Chapter 2: Shadows Beneath the Ash Tree
Kaela's lessons that day were a blur. She sat in the back of the schoolhouse, her gaze fixed on the frost-laced window. The old ash tree stood tall beyond the square, its branches silhouetted against the pale morning sky. While Master Elric droned on about ancient treaties and borderlines, her mind was miles away, replaying the whisper that had carried her name.
When the midday bell rang, she slipped away from the others and crossed the square to the ash tree. She knelt at its base, pressing her palm to the bark. The chill of the wood seeped into her skin, but beneath it she felt something warm—a pulse, slow and steady, like a heartbeat.
"You are not yet ready."
The voice was soft, neither male nor female, and it came from the depths of the tree itself.
She jerked her hand back, heart racing. But no one was there.
A breeze stirred the branches above, and a single ash leaf fluttered down, landing in her palm.
She closed her fingers around it, feeling the delicate veins against her skin. It looked almost ordinary, but when she turned it over, she saw a faint glow along the stem, like a thread of starlight had been caught inside.
Kaela swallowed hard. She slipped the leaf into her satchel and looked around the square. The children were still playing near the fountain, and Master Elric had vanished inside the schoolhouse. No one else seemed to notice the air, which pulsed as if holding its breath.
And in that moment, Kaela knew her life would never be the same.
She pressed a hand to her heart, trying to steady it, and turned back toward the village, unaware that in the shadows beneath the ash tree, something had begun to watch her.