The Wheel of Kin: A Daughter's Journey

To race the shadow

The golden light of sunrise spilled across the porch, bathing mother and daughter in its warmth. The night had slipped away as they talked—sharing truths long buried, wounds still healing. But now, as the morning grew brighter, Elara's body felt heavy, the exhaustion she had held at bay creeping in.

Siuan shifted slightly, her arms still wrapped protectively around her daughter. She glanced down and frowned at the dark circles shadowing Elara's eyes. "You should rest your eyes for a bit, love," she murmured, brushing a loose strand of hair behind Elara's ear. "You've been through too much to keep pushing yourself like this."

Elara shook her head, though her voice softened at the affection in Siuan's tone. "I can't. It's not safe." She exhaled a weary sigh. "If I fall asleep, I might dream walk. If that happens, there's a chance I'll encounter a Forsaken... or worse."

Siuan's face hardened at the mention of the Forsaken, her fingers curling slightly against Elara's shoulder as if she could shield her from every threat. "Just for a minute," she urged gently. "I don't like the idea of you straining yourself without rest."

When Elara didn't respond, Siuan shifted and patted her lap. "Come on," she said with a small, coaxing smile. "Lay your head. I'll keep you safe."

Elara hesitated but the warmth in her mother's voice, the softness rarely shown to anyone else, melted her defenses. With a sigh, she stretched out along the swing, resting her head on Siuan's lap. Her mother's hand immediately found her hair, stroking it with a tenderness that made the ache in Elara's chest grow.

"When you were little," Siuan murmured, her fingers tracing gentle circles against Elara's temple, "your mother had a special weave she'd cast over your mind when you had nightmares. It kept you safe—wrapped you up tight so nothing could touch you while you slept. I still remember the way you'd curl into her, peaceful as a cat in the sun."

She let out a soft, wistful sigh. "Let me do the same for you now, love. Just for a little while—you need to rest."

Elara let out a soft hum of agreement, her eyelids fluttering as the comfort of her mother's touch washed over her. "Alright... just for a minute," she whispered.

Siuan smiled faintly, masking the worry gnawing at her heart. "That's my girl," she murmured as she began to weave delicate strands of Spirit and Air—an old, familiar weave that cradled Elara's thoughts and held them gently beneath a protective barrier.

Within moments, Elara's breathing slowed, her body relaxing as sleep claimed her.

❃

In her dream, Elara was no longer a battle-hardened girl burdened by the shadow of the Forsaken. She was a child again sitting cross-legged on the floor of the cozy hut where she had grown up.

A warm fire crackled in the hearth, filling the room with its soft glow. Moiraine knelt by the table, her deft hands sorting through parchment while Siuan stood at the stove, stirring a pot that filled the air with the scent of sweet porridge. The air was thick with the quiet hum of home—safe, warm, and filled with love.

Young Elara giggled as she held up a seashell—one of the many treasures her mother Siuan had brought from her time near the sea. "Look, Mother!" she exclaimed. "It's pink like the sunset!"

Siuan turned, a playful smile tugging at her lips as she wiped her hands on her apron. "A fine eye you have, little fish,"she said, crossing the room to kneel beside her daughter. "Do you remember what I taught you? What the lines inside mean?"

Elara nodded eagerly, "It's how the sea sings, isn't it?" Her voice was bright, filled with that innocent wonder only a child could possess.

Moiraine chuckled softly from her place by the table, casting an amused glance over her shoulder. "You're filling her head with fishermen's nonsense again," she teased, though the warmth in her tone softened the words.