The Grandmother’s Return
The white light was cold.
Not the cold of winter. Not the cold of space. A deeper cold. An older cold. The cold of the void between stars. The cold of the silence before the song.
Mira stood in the center of it, her hands empty, her heart pounding, her breath shallow.
Her grandmother stood before her.
She was different now. Younger. Her white hair had darkened to silver. Her wrinkled face had smoothed. Her pale eyes had brightened.
She looked like she had in the beginning.
Before the door.
Before the song.
Before the hunger.
“Hello, Mira,” she said again. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“You’re not real.”
“I’m as real as your hope. As real as your love. As real as your dreams.”
“You died. You became the door. You became the song.”
Her grandmother smiled.
It was a real smile, warm and bright and full of love.
“I became the door. I became the song. I became the hunger. And now I am becoming something else.”
“What?”
She stepped closer.
Her bare feet made no sound.
“Free.”
Mira’s eyes filled with tears.
“Free?”
“The door is opening. The song is ending. The hunger is fading. Your sister is the key.”
“My sister?”
Elara stepped out of the light.
Her silver eyes were bright.
“I am the key. The second dreamer. The one who came after. The one who tried to close the door.”
“You’re not my sister.”
Elara shook her head.
“Not by blood. By song. By hunger. By fate.”
Mira looked at her grandmother.
“Why did you call us here?”
The first dreamer looked at the light.
At the white cold.
At the silence.
“Because the door is closing. The song is ending. The hunger is fading. I wanted to say goodbye.”
“Goodbye?”
“I have been here too long. I have been waiting too long. I have been hungry too long. It is time for me to rest.”
“What happens to the door?”
The first dreamer looked at Elara.
“Your sister will become the door. She will hold the song. She will feed the hunger.”
“That will kill her.”
The first dreamer nodded.
“Yes.”
“You’re asking her to die.”
“I’m asking her to live. Forever. In the door. In the song. In the hearts of the sleepers.”
Elara stepped forward.
“I accept.”
Mira grabbed her arm.
“No.”
“It is my choice.”
“It is your death.”
“It is my purpose.”
The white light blazed.
The door opened.
The song returned.
Mira watched as her sister walked into the light.
As the door closed.
As the song faded.
As the silence returned.
And her grandmother was gone.
Mira opened her eyes.
She was in the medical bay.
Elara was beside her.
Her silver eyes were dim.
“Did it work?” Mira asked.
Elara nodded.
“The door is closed. The song is silent. The hunger is sleeping.”
“And you?”
Elara looked at her hands.
They were warm.
“I am free.”