me in on Mela's daily life, which was reasonable enough, as I shouldn't do anything to diverge from her usual habits. Finding out that the room, with all of luxurious amenities in the bathroom, was in a dormitory took me by surprise, but it was admittedly a little on the small side.
And Altrel? I hadn't expected to ever be back there. It made sense though, as it hardly made sense for her to have been studying anywhere other than the premier institution on the study of magic in all its forms. And I recalled that Mela had hidden her notes in an academy, which meant that I would have to go there anyway.
Somewhere in the midst of such musings I lost my chance to question whether another bath was necessary already – not that Celine seemed to have any doubts about the matter.
interesting.
An interesting concept so far, with the quality of the writing i hope you get many more views.
Thanks! And I do hope so as well, if only so that I'll actually feel some pressure to keep writing. The story is starting to shape up surprisingly well in my head, and whilst that means that it's swiftly getting out of hand in terms of scope, at least there should also be enough material to keep going.