Mara was exhausted again. Information swirled in her head—flickering images of lost relatives, friends, and an enormous daunting palace, rolling hills and pockets of overpopulated villages. When she'd finally been allowed to rest, she found herself unable to shut her eyes. Dueling with her restless mind, Mara threw the extravagant covers off her extravagant bed and slipped from the room.
The air in the hall was cool, and her clammy feet stuck slightly to the marble floor as she walked. Mara's eyes drooped. Yawning, she rubbed her face and continued down the columned way. She wasn't entirely sure where she was going, but she didn't really care—she was too tired to.
Mara turned a corner and found herself at a dead end. There was a single room in the corridor. The door was painted white with a lovely blue dove dotting the center. A soft sound emulated from behind it. Mara approached the door and laid her ear against the smooth wood. The voice was gentle and warm.
"Good night, sleep tight," the voice hummed. "Dream sweet dreams, for me…"1
The comforting song flowed over Mara, she felt calmer and even more tired.
"Dream sweet dreams, for you…"
Every syllable sent Mara further into a dream. She couldn't remember a time where she'd felt so relaxed and loved.
"Good night, sleep tight…" the sugared voice drifted off, becoming quieter than before.
And it stopped.
Mara heard the door knob turn and quickly backed away from the door. The door swung wide. Aria stood in the framework. She was barefoot, wearing a colorful pair of pajama pants and a cotton T-shirt. The room behind her was blue and filled with colorful toys, carpets, and chairs.
Aria's eyes widened as she saw Mara but her tone remained soft, "Mara, what are you doing up? Is everything alright?"
Mara nodded, "I couldn't sleep so I took a walk." She thought for a moment then said, "I heard someone singing and…"
Mara stopped. She was still wary of this woman, and she wasn't sure she wanted to share her feelings. Aria seemed to understand, though. Her lips curled into a careful smile as she gazed at Mara through the dark.
"It's a lullaby my mother used to sing to me—my only memory of my past, really. I sing it to calm the babies when they're restless," Aria explained.
Mara smiled against her will.
"Hopefully it didn't sound too awful. I don't usually have a cohesive audience," Aria laughed, trying desperately to break the silence.
"No, no. It was lovely. I-It's a very calming tune," Mara tried not to oversell her feelings.
"Hmph, good."
Quiet.
"Mara?"
"Yes?"
"Did you recognize the song by any chance? Sometimes music resonates more than any face…"
Mara couldn't lie; she told her the truth. "I—think I did. It made me feel so calm and relaxed and…" she held her breath a moment. "Home."
"This is your home, Mara. Even if you doubt your connection to this place, you're still welcome here. Always." Aria laid a hand on Mara's shoulder.
"Thank you," she said softly, looking into Aria's earthen eyes.
Aria smiled brighter and rubbed Mara's shoulder. Mara was rapt to her golden irises; they were so calm and reassuring. She felt as if she had stared into them a million times before.
Mara was afraid, but something far back in her head clicked. And this woman felt no longer like a stranger, but her like her long-awaited mother.
"Thank you, mother."
Aria's head cocked slightly and her sad eyes turned longing, "Oh, Mara…"
They embraced. Mara buried her face into her mom's shoulder. She smelled of sugar, flowers, and all things kind. Aria stroked Mara's tangled blonde hair. They could feel each other's hearts, beating in a syncopated rhythm.
When they separated, Aria patted Mara's cheek and said, "Get some sleep." She kissed her forehead. The affection turned Mara's face pink.
Each went back to their chambers, and though Mara's bed was still strange and new, it felt a little softer now. A little warmer. She drifted off the moment she hit the pillow.