- The Puddle and the Woods -
The hum of the fluorescent lights was the only sound left in the school hall.
Astrid dragged the mop across the linoleum floor, one hand gripping the handle, the other holding her phone as the latest true crime podcast droned in her ear. It wasnât even interestingâjust a habit to fill the silence. She paused at the end of the hallway, blinking up at the high windows where the moonlight filtered through. Dust floated in the air like glitter no one had asked for.
She sighed. Her back ached. Her legs burned. Her shift was nearly over, and her brain had already clocked out an hour ago.
One more classroom, then done.
She told herself that every night.
She shoved the mop back into the bucket, water sloshing over the side. Somewhere down the hallway, a door creaked.
She froze. Listened. Nothing.
Just the echo of an empty school at night. Always a little too quiet. A little too cold.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. A message from her sister lit the screen:
Charlie: âAre we still going to the movies? đâ
Astrid smiled faintly. Her whole body said no, but her thumbs tapped out a reply anyway:
âYeah, kiddo. Wouldnât miss it.â
Even if she fell asleep halfway through with popcorn on her lap, sheâd be there. Charlie looked forward to these nights like they were holidays. Astrid had promised, and promises were currency in their house.
Their mum had blown through her paycheckâagain. Groceries were running low. Bills were piling up. It wasnât new. It was just normal. Astrid cleaned this school five nights a week, brought in what money she could, and made sure Charlie got to school with her lunch packed and her hair brushed.
She hadnât gone to college. Never had the time. Never had the money. It didnât matter anymore. This was her life.
She headed toward the last room, keys jangling at her side.
But as she passed the stairwell that led down to the storage level, something strange caught her eye.
There was water on the floor.
A perfect circle. Still. Reflective.
Like a puddle that didnât belong.
She blinked. Frowned. Took a step toward it.
The air around it felt⌠wrong. Heavy. The world seemed to hold its breath.
Her phone buzzed again in her hand. But before she could look at itâbefore she could take a breathâ
Not just rippled. It reached.
Astrid didnât have time to scream.
The last thing she saw was her own reflection looking back at herâ
âand then everything shattered.
It felt like falling, but not downwardâmore like inward. Her stomach twisted. Light burst behind her eyes. The air was sucked from her lungs like sheâd stepped into a vacuum. There was no sound. No wind. No up or down. Just the cold drag of space folding around her like a second skin.
She hit the ground hard, rolling across soft moss and leaves that glowed faintly under her weight.
Astrid gasped, clutching her chest, her whole body trembling. Her lungs stuttered as air slammed back into them, like sheâd been held underwater for minutes.
She coughed and pushed herself upright, blinking fast.
Her breath caught againâbut this time, it wasnât from fear.
The forest around her shimmered in hues she didnât have names for. Trees soared into a sky she couldnât see, their trunks twisted and etched with glowing veins of light. Giant flowers pulsed with soft luminescence, and insect-like creatures with stained-glass wings hovered silently in the air.
She spun around. The puddleâthe mirrorâthe whatever it had beenâwas gone. No shimmering portal. No way back.
Astrid staggered backward and grabbed her phone with shaking hands.
No signal. No data. No location.
Just Charlieâs lock screen photo, smiling like nothing had happened.
What the hell is going on?
Her breath hitched. Logic screamed at her to wake up, to rationalizeâbut nothing made sense.
Fear slid into her chest like ice.
This isnât real. This isnât real. Itâs some kind of dream, or hallucination, orâ
But the moss was real under her fingers. The air was thick with unfamiliar scentsâsweet, earthy, electric. Her heart thundered in her ears.
She was here. Wherever here was.
The silence was the first thing she noticed.
Not the silence of emptinessâbut the kind that listened back.
Astrid turned slowly, her breath shallow. The forest stretched endlessly in all directions. Towering trees arched into the sky, their trunks impossibly wideâancient, almost alien. Their bark shimmered faintly with golden veins that pulsed like heartbeats.
Light filtered down through the canopy in strange huesâblue, gold, violetâand somewhere in the distance, something shimmered.
Tiny glowing specks hovered above the ground like dancing embers. Lights? Insects? Magic? They flitted away as she moved, vanishing between the trees like they had somewhere to be.
âOkay,â Astrid muttered, voice barely above a whisper. âGiant trees. Glowing mushrooms. Maybe this is a hallucination brought on by floor cleaner fumes. Maybe I hit my head.â, she spoke aloud, her voice echoed slightly. Too loud in this not-quite-right place. Not that anyone was here to hear her, but its easier to work things out when said aloud.
She took a shaky step forwardâand the moss beneath her boot lit up.
Not brightly. Not harshly.
Just a soft glow, like moonlight trapped in the earth, blooming outward from her touch. Her skin prickled. The air felt electric, chargedâlike walking through static, but softer. Alive.
A low mist was creeping along the ground, pale and swirling, brushing against her legs like it had intent. It wasnât cold. If anything, it was warm. Too warm.
The fog curled and parted, letting her pass.
Astrid swallowed, pulse climbing.
Shapes moved in the distanceâsome tall, some low to the ground. She heard chirps, rustles, something that sounded like a musical hum⌠and something else. A call that echoed too long. Deep and low and not quite animal.
She was surrounded by life.
She backed up slowly, turning in a circle, trying to spot something familiar. A landmark. A direction. Anything.
Just the endless rhythm of a forest that didnât feel like it wanted her hereâor maybe worse⌠like it did.
The treeline thinned suddenlyâand before Astrid even realized she was holding her breath, she stumbled into a clearing.
It was a village. Sort of.
Astrid stumbled through the edge of the treesâand nearly walked straight into a booth of glowing, corked bottles.
A vibrant, humming bazaar, stretched through the forest like someone had tried to hold a flea market in an enchanted greenhouse. Stalls were set into the roots of massive trees. Ropes of moss and luminescent vines hung from branches overhead, swaying gently like streamers.
Stone buildings jutted from hillsides and trunks, their walls carved with twisting runes and window panes made of crystalized leaves. Lanterns bobbed on strings, casting golden light that flickered like fireflies.
And peopleâbeingsâmoved between them, bargaining and chatting in a dozen unfamiliar tongues. Cloaked elves with sharp eyes and long braids. Dwarves with soot-stained aprons and tools clanking from their belts. Others she couldnât categorizeâcreatures with antlers and glowing tattoos, or eyes that shimmered like galaxies.
A trio of tiny, winged figures zipped past her head with giggles like windchimesâfaries?âleaving a trail of sparkling dust in the air.
Astridâs heart was thundering.
It smelled like spiced smoke, sap, and something floral she couldnât name. One booth had a performing mage juggling tiny orbs of fire, while another boasted a cage full of chirping, two-headed birds.
And completely terrifying.
She stood out like a stain on silk. Her scuffed boots and hoodie, her old band teeânone of it belonged here. Conversations quieted as she passed. One stallholder stopped mid-sale. A young child tugged at their motherâs sleeve and whispered something, pointing at her.
This is like a hipsterâs dream, she thought, dazed. A fantasy-world farmerâs market. And Iâm the only one dressed like I just crawled out of a discount bin.
She stepped deeper into the market, eyes wide. It was like walking straight into a fairy taleâglowing bottles, hovering lights, creatures she couldnât name.
A large intimidating figure in a black cloak. Mask like bone. Silver plated armour, golden bands etched with sigils around their arms.
Her mouth opened, but her throat was dry.
âIâI think thereâs been a mistake. Iâm justââ
Astridâs voice cracked. Her throat was dry, her heart thudding in her ears.
The enforcers didnât flinch. The one in front stepped closer, mask expressionless. âWhere is your brand?â
Astrid shook her head, panic rising like bile. The crowd was starting to close in, whispers rising like smoke. She took a step back. Her legs felt like lead.
âI donâtâthereâs been a mistake,â she stammered. âPlease, IâIâm notââ
The masked figure raised a hand. Magic shimmered in his palmâan eerie, unnatural light.
Astrid couldnât move. She could feel the heat of tears behind her eyes. She wasnât supposed to be here. She wasnât supposed to be anything.
A voice rang out, cutting through the tension like a blade.
He stood just beyond the crowdâleaning casually against a twisted tree root like this was all one big inconvenience. His cloak was black and battered, the edges singed and frayed. Dust clung to him like a second skin.
Tall, lean. Older than herâmaybeâbut not by much. His hair was dark and tousled, falling over one eye, and when he smiled, it was crooked and unapologetic.
But it was his eyes that got her.
Golden. Slitted like a catâs. Watching. Calculating. Amused.
âFinally caught up to you,â he said, pushing off the root and strolling over. âSeriously, youâve got to stop wandering off. You know youâre not supposed to leave the outer lanes without me.â
He moved between her and the enforcers without hesitation, slipping into the space like he owned it.
âSorry about her,â he added, turning to the masked figures. âSheâs a bit of an airhead. No offense.â He threw a thumb over his shoulder at her. âYou know how it is. No magic, no sense.â
Astridâs mouth dropped open. âExcuse meâ?â
The lead enforcer didnât move. He looked between them, then to her. âShe has no mark. No classification.â
âYeah,â the stranger said easily. âThatâs kind of the point. Sheâs not registered yetâour regionâs behind on the paperwork.â He smiled again, sharp and lazy. âYou know how backwater provinces are.â
Then the enforcer finally stepped back. âGet her branded. Soon.â
âOf course. Right away. Thanks for the reminder,â he said, his tone dripping sarcasm.
The enforcers turned and vanished into the crowd, their cloaks trailing like smoke.
âWhat. Just. Happened.â
The stranger didnât answer. He grabbed her wrist and tugged.
âCome on,â he muttered. âJust pretend you know me. Keep walking.â
She stumbled after him, heart still hammering.
âI donât even know you!â
âShut up if you want to live to see another dayâ he shot back quietly, not looking at her.
Who is this guy? Why is he helping me? What almost happened there, heâs acting like they would have killed me on the spot.
