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B riars ripped at her clothing and tore at her skin as she sprinted through the woods, barely noticing the sting against her flesh.

She didn’t know where she was or where she was headed; only that she had to escape.

She willed herself faster as something drew nearer behind her, lungs burning with every push of her legs.

Breaking through the dense trees, she found herself in a clearing scattered with ruins.

A massive tree glowed in the distance, hardly visible through the woven forest. Its ancient and formidable power called to her, urging her toward its ethereal presence.

A creature emerged from the woods behind her.

Searching, sniffing and rustling through the trees, it drew closer by the second.

Backing away from the sounds, she tripped over a stone and fell backward, flailing.

Her arms couldn’t find purchase as she was enveloped in total darkness.

Her body tingled, pressure causing her ears to pop and as she continued to fall, she barely made out someone calling her name. “Ava!”

Ava woke with a start and sat up in bed, drenched in sweat.

She was in her bedroom at her grandfather’s farm, not running through the woods from a terrible unknown creature.

Heart still racing, she rubbed her face and took several deep breaths, just as her mother had taught her to do when she was scared.

In through her nose and out through her mouth.

No dream had ever felt so real. She could still feel that strange tug toward the glowing tree.

As if she needed to reach it, touch it. It felt important for some reason; was it part of a memory, twisted with age?

And what about that voice? It had been a man’s voice, and she couldn’t shake the urgency in the way he shouted.

Hands still quivering, she pushed the dream out of her mind and checked the time.

7:02 am. Too worked up to fall back asleep, she slipped on her ivory robe and fuzzy slippers, fighting the morning chill of the house, and made her way to the kitchen on a quest for caffeine from her otherwise empty pantry.

The kitchen was sizable, with a marble topped center island perfect for cooking—one of Ava’s favorite past times. The windows overlooked the shaded backyard, a sliver of morning sun peering through the trees brightening the space that was open to the dining and living room.

Her coffee finished brewing and as she poured herself a cup, she mentally reviewed today’s tasks. Grocery shopping was her top priority. Afterward, she would explore the land to re-familiarize herself with the layout of the farm.

She headed to the office, the stoneware mug warm in her hands, to look through her grandfather’s instructions before she journeyed into town.

The room was dusty, with dark wall-to-wall oak bookshelves and an antique desk.

Ava opened the window to allow in the morning breeze and bring fresh air to the stale room and turned to the desk.

A binder labeled To the Future Caretaker.

Flower Farming 101 had been placed on top.

She sat down and skimmed the pages divided into sections based on the time of year.

Each section listed when to plant each flower, what time of year they bloomed, along with their watering and fertilizer requirements.

There was even information on troubleshooting pests, diseases, and other unexpected hurdles.

Luckily, it was fall so she would have months to learn before she needed to have things up and running again by spring.

Setting the binder aside, she turned her attention to the bookshelves. She skimmed the titles, overwhelmed by the sheer number of volumes. Peonies: From Seed to Harvest. Soil Health for Beginners. So, You Want to Start a Flower Farm?

Continuing her exploration, she opened the desk drawers and rummaged through their contents, not quite sure what she was searching for.

She pushed the last drawer closed in bored defeat, but it caught on something and jammed halfway.

Cursing, she re-opened it and tried to slam it harder.

When that didn’t work, she yanked it out, rougher than intended and it crashed to the floor, pens and office supplies scattering.

“Shit.”

Ava scooped up the supplies and dumped them in the drawer when she paused. There was an imperfection in the wood. Inside the drawer cavity was a small compartment, the lip of a door barely visible.

Curiosity piqued, she felt around the edges, using a pen to pry the door open the rest of the way when her fingers weren’t enough.

The wood popped out, revealing a small black journal.

She ran her fingers along the cover, tracing the edges of the worn leather and remained on the floor, the worn rug soft beneath her as she crossed her legs.

The moment she lifted the cover everything stopped.

The curtains stilled as the breeze outside ceased and the hair on the back of her neck stood up.

Goosebumps rose along her arms as she looked around for anything out of place, sea glass green eyes scanning the room.

Everything appeared the same, but she could still feel it.

As if the earth was urging her to pay attention.

After a moment, life resumed and the sensation was gone.

Heart still racing, she drew her attention back to the book and read the first page. The entry was dated more than thirty years ago. The day of her birth.

She survived the birth, thank The Mother. Ava is beautiful, the spitting image of her mom. They’re going to move to the city, but she promises to visit. I can’t wait.

She skimmed through the journal, yearning for more. For some kind of information. Most of the entries were short like the first. Brief snippets about random happenings in her grandfather’s life or their visits to the farm. She found another and began to read.

My daughter’s magic is waning. We’ve been in this realm too long, but we must do what we need to in order to protect Ava. Preserve her life until she is ready to go back.

She paused. Go back where? Ava thought back to the strange language her mother would sometimes sing in.

They weren’t from here originally, she was almost sure of it.

And though she knew her mother had magical abilities, she had never been told about other worlds.

It sounded like something out of a story book.

Ava flipped through the pages. As if the answers would jump out and announce themselves. Another entry .

My girls must move to a new hiding place. I’ve made Sarah promise not to tell me where.

Her eyes flicked up to the date at the corner of the page.

It was around the time they stopped visiting, when her mother had told her Grandpa was too sick.

What were they hiding from? What did Ava need to be ready for?

She flipped further and found an entry dated just a few days after her mother’s death.

My sweet Sarah passed. Her body couldn’t fight the cancer any longer. I will tell everything to Ava soon. Her mother wanted me to wait until she was truly old enough to understand the prophecy and responsibilities she must shoulder. My poor daughter. I will miss her so.

Prophecy? Ava chewed her lip as she wrapped her arms around her knees, still holding the journal in her hands.

It sounded like her grandfather’s usual paranoia.

Prophecies weren’t real… right? She flipped through the rest of the journal, but the remaining pages were empty.

As if he had given up and just stopped writing.

Frustration boiled over as she thought about her family; angry that those she trusted most in the world had been so secretive.

Ava never knew where they came from, never knew why her mother could perform magic or what was lurking in the forest beyond the flower fields.

The forest her grandfather was always watching and warned her never to enter.

She wanted answers. Needed them. It was one of the reasons she decided to move out here .

She rubbed her temples. Should she ask Eleanor? She had been around when Ava’s mother performed magic and had spent hours playing with her on the farm, aware of her grandfather’s oddities. Though it was so long ago, maybe she would remember. Ava hoped Eleanor didn’t think she was crazy.

Rising from the floor, she placed the journal on the desk and finished cleaning up the mess. She tried to attribute the strange journal entries to dementia or some form of madness, her mother’s death pushing him even further away from sanity.

But she wasn’t very successful at convincing herself of this. Something felt off.

She wished her mother were here to comfort her. She always knew the exact thing to say when Ava went too deep within herself, lost in her thoughts and anxiety. Her mother had been tough. The rock on which she stood. An unbreakable force.

Whenever Ava struggled as a child, she could always count on her to be a steady unwavering presence, pushing her to face her challenges head on.

“Crush them,” she used to say when her insecurities tried to win. “All the obstacles that stand in your way. Crush them, Ava.”

She wasn’t sure she knew how anymore.

Asters, daisies and lobelia swayed beside Ava as she meandered through the fields, their botanical scents floating on the breeze.

Honeybees were hard at work inside bright red blooms, gathering the last bit of pollen before the first freeze urged them into hibernation.

The conservationist in her warmed at her grandfather’s fervor to preserve as much native flora as possible while tilling land for his business.

It was something they had all been passionate about, protecting local plants and animals .

She entered the flower fields through a wooden archway covered in climbing red roses and as she walked up and down the neat rows of flowers, she spotted several of her favorites.

Dahlias, zinnias, and sunflowers stretched as far as the eye could see in a rainbow of color.

She buzzed with excitement as she imagined herself spending time out here, nurturing and harvesting her bounty.

She stood in silence, hands on her hips, appreciating the view. This land, this homestead. It had always felt like home more than anywhere she’d ever lived. It called to her. Whispering her name on a crisp fall breeze, filling her soul with tranquility.

She longed to find peace. Hoped her heart would be healed through this connection with mother earth.

After years of uncertainty, of moving around the country and repeatedly starting over, maybe she could settle.

Build a life here. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, taking it all in and letting the subtle gusts of wind caress her very spirit.

She changed course and ventured into the woods.

She wasn’t a child anymore and she wanted to explore.

Needed to. As if it was drawing her in, begging for its secrets to be revealed.

Despite the childhood warnings, she pushed on.

If her family wanted to keep her out of here, they shouldn’t have died and left her all alone.

Ava followed a path which wove through towering pine and fir trees and eventually vanished under the overgrown brush and vines.

Leaves crunched beneath her feet as a squirrel chattered overhead.

Sunlight waned as the canopy grew denser and she picked her way deeper into the wild, stepping over fallen logs smothered with viridescent mosses.

As she hiked through the grove, she felt as though she was being watched.

She paused, muscles tense as she evaluated her surroundings, searching for the source of her unease.

Squinting, she peered between the trees, trying to focus her vision in the dim light.

She wrapped her arms around herself as she began to wander again, still aware of the mysterious sensation.

Moments later, the feeling intensified and this time she stopped and looked more closely, scanning around her with sharp attention. She inspected the grove, landing on a pair of dark eyes gazing at her from between the shrubs.

It was a doe. With soft brown fur and white spots, its large ears moved about as it listened for predators.

It didn’t appear scared and drew closer as she spoke with it in hushed tones.

She’d always been abnormally gifted with animals and held out her hand as the deer stopped and sniffed her fingers warily.

She stretched her hand out further, but quicker than she was able to make sense of, the deer turned, searching the forest behind it. It bounded off into the woods as if something else was lurking just beyond the shadows, leaving Ava behind. Leaving her alone.

A chill went down Ava’s spine.

The forest had gone quiet, no longer chiming with the songs of birds or the squeaks of chipmunks.

Even the breeze ceased, as if the forest held its breath, waiting.

Ava took a few more uneasy steps when the rustling of leaves sounded behind her.

She turned toward the sound, and a flurry of animals flew past. Birds darted through the treetops as rabbits and more deer rushed around her in a frenzy.

The small stampede was gone within seconds, the forest silent yet again. Though she knew it was time to go back to the house, she felt a tug. A thread pulling her further into the woods. Into the dark. She took another step toward it when something moved in the corner of her eye.

Ava whipped around just in time to see a tall shadow disappear behind a tree. Warning bells pealed in her head, and she turned and ran out of the forest, racing the sun as it set behind the trees.

Heart pounding in her ears, she broke into the open field of the farm and doubled over with her hands on her knees, panting. When she checked her phone, she saw that three hours had gone by. Impossible. She had only been in there for an hour at most, she was sure of it.

As she caught her breath, a twig snapped from just beyond the tree line and she could have sworn she heard breathing behind her. Taking no chances, she took off in a run all the way back to the house, not even sparing the forest a second glance.