The Mother She Never Knew
The captain led Elara to another door.
The name on it was familiar.
Eleanor Vance.
Her mother.
“Behind this door is your mother,” the captain said. “She has been here longer than your father. She has changed more.”
“Open it.”
The captain stepped aside.
“Only you can.”
Elara opened the door.
The room was different from her father’s. Larger. Brighter. The walls were covered in drawings — ships and stars and waves. The window looked out onto the sea, the real sea, blue and bright and full of light.
And standing at the window, waiting for her, was a woman.
She was young — younger than Elara remembered, younger than her mother should have been. Her hair was dark, her eyes were silver, her face was calm.
“Hello, Elara,” she said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Mom?”
The woman turned.
Her silver eyes were wet.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Elara walked to her.
“Why did you leave?”
Her mother was silent for a long moment.
“I didn’t leave. I was taken. Just like your father. Just like the others.”
“Why didn’t you come back?”
Her mother looked at the window.
At the sea.
At the light.
“Because I couldn’t. The ship wouldn’t let me.”
Elara grabbed her hands.
“There has to be a way out.”
Her mother shook her head.
“There is no way out. Not for me. Not for your father. Not for the thousands of others who are trapped here.”
“But for me?”
Her mother was silent for a long moment.
“For you, there is a way. But it requires a sacrifice.”
“What sacrifice?”
Her mother looked at the door.
At the captain.
At the darkness.
“Your freedom. Your life. Your soul.”
Elara’s heart stopped.
“You want me to stay?”
“I want you to save us. The captain says you are the key. The key to unlocking the prison. The key to ending the voyage. The key to setting us all free.”
“How?”
Her mother took her hands.
“You become the captain.”