Tauriel stared blankly at the translucent woman in front of her, mouth agape, her mind struggling to process the stranger's words.
She slowly sat down against the gnarled base of the tree, the chill of the bark biting into her back and jolting her already-worn body. Her voice was faint but filled with doubt. "You're just a figment of my imagination… Then why does everything hurt so much?"
Then she opened her mouth agape as if she knew the reason. "It must be because I'm dying. Its just a dying brats imagination."
The woman hovered closer, gently clasping her hands together, her translucent figure shimmering beneath the moonlight. "No, dear. I'm not your imagination. I'm real… Well, that might be subjective, depending on your definition of real."
Tauriel's head snapped up, eyes sharp as daggers. "Then why lie? How could anyone be awakened from birth? My parents—my real parents—weren't awakened."
