Fern
Eventually I drifted off to sleep. I am not sure of the hour, but all I know is that at some point the fear drifted away and sleep came.
In my dreams, I saw nothing but silver. It is hard to describe, but it wasn't a light. No, this was something thicker, almost solid. Like a living mist that was calling my name.
"Fern." It whispered into nothing.
My eyes flicker open and I'm standing barefoot on stone that glows faintly beneath my feet, etched with symbols I don't recognize but somehow feel. The sky above me isn't dark or bright. It's a constant twilight, with the moon hanging low and impossibly close, so large it makes my chest ache.
"Little fern," a voice whispers again.
It doesn't come from anywhere. It's everywhere. It seems to consume every cell in my body. I
