Shadows of Stars

Chapter 5: The First Step of the Journey

Elara stood alone in the small inn bathroom, the cramped space filled with the musty scent of dampness and old soap. The only light came from a dirty, narrow window, casting a faint glow over the dusty mirror in front of her. She stared at her reflection for a long moment, studying it as if seeing herself for the first time.

Her white hair, that ever-distinctive feature, hung loose over her shoulders. It was long, silky, and though it had always drawn stares and whispers throughout her life, she had cherished it as a part of herself. Few people in the world had hair like hers, as pale as moonlight.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she held an old knife, rusted in places, which she had found in the small room. She knew what had to be done, but that didn't make the act any less painful. She reached for a handful of her hair, feeling the softness of the strands between her fingers—a final caress before the cut.

She closed her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. There was no choice. If she wanted to escape, to survive, she had to shed her former identity. And her hair was the first thing that had to go.

With clumsy hands, she brought the knife to the white strands and, in one swift motion, severed a long lock. The sound of the hair being sliced away seemed louder than expected, echoing in the small room. Elara felt a lump in her throat as she watched the lock fall to the floor, but she couldn't stop now. She had to keep going.

Each cut brought a small pang—not physical, but emotional. She loved her hair; it had been one of the few aspects of herself that she had never wanted to change. But now, as more and more strands fell to the floor, she realized she loved her freedom much more.

As the last lock fell, she remembered the times her mother had stroked her hair when she was a child—moments that now felt like distant phantoms. This was not just a physical change; it was a renunciation of her former identity, a definitive severing from the life she had known. When she finished, her hair was no longer the same. It was short, ragged, but enough to keep anyone from recognizing her easily. She looked at her reflection once more. Elara no longer resembled the young noble who had fled a castle. Now, she was just another figure among the shadows—a traveler without a past.

She ran a hand through her newly shorn hair, still unable to fully grasp what she had done. It hurt, but she knew it was necessary. The cabin was engulfed in shadows, illuminated only by the faint glow of a single candle. The flickering flame cast distorted shapes across the wooden walls, creating an atmosphere charged with tension and expectation. Elara stepped away from the small mirror, feeling the weight of the new cut on her shoulders, and wrapped herself in her cloak, concealing the change. She knew the next steps would be even more difficult.

Nikolas knocked gently from outside, reminding her that there wasn't much time. She tucked the knife into her belt and pulled up her hood, covering her head with the gray scarf she had worn earlier. Her transformation had begun, but there was still a long road ahead.

Nikolas stood near the door, his posture relaxed yet alert, as if expecting something to happen at any moment. His dark gaze followed Elara as she emerged from the bathroom, and though he said nothing, it was clear that he hadn't taken his eyes off her for even a second.

Silence stretched between them for several long moments, broken only by the soft crackling of the candle that lit the room. Nikolas was the first to speak.

"We need to leave before dawn arrives," he said, breaking the silence. His tone was low but firm, leaving no room for negotiation. "The patrols will be more active at sunrise, and this place isn't safe."

Elara nodded slowly, realizing they had no other choice. Staying in Draegor was out of the question, not with the possibility that her disappearance would be discovered at any moment. Yet, she couldn't fully trust Nikolas, nor his intentions.