She woke, but her eyes stayed closed.
The cold air pressed against her skin, skin that didn't feel like her own. Her body was light, unfamiliar. A buzzing filled her mind, not painful, but loud with memory.
This isn't the river.
She lay still, listening. Then, a voice she hadn't heard in what felt like lifetimes echoed in her head.
"You look different now."
She knew that voice. Her father. Her mentor. Her shadow.
"How are you here?" she asked silently.
No words came from her mouth. Still, he responded, as if he heard her thoughts.
"I don't know. Maybe it's a miracle. Or maybe you're imagining me. Either way... here I am."
A pause. Then she asked again, the question heavy and trembling within her mind.
"But we both died, right? How am I in a different body?"
He chuckled softly, like he always did when she was confused."This is your new life now."
Pain surged through her skull. She clutched her head and let out a faint groan, eyes still closed.
To her right, a small figure shifted—then gasped.
She opened her eyes. A boy was sitting beside her bed, his head resting near her hand. Her groan must have woken him.
"You're awake!" he cried, and wrapped his arms around her.
She tensed and pushed him back with what little strength she had. He stumbled but smiled through his tears. "Brother is happy… you're alive."
She blinked at him. The words didn't fit. Brother? she thought.
He stepped back, his expression serious now. "How do you feel?"
She opened her mouth—but nothing came. No voice. No sound. She tried again.
Nothing.
She looked away, ashamed, confused. So many questions filled her mind, but none could pass her lips.
The boy stared in stunned silence, then turned and ran out of the room. Moments later, he returned with the old man from before-the one who walked with a cane.
The elder gently checked her pulse, her eyes, her temperature. He nodded softly.
"She is stable," he told the boy. "But… she cannot speak."
The boy's face crumpled. Tears slid down his cheeks as he fell to his knees beside her.
Mandara didn't know why it hurt to see him cry. She felt the tears swelling in her own eyes—but they didn't fall.
The old man placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Let her rest. She needs time. She has returned from far away."
Then he turned to Mandara. "Rest well. You will need your strength. Your brother is covering your duties."
Duties?
Before she could react, they both left the room.
She turned her head to the shadowed corner of the cave. Her father's figure stood there, arms folded.
"You always wanted to live a normal life," he whispered. "Let's see what that means now."
She closed her eyes and let herself drift.