Ophelia sat before the piano in her burnt-down house, one of the few things the fire hadn't completely devoured. It was a miracle it had survived. It was a miracle she had survived.
Whenever she thought back to the night she lost her family, a hazy fog clouded her mind. She could barely remember anything, not so much as who had rescued her. All she remembered was crying, engulfed in smoke one moment and waking up the next on Pearl's bed.
Dissociative amnesia would best describe her memories of that day. After the incident, Ophelia had trouble coming back here for a very long time. She hadn't seen the ruins of her house in years but one day, Mrs. Rose asked Ophelia to follow her here and she couldn't refuse.
She wanted to tell her that this was her house, that seeing it brought her pain, but there was something about Mrs. Rose that Ophelia just couldn't say no to. She couldn't put out the light in her eyes and turn the moment into a sad and awkward one. She couldn't watch as Mrs. Rose tried to change the subject to make her feel comfortable again, so instead, she smiled through the pain and said yes.
Once she was back in her old house again, Ophelia understood why she avoided it. It was too painful, everywhere had a memory embedded in it. The rooms where she had shared beautiful moments with her father, her mother and her little brother. The living room reminded her of the days she would wait to ambush her father when he came home. She always hid in the same spot, yet he was always surprised to see her, only when she grew older did she realize with renewed pain that he was acting shocked for her benefit. The dining room where she had fed her brother, proving to her mother that she too could take care of a baby, and here, the music room where she played to her mother, a music lover who never got the chance to learn to play the piano and would always promise herself she would start learning next year.
There was a different pain she hadn't expected when she saw the house in ruins. In her mind, it was still complete, the way it was the last time she saw it, before the fire. The house stood there, a shell of its former self and a reminder of her life and the change that a singular incident had caused for her. It stung but there was a moment of respite when she saw the piano in one piece.
'Do you play?' Mrs. Rose turned and asked her, noticing Ophelia's smile on seeing the piano.
Ophelia couldn't resist, she walked round the relic, touching its keys to make sure it still worked, overcome with joy that it did, she sat before it and played for her.
That day she played the first piece she perfected for her mother. At first, she was afraid that she wouldn't be able to play, it had been so long since she had last touched the instrument but when she sat to play, she played the first note, then continued on autopilot. Her fingers moved over the keys with pinpoint accuracy, denying the years she stayed without playing.
Today, she was set to play the same piece, this time, for herself. Her hand hovered hesitantly over the first key, then she started. As she played, her mind wandered, she remembered Mrs. Rose, standing beside the piano, watching her play, a light smile on her face. Ophelia missed a key and frowned, then started again. That day, she made it to the end of the piece without missing a single key and after playing for Mrs. Rose, she had looked at Ophelia so intently as though she had something very important to say to her. Ophelia missed another key, and then banged at the piano in frustration.
Memories of the day came flashing back so clearly, Mrs. Rose clapping softly after she was done,
'Beautiful' she had breathed emotionally.
'I'm in shock myself, it's been so long since I last played' Ophelia confessed bashfully.
'Why? You have a gift', Mrs. Rose almost seemed sad that Ophelia didn't play anymore.
'It's because I used to play for my family and they're no more. It's just too painful to play now.' Ophelia said sadly, wondering how Mrs. Rose would react if she told her that this was the very piano she had played for them.
'They're no more? What about Pearl? Isn't she a member of your family?' Mrs. Rose asked in shock.
'Oh, yes but we're cousins. I lost my parents and my brother' Ophelia continued painfully.
'Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that' Mrs. Rose genuinely looked sorry.
'It's alright; it's been so long ago. I'm glad I came here; at least I can regain this part of me.' Ophelia was grateful to Mrs. Rose. She loved music but hadn't played in years, chaining her gift to the past.
Ophelia stood up from the piano and turned to look at other parts of the house, she felt liberated from the shackles of her past and was finally free to move on.
'Ophelia, there's something I need to tell you' Mrs. Rose's eyes suddenly turned serious. Ophelia turned back to listen to her, holding her breath without realizing it, her heart almost bursting from anticipation.
A flicker of recognition flashed over Ophelia's face. 'Could it be?' she thought, hoping, wishing. Ophelia desperately wanted to believe the impossible, although a nagging voice in her head kept telling her that the woman before her looked too young. If Ophelia's hopes were true, her life might change forever.
'Mommy!' the voice of a child called. Ophelia's heart fell, and she was quickly disillusioned. 'Oh, it's her child' she thought.
'Did you hear that?' Mrs. Rose immediately ran in the direction of the voice, she searched frantically for the child but couldn't see it.
'Ophelia, I'm afraid this is the last time we will meet. I would love to walk you home but I'm a bit busy right now' Mrs. Rose suddenly bid her farewell distractedly. Ophelia was stunned. Just like that their time together came to an abrupt end.
'Alright,' she answered, disoriented. She walked away slowly, looking back to see if Mrs. Rose would come with her but she was too busy, searching for the source of that voice.
Ophelia sighed sadly at the thought of the memory.
'What am I thinking? Why am I upset about that memory? Of course, Mrs. Rose isn't my mother. She reminds me of my mother, but so did Mrs. Julia and every other older female figure in my life. It's time to accept reality. She's gone and no one can replace her'.
Ophelia remembered the sound of the child's voice, an audible rift between herself and Mrs. Rose. A tangible reminder that she was an orphan.
Ophelia sighed and stared at the piano, she positioned herself to play the piece again but stopped because she heard approaching footsteps and voices. She suddenly felt like a trespasser in her own home. Without thinking, she quickly found a place to hide.
From her hidden position, she heard the lowered voices of two men.
'When are you performing the ritual to obtain the power of the portal lords?' a male voice asked. Ophelia deduced him to be a bit older by his voice.
'Later today' another responded, a younger male voice which sounded a bit familiar to Ophelia.
'And you're sure she trusts you,' the older man continued to probe.
'Of course, she doesn't suspect a thing,' the younger man assured.
'You know the plan, don't you?' the older man asked.
'Of course, I obtain the power and hand it over to Harold. It's easy as pie' the younger man responded.
There was an uneasy silence between them. Ophelia held her breath, fearing discovery in the quiet while they sat down. A series of notes sounded from the piano then suddenly stopped.
'Did you have to do that to my mind?' the younger voice asked.
Someone shifted on his seat, and a tired sigh escaped between them.
'Yes. I knew you wouldn't be able to play the part of a double agent so I made you into the kind of person they would trust. What better way to deceive them than with the truth?'
'Is that all? Is that the only reason you brainwashed me?' the younger man's suspicions lingered.
'Why are you asking that?' a tinge of anger laced the older man's words.
'It feels like you erased my memories until a pivotal moment without my say because you were afraid of something' the younger voice carried an undercurrent of feelings of betrayal.
'Look, son. You left me with no choice, you were a frail child. You didn't have much of a will. You weren't sure of the important things and you were always questioning me' he sounded disappointed or irritated.
'You brainwashed me so that I wouldn't question you any more. The truth comes out'.
'Do you remember the fire?' the older voice asked. They were silent for a while, until finally, the younger voice responded.
'Yes' his voice was strained.
'Because of your beliefs, we lost an important potential hostage. Your beliefs almost cost us the entire mission' the older voice scolded.
'After that incident, I knew I had to do something about you and this was the only way you could continue to be useful to us'
'Harold' The younger one retorted. From his voice, Ophelia could tell his father's remarks hurt him, 'We wouldn't have him now if it weren't for my actions that day' Ophelia recognized the name but could not remember where she heard it before.
'Yes, you obtained the boy, but lost the girl and put out the fire in the process. The fact that this house still stands is proof enough that you weren't capable of handling the responsibility of the mission' the older man responded with exhaustion from rehashing a conversation multiple times without progress or change.
The chink of heels stopped whatever the younger man had to say in response.
'Sorry, I'm late'. The voice was female.
From where Ophelia hid, beads of cold sweat began to form on her temple. She had no idea she would be in such grave danger and was grateful to her instincts for instructing her to hide.
The people in the same room with her were none other than the arsonists who had caused the fire that had destroyed her family. As she struggled to remain perfectly still, various emotions swelled within her, fear, hatred, despair, and now, most unexpectedly, hope. Was she to believe that her younger brother was alive? Her mind whirred from the possibility of seeing her brother again but she checked herself, he was also a key player in their evil scheme. She had no idea what he was like now.
'Benjamin, I see you're in your right mind today' the female voice greeted cheerily.
Ophelia nearly gasped at the name. She knew a Benjamin but surely it couldn't be the same one. With everything that's been happening around the library, surely it couldn't be.
'Suzanne, I don't know what you stand to gain from your silly games' He answered, not bothering to conceal his irritation.
'I'm sorry I scared your girlfriend, but I did it for you. A major psychological shock was necessary to unblock your mind, making the process of memory reactivation easy. If you remember, it was your idea for her to tag along in the first place' She spoke with a suppressed snicker, like she was having the time of her life.
'And the poor man you killed in the process, George?' He asked in annoyance.
'Collateral damage' came her slurred reply.
'Benjamin, you see, these… unique ethical concerns of yours are the very reason I had to do what I did to your mind. Now, where are your manners? You're talking to the princess of the blue Portal's rebellion. Don't overstep just because you were put in charge of this assignment' His father sternly rebuked him.
'Of course, how could I be so rude?' he remarked with little remorse.
'If you're both done with the pleasantries, we can get started on the reason we all came here.' Benjamin managed to say through his boiling anger.
'Alright,' the lady agreed. Ophelia wasn't sure what happened next but after many moments of utter silence, the lady suddenly spoke up.
'Let's go. Everything checks out. Benjamin obtains the portal lord's ability today' There was a collective sigh of relief then the shuffle of footsteps. Ophelia listened intently until they were out of earshot then waited for a while in fear. After several minutes had passed she got out of her hiding place slowly.
Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest when she saw a young faerie woman squatting, watching her emerge from her hiding spot. She fled, but the woman - Ophelia was sure she was Suzanne - didn't pursue her. Instead, she counted down from ten. Ophelia ran frantically, her heart beating erratically while she tried to identify the path back home in her panic.
'Zero' Suzanne was done counting, and Ophelia heard the sound of fluttering wings.
'No, no, no' She panicked, she had never learnt to fly, Pearl stopped giving her lessons and focused more on the journals. Ophelia, on her part, never asked for any more flying lessons because she nearly got a heart attack from the first one.
It is amazing what one can do when one has to. Ophelia felt herself fluttering wings she didn't even realize were there, she fluttered and flapped until she was hovering clumsily in the air, she had to learn as she went. Ophelia flew as fast as she could through the woods that surrounded what was once her home. Her only advantage was that she was more familiar with the terrain. She reached the river first and began trying to enter the portal there. She streamlined her body and dived into it only to find herself completely soaked and still outside the portal.
'Not now' fear rose in her as she rightly suspected that Suzanne was not too far off. Her mind worked as fast as it could and she speedingly hid herself.
When Suzanne arrived at the stream, all indicators showed that Ophelia had entered the portal so Suzanne, knowing she could not follow, left to rejoin the others. Once again, Ophelia emerged from hiding and went home as fast as possible to ask for help. Something big was about to happen.