dreamtrails.

Lena felt herself descend from consciousness as her eyes flicked shut. Down went her mind, her thoughts, her imagination. She braced herself for the Torture that was to come, but it never came.

Instead, she found herself in a peculiar scenery, surrounded by clouds of mist, floating strokes of colours, breezes flowing from east to west, north to south, west to east, south to north. The strokes of colour, which ranged from mustard to fuchsia to navy blue, blended as the wind blew. Dots of colour appeared in thin air, and Lena watched them grow longer, and wider, and bigger.

Her hand reached out to touch one of the strokes of colours, but they were strangely invisible. Her mouth gaped, letting her teeth feel the cold bite of the blast. She pressed them shut again, pressed them shut again, staring at her nightgown as it fluttered with the puff of air. Goosebumps were starting to form on her skin, a sudden laugh release from her lips.

Lena closed her eyes gently, kept them shut, and opened them again, slowly. There was still that mysterious scenery with that unique blend of colours, wind, and elements of art. Her eyes widened. Her breathing quickened, just a little bit. Her heart pounded, her mouth gasping in wonder. Her mind began swirling, twirling.

She had arrived on the Dreamtrails.

Out of the blue flew a snowy owl, its chocolate eyes piercing blue ones. Lena's eyes continued to widen. Camellia.

"W-What are you doing here?" Lena asked, extending her lower arm so there was a place for her companion to perch upon. The owl did as she asked, turning its head slightly towards its familiar. Its beak seemed to purse before curling slightly, to signify a small smile. The blonde girl knew this, and flashed a smile back at her companion.

"I/Camellia am/is here to accompany/assist you/Lena on the Dreamtrails," the owl explained bluntly, without moving a muscle.

Lena bit her lip. "Why you/Camellia?" she thought questioningly, rather surprised when she found she could hear it outside of her own mind as if it was a tangible thing. She gasped. "Why do I/Lena have a Mind Voice?" she asked again, her tone growing ever the more fearful by the syllable, "I have my Illusionism, and I am not physically mute. I do not want/require this... Mind Voice."

As if observing her, Camellia's large head nodded, but such a motion was so small only those close to her could notice. "No, you are no Beastspeaker or Parseltongue or any of the sort, just as Illusionist," it elaborated, pausing for a sigh of relief, "your Mind Voice will only work/be of use in the Dreamtrails." It decided to fly swiftly off Lena's arm and rest on her shoulder instead. It nuzzled into her owner's shoulder, but Lena wasn't finished.

"Why am I/Lena here?" Lena sent, her eyebrows furrowing, "I have no need/purpose to be here/in the Dreamtrails." Camellia's claws tensed that ignited pain in Lena's blood, and she had no choice but to let her lips tug into a small smile. "Though I must admit, it is a welcome distraction from nightmares/Night Torture."

"Your grandmother Enya," breathed the owl, loosening its grip, "she wants to see you."

A pin dropped.

"She is dead/in her longsleep," Lena mumbled, fingers reaching out to stroke Camellia's gentle feathers. It nodded, knowing it would comfort her. The blonde teenager went on, eyes brimming with uncertainty, "I know it is possible to see me/Lena in the Dreamtrails, since it is such a maze/puzzle of brain connection, but is it not impossible/difficult to be on the same Dreamtrail as the same time as I/Lena?"

The owl nodded. "Of course it is. But surely... the great Enya Vorstenbach can't see her daughter on the tenth anniversary of her death/longsleep. Is that too much to ask?"

A tear rolled out of Lena's eye as she thought of her grandmother. The blonde tried to blink back tears, but whatever method she tried to do so didn't work. And if that wasn't enough...

A blend of colours merged together in front of Lena's very eyes. They seemed to be surrounding an invisible silhouette, coating it in alternating stripes of colours. Lena took steps back - small, tiny, minute steps - as Camellia nuzzle her shoulder one final time before flying away, away from the mess.

The blended colours created a blinding light, causing Lena to shut her eyes and turn away, hiding her head with her hands. She kept breathing, muttering words, anything she could do to stay in the Dreamtrails. She did so for what felt like an eternity. But it wasn't; after a while, the light wasn't blinding anymore. In the place of the colourful silhouette was a young teenager with snowy blonde hair, wavy and placed perfectly over her shoulders. Her grey eyes looked familiar with its warmth and sincerity, her thin lips smiling.

Lena burst into tears.

"Enya?" she shrieked, running towards the other girl, clutching her tightly. Take out the grey eyes and the trace of wrinkles on her forehead, and Enya Vorstenbach would be a carbon copy of her granddaughter.

"Oh, Lena!" grinned the older Vorstenbach, clinging onto her granddaughter just as tightly, "my, you've grown!" Both girls laughed and let go of each other.

It was only a while before Lena notice Enya had used her Mind Voice. "Why are you not speaking with your lips. "Why are you not speaking with your lips?" she queried.

Pressing her lips together, Enya sent, "I am mute now, you see. Age does that to you." She laughed bitterly.

Obviously, Lena, feeling concerned for her grandmother (who looked more like her twin sister at the moment) did not find it funny. "How can age possible make you mute?" she sent angrily, loudly. Enya had to cover her ears.

"I am merely joking!" she laughed, speaking with her lips. Lena's jaw dropped, and shook her head in disbelief. Never had she thought that her grandmother would have such a youthful, relaxed voice spoken directly from her mouth. The voice Lena could remember was old and wise, weary.

Enya continued to speak with her Mind Voice as an attempt to stay serious, "During my death/longsleep," she elaborated kindly, her face maintaining a soft, genuine smile, "I have become adept in using my Mind Voice, more so than my Spoken Voice."

"I do not like the Mind Voice," sent the younger Vorstenbach, her tone showing signs of disdain, "it makes me feel vulnerable, Enya. And I sincerely doubt it is just due to my mindset."

Enya laughed, an eerie sound vibrating through the colourful scenery of dotted colours. "You feel that way because you are too used to expressing your concern with your lips," responded she, the smile cleaned off her face. "During these past few months, Ashling, you are less sedulous than before. You are nearly fifteen. You cannot afford to do that when the Year of Multiplication occurs."

"Why am I to be called Ashling? I know I cannot afford to be picky, and I am not complaining, but I must ask. And I should apologize for my behaviour as of late, Oma. It has been caused due to a few... trivial matters."

"Ashling... well, you should know what that means. If you don't, well... listen: it means someone whose mood constantly changes, like someone with attitude problems. It also means 'dreams of' in Irish." Lena nodded, staring intently. "It suits you perfectly, doesn't it?" Lena nodded again. "In the Year of Multiplication, your Illusionism will reach heights you've never thought possible. Soon, your Illusionism will reach your final strength. Something tells me - and this is out of experience, not a sincere comment, though I'm sure you know that - it will be a strength no Vorstenbach, not for a long time, has achieved. But for that to be possible, you need to conquer your fears, Ashling." Lena opened her mouth to speak, but Enya quickly waved her off. "And as for trivial matters... I would hardly call a relapse into a disease which can kill you/send you into the longsleep, trivial."

Lena's mouth forgot how to close itself. "H-How?" she whispered, her eyes constantly blinking, her heart pounding a million miles a minutes, "how do you - "

"I may be dead, Ashling, but do you not notice that people still care about what I want? Why you have not heard your father utter a single word against me? Why do I know what happened in everyone's Lives as I navigate the Dreamtrails? And most importantly - at least in your case - why are you still alive? Your father despises me. I am six feet under the ground. And you... your parents? They are terrified of you, Ashling. They will kill you if they have the chance. They had them, yet they didn't. That's because I told them not to."

Lena couldn't quite believe her entire life had been justified because of something her grandmother said.

"I am six feet under the ground, as I have told you," continued Enya, "yet I still live. I live in the air you breathe, the water you drink, the grounf you walk on. I live in the flames you spark, the light you see, the food you eat. I know about your true hatred for Leon, your firerce loyalty to Rose, your sheer protectiveness for Anya, Tessa and countless others. And most importantly, your undying love for Rhys." Lena cringed.

"I know all the sins you have committed, though I'm not letting you get told off by whoever's up there just because you made a few silly mistakes." Enya stared at her granddaughter, reaching for her face. "If only I had lived," she sighed, "life for you would have been so much better."

Lena didn't object when her face was cradled in her grandmother's hands. The familiar sense of security and warmth was still there, even after many years. Her eyes flickered up, staring in admiration at her idol. "It would've been, wouldn't it?" she agreed, her voice little more than a whisper. Her brows furrowed, realizing a bitter truth. "Everyone is born to die, Enya. You would have died something else sooner or later."

"I prefer later, m'dear," sighed the aged voice, letting go of the youth's head. "We must part, one way or another, but I'd rather see you grow up and get married and live the good life before I perish. Sadly, I had no say in that matter. I passed on as soon as your lips could swear trilingually."

Lena bitterly laughed at the remark Enya had made about her multilingual swearing habits. "I would say bilingually," she mused, a small smirk playing on her lips, "my Russian wasn't exactly the most fluent back then." She winked at Enya, who simply laughed along and embraced the young Uchitel.

A strong gale blew in from the north, and it was difficult for either of them to cling on to each other as tightly as they had been. Lena screamed, muttering swear words as her fingers locked around her grandmother's waist.

As strong whiffs of wind kept blowing relentlessly, Lena's locked fingers were rendered useless compared to the wind's might. Eventually, she had to pull them apart. As soon as she did, Enya was pushed back in the direction of the wind, her face remaining calm. On the other hand, the younger Vorstenbach's face contorted to an expression of horror and fear for her loved one, her arm reaching out to clutch her relative's wrist.

"No, Ashling," Enya calmly announced, "I must go before daybreak descends on the living."

Ignoring her stern grandmother's words, Lena let her tears fall. They felt hot on her face. "But Enya!" she cried, "we've only just reunited!"

"And we'll be together forever one day, Ashling. It is not for a very long time, but it is worth the wait. Now, do not let any more of those tears fall, my dear. I'm just as sad about this as you are, but it cannot be helped."

"But - " Lena interjected, but it was too late. Enya's back, which was solid and whole a couple of seconds before, began to disintergrate into clumps of particles and dots of flying colours. The Uchitel held her breath; she didn't know whether it should be considered gruesome or beautiful.

Either way, her eyes eventually stopped brimming with tears and she took a deep breath, watching her grandmother's soft face vanish with the rest of her.