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She blinked again, but the oddity remained at the door, reminding her of the way a jellyfish would swim in the ocean. She couldn’t pull her eyes from it. Through the most bizarre level of trust, like she knew it, Emara felt instantly connected. She had felt its energy before and wasn’t afraid. Any concerns she had when she had woken up vanished.

The orb moved slowly towards the door, and a cool breeze entered the room, fluttering the loose strands of her hair. Emara felt an instant urge to touch the energy, like she wanted to put her hand through the centre of it. She moved with cat-like grace so as not to wake Torin as she slinked herself out from underneath the blankets.

She was terrified that if he awoke, the orb would disappear.

He would probably take a swing at it before she could find out what it was.

The door opened on its own behind the orb, inviting her to take steps forward, and Emara’s lips parted.

“What are you?” she whispered to the magic that pulsed all around her.

The orb floated like a cloud from her sight and into the corridor. A tugging feeling in her muscles had her walking to find it, to keep up with it. She did her best to control her breathing whilst the orb led her down the stairs to the deserted front of the inn.

What in Rhiannon’s name is this thing?

The lock on the inn door slid quickly to the side with no signs of struggle. A chill ran up Emara’s spine, but again, she wasn’t afraid. The door of the inn creaked open, and the orb disappeared out into the darkness of the surrounding forest.

“Do you want me to follow you?” she whispered. The orb appeared again in the doorway, a bright light of mystical colours that lit up the room and disappeared again.

She followed it out into the forest.

The forest floor was frozen under her bare feet as she followed the ball of light into the ancient woods. The Cold Moon had made an appearance for the first time, a thick horseshoe glowing above her, bright, wonderful, and wise.

She didn’t know how long she had been walking, but it felt like the orb parted the trees for her, moving vines and thorns from her path. It even warmed the ground, where she stepped felt like the summer sun was in the sky instead of the Cold Moon. She did find it odd that she couldn’t feel the chill of the wind against her skin; the only sign of it being there was the constant wisps of hair that floated against her face. Every part of her gave into the orbs’ demands and she followed it blindly through the forest.

Before long, the sound of gushing water drifted from between the trees. She followed the glowing ball of starlight until it stopped just at the entrance of a high clearing. Emara stood still as she glanced out at the relentless water that poured from the top of a rock face into a darkness she could not see the bottom of.

It was a waterfall.

Although she had heard the sounds of its magic long before she had really seen it, she hadn’t been aware of its beauty, not until now. She had seen streams that led to decent-sized waterfalls in Mossgrave, but this one was different. This one seemed to feel…well, it felt magical. The very sound of its waters charmed her ears, and the strength of its current pulled her in. It wasn’t overwhelmingly large, but it was a good drop into the pool below. The water sprayed a glittering dust of light mist up into the night air, and the winter wind blew it across to where she stood.

She didn’t know how far she had walked, but as she felt the magic tingle on her skin, she wondered if this could be the Waterfall of Uttara, God of Stars and Dawn?

Emara took a breath that chilled down into her chest, and she felt the magic dance on her lips.

It had to be the Waterfall of Uttara.

Its magnificence was just as remarkable as the stars that twinkled above it.

The light flashed in front of her vision, and she took a step back, her feet finding their way across the damp cliff top, away from the drop.

“Why have you led me here?” Emara whispered. She shook her head and looked over to the waterfall again. Had she gone so insane that she expected an orb of light to speak back to her?

She was truly losing it. Emara pinched herself, expecting to awake back in the bed of the inn.

She didn’t.

Unexpectedly, the sphere expanded, elongated, and flashed brightly. Emara fell back in disbelief, flinging her arm over her face to shield her eyes from the blinding light that stole her vision.

After a few seconds of blinking gold stars, she looked up. A glowing figure stood where the orb had been, and if Emara hadn’t already fallen to the ground, her legs would have been swept out from under her.

Beautiful blonde hair bounced atop petite shoulders. High cheekbones and a warm smile shone at her.

It was Callyn. It was her Cally. Callyn Agnes Greymore.

She stood speedily; it made her dizzy, and she blinked again. Her throat swelled, as did the emotion in her eyes.

No, this wasn’t real. She was dreaming. She pinched herself again, harder.