The world was soft. Dark. And unusually, quiet.
Then came the vibration.
A dull thud traveled through her chest. Then another. She burrowed deeper into the pillow and smiled into the silk. The dream must be over. I'm free. Thank god.
"Quit it Jamie," she mumbled. She kept her eyes shut, clinging to the last dregs of sleep. "Stupid kid, your pushes are... Yawn. Super weak."
The thud came again, louder this time. It rattled her teeth.
She huffed, and blindly swept her arm across the empty side of the sheets to push him away. "You little bum. Go awayyy..."
Her hand swept through cold, empty air.
The thud wasn't coming from Jamie, it was coming from Raine. And Aspen would never return home.
Her eyes opened to a ceiling she wasn't yet familiar with. Gray wood, knotted and alive. But this ceiling was lower, and it faintly reflected rainbow light.
She frowned. "Did you hear that?"
Raine didn't meet her gaze. "Who is Jamie?"
Not someone you need to know. "Where am I?"
Quinn spoke, somewhere further back. "Hermit's room."
Ughhh... Aspen slumped into the silk. Her head pounded. Not pain exactly, but pressure. Like her skull had been filled with thick mud. Something too dense to belong there.
She tried to sit up. Her body responded sluggishly, muscles moving through invisible resistance. When she finally managed to prop herself on her elbows, she saw it.
Light.
Everywhere.
Prismatic threads crisscrossed the room like a spider's web dipped in oil slick. Many didn't just hang; they were pulled tight, vibrating with high-wire tension. They tessellated into a perfect grid of proper triangles—fractals of what Aspen remembered meant 'Open'.
So in a sense, she was surrounded by many, many eyes.
But the geometry did not stop there. The threads were anchored to the floor, connected to the myriad ash bowls and dust circles scattered around the room. The ash acted as the vertices, holding the light in place to form twisting polygons Aspen couldn't name.
Is this real?
All of this. She felt a sting on her forehead. Her hand went there and met something cold and smooth. She traced the shape.
A mark.
Like someone had branded her with liquid crystal.
"That stops you from leaving. Don't touch it." Quinn said.
Aspen's head turned, slowly, to the right.
Raine sat in the chair beside the bed, wings folded tight, hands clasped in her lap. Her face was pale, eyes rimmed with red. Quinn stood further back, leaning against the wall by the curtain-way.
But the curtain was ripped. They must really want the spirits to see this. To see me.
What am I? Some kind of exhibit?
Aspen's voice came out cracked. Dry. "What is this? What happened?"
Quinn pushed off the wall. "Hanged Man's work. The bindings meant to slow your link with the Omen."
Link? Hanged Man?! That's… wait, there's no way. "What do you mean by my link to the Omen? Are you going to—"
"Nobody is going to hurt you." Raine's voice was soft. Careful. "You collapsed. It's been two spans."
Spans? The fuck is that?
I don't even want to ask.
Aspen's hands clenched the silk sheets. Why can't anything just be simple? The Omen is linked to me? And Hanged Man. HANGED MAN. The fuck did Lyra do? Wait no, did she really cause this…? She inhaled deeply. Focus. Come on. Ground yourself first.
Okay. Exhaled. Through her mouth.
They didn't hurt me when I was unconscious. That was two... 'spans' where they could've. But they set this up… why have all the triangles? And a ripped curtain? Is it for more spirit… power?
Her head felt light and her eyes started to tingle. I'm fucking thinking about spirit power when I need… what do I need?
How do I think about this?
Shit, I'm panicking. Isn't this necklace supposed to help me out? Is it failing because this relates to the fact I was forced into another world?
NO DUMBASS! Wait. That makes sense.
Okay, track back. The times the necklace tweaked out was in relation to that fact. And if this necklace keeps struggling to keep up...
What's going to happen to me when the necklace completely fails..?
And this necklace is allowing me to be hyperaware of what's going on, well logically, to an extent. It's atleast keeping me stable and not... too emotional. But that also is what's causing the emotions getting worse underneath.
Because I keep thinking.
Like holy shit, I'm thinking about necklace mechanics after what just happened.
I just stabbed a person in the eye.
She let that sink in for a moment. I gouged her eye. The world dropped into place around that thought. Could I actually be that violent? Is she permanently blind? What did I do? How could I? Will she come to kill me?
No. No, that can't be. She was... she was going to do something to me. Be logical. Her blood cooled. 'Be logical', the magic words. They want me alive. Whoever that Wister person is can heal her.
And there's something much more important at hand.
"Hanged Man," Aspen repeated slowly. There's just no way. That's a tarot card.
That's a fucking tarot card! It all makes so much sense now. All of our council names.
Why didn't I search up more about tarot before, shit!
Fool. Hermit. Hierophant. High Priestess. I only recognized Hanged Man but all these other names are clearly tarot things in retrospect.
So what does this mean? She looked at the threads again. They hummed with a low, sustained note. Both worlds have tarot.
They're connected. These worlds are connected.
The crack in the necklace widened ever so slightly.
No no noononono, this is much more than that. I'm sent into the body of a council member in this weird tarot council. What if I didn't know anything about tarot? I would've never known.
This can't just be Lyra's fault. This is planned. What is this world? Is it a simulation or maybe…
Maybe I really am dreaming…? Dreams do connect lots of random things from your mind, maybe this is just… like—like a really weird dream? Maybe it's some kind of unique trauma response?
But I just fainted. I've fainted twice today. Or three times?
Raine and Quinn exchanged a glance. Raine spoke first. "The connection. Between you and the Omen. It was…" She searched for the word. "Active. Growing. Hierophant said it was like watching roots dig deeper."
Growing? "Wait, but if Ly—er," she glanced at the open curtain-way, "the past Hermit made the connection, then why is it growing stronger a bad thing?"
Quinn corrected. "Because the Omen reforms as it grows stronger."
What?
Aspen's stomach dropped. "So this," she gestured at the threads, "is supposed to slow that?"
Quinn nodded. "Hierophant only got glimpses, and more intuition than anything concrete. If Hanged Man's work has no effect, then the Omen still comes in six days."
Aspen's eyes went wide. "Wait, what? What do you mean? Why does it still come on the same day?"
Raine spoke up. "We think that when Hierophant divined its coming in the past, the Spirit of Grace showed him its date of revival."
Wait, so they spent all this time thinking that six days meant when it would arrive from outside.
"Why didn't the Spirit of Grace just tell him that it would come for old Hermit then?"
The pair shrugged at her. Quinn sighed. "Ask it yourself someday. With all the dancing and praise we do, what do we really know?"
Raine's head shot back. "Quinn! Watch your words."
Quinn rolled her eyes. "What does that spirit care about my words?"
Wait, so does the Spirit of Grace just know everything? If it's divining stuff then… does it really see the future?
Does that mean the future is set? The crack in the necklace widened. No, stop. God, focus.
The Spirit of Grace knew of Lyra's ritual. It told them when the Omen would revive, but not everything, for some reason.
Because of Lyra, the Omen is linked to me. And this link gets stronger over time… making the Omen get stronger? What's the point? To buy time?
Aspen cocked her head. "Do you think she did all this ritual stuff so that when the Omen comes, you can all kill it when it's weaker and just formed?"
Raine nodded. "That has to be the case. That's just what she'd do… and that's what Hierophant says."
That doesn't sound very confident. But I guess some others might disagree with Hierophant's opinion. I need to stay away from High Priestess. A shiver ran down her spine. God, what was she going to do to me?
And she looked like she was about to cry… fuck.
Aspen shook her head. "Then… what? What happens? I'm in this creepy ass room. The omen is linked to me. High Priestess probably wants to kill me. And we still have six days until this stupid fucking Omen comes." She forced back a sniffle. "What is this?"
Her words hung heavy in the air. Raine and Quinn looked down at the floor. Silent.
For a few moments, the only sound came from the hum of the necklace, the threads, and the sniffles Aspen couldn't hold back.
Aspen looked at the ceiling. It was too close.
Why can't I just go back home?
We planned to play Oblox. I'd have probably cleaned my room today, guests were coming.
Jamie would've come to my room a million times today, like usual.
The ceiling began to blur and warble. Or that was just her eyes.
"We… can still prepare." Quinn's tone was firm. "We still have the rituals. Yours is still on the final day. The situation hasn't truly changed, but we know more. We can better prepare for the Omen. We can kill it. And then we'll be safe."
Aspen's laugh came bitter. Then what? I have to live with you all?
"We'll teach you," Raine said quickly. "High Priestess and Hierophant are already planning—"
"Planning?" Aspen looked at the prismatic threads. She pressed the mark on her forehead. She listened to the hum of the cracked necklace that was the only thing keeping her from…
She didn't want to think about it.
"In a way, I'm just bait. I mean I wake up here and now there's all this… this fucking bullshit."
Neither of the pair spoke.
Raine's hands twisted in her lap. "She wouldn't… she wouldn't do this without reason." Her voice cracked. "She wouldn't make you go through this unless it was the only way."
Pft. Because what? It's always Lyra this, Lyra that.
You two seemed like friends, or lovers? I don't know. I don't even care at this point. I don't give a shit about this ghost girl, what about me? The necklace pulsed and the urge muted her into something dull. Manageable.
It was nostalgic.
Aspen took a breath. "Where are High Priestess and the others now?"
"Meeting with the other council members," Quinn said. "Damage control. Sharing information. The community's going to notice this—it's not subtle. Especially with your open curtain. They need a story."
Aspen's hands gripped the sheets. Yeah. I'm done.
I think I'm pooped.
Heh. Pooped. I'm coping.
"I need…" She swallowed. Tried again. "I need some space. Alone time. Just for a bit. Please."
Raine looked into her eyes.
Really looked into her eyes. Because all Aspen could think about was—
Are they looking for me back at home?
So they nodded. Quinn stood, touching Raine's shoulder. "Come on. Girl's been flying above her limit."
They moved toward the curtain-way. Quinn paused at the threshold. "We'll be right outside Hermi—your home. You need anything, you shout. Stay woven."
Aspen nodded. My home. Heh. She waited until the sound of their footsteps died.
For ten seconds, she sat perfectly still. Breathing. Just breathing.
Then she closed her eyes, trying to block out everything.
The only issue was there was blue in her eyelids. The sap lived in her.
Shit.
She was a fast learner. She used her hands this ti—she remembered they pulsed and swirled with unnatural colors.
This… this just—
She pulled the silk sheets over her head. Piling them thick enough to blot out the prismatic light.
Finally, she could hear her own breath.
Her every inhale. Every exhale.
It felt nice. It felt like she finally owned something.
Problem was her new voice sounded different. Her new lungs expanded a little more than she was used to. Her new heart beat a moment too late. Her new wings ached. And the new air was too hot.
Oh god.
She ripped the sheets off. Grounding techniques, breath in. Focus on something physical. Unfortunately, that was the gray wood walls and pulsing mushrooms. Stay calm. And now that she gave the room a little more attention, it was as if the walls were inching closer.
Like they wanted to taste her fear from the skin. B-Breathe out. She exhaled, harshly, and sunk into nicer memories.
Her bedroom light at 2 a.m. with the phone screen glowing like a lifeline, Ivan's stupid joke making her muffle laughter into her pillow. Real laughter. Safe laughter. Human laughter.
And then she realized she would never see him again.
Her shoulders jittered as a tremor shot out through her spine, her nervous system recognizing extinction before her mind could process it. No–no—every hair on her body stood like antennae trying to find the issue on the outside.
"Oh god. Oh god."
Where are Mom and Jamie? Who brought me here? Why me? I don't deserve this. Things were just looking good. I was gonna go to college.
The crack in the necklace widened to a canyon. A full fissure from the top of the gem to its bottom.
More memories came from the marrow.
Jamie's laugh.
Her mom's proud smile.
The sun through her bedroom window.
The bad report cards and ice-cream apologies.
Picking out a belt.
The callouses on her hands. The eraser marks on the papers.
Her lungs became glass balloons. Her spine locked.
"Nononono."
Losing her mind. In lowercase.
"Ahh... AhhhHHHHHHH!!!"
The first of many.
Footsteps came fast. As quickly as they left, Quinn and Raine back rushed in.
Their eyes met, and the first thing Raine said was, "Lyra?!"
The necklace broke. The peonies died.
There was no home to vanish to.
This marked Aspen's first day in Hinter.