Midnight Thorns

CHAPTER 3- BLOOD & GLASS

The city knew before Soraya did.

By sunrise, the witches of Ashveldt had already begun whispering.

In the oldest district, where buildings leaned against one another like tired old women and the streets were paved with stones older than the city itself, candles extinguished themselves.

One after another.

In homes.

In temples.

In underground sanctums hidden beneath restaurants, churches, hotels, and abandoned train stations.

The flames went out.

Then the mirrors cracked.

Not shattered.

Cracked.

A single line running down the center of every reflection.

And in every mirror, for less than a second...

A girl appeared.

Dark hair.

Crimson lips.

Eyes like a storm before lightning.

A silver thorn glowing around her wrist.

Then the reflection returned to normal.

Most people blamed faulty glass.

The witches knew better.

They had been waiting.

Some had been waiting for centuries.

Others had inherited the waiting from mothers who had inherited it from grandmothers.

The oldest among them had known that one day the Crimson Thorn would awaken.

They had simply never agreed on what they would do when she did.

Some wanted to protect her.

Some wanted to control her.

Some wanted to kill her before the old prophecy could be fulfilled.

And some...

Had been waiting for her to come home.

At 8:13 in the morning, a woman in a white coat dropped a porcelain cup in the middle of a crowded hospital.

At 8:14, a man in a suit stopped in the middle of a business meeting and stared at the window.

At 8:15, three children in different parts of the city woke from the same dream.

A white tree.

A field of midnight roses.

And a girl standing beneath the branches.

By 8:30, the first rumor had reached the underground.

By 9:00, it had become a warning.

By noon, the entire magical world knew.

The Guardian had returned.

But Soraya knew none of this.

She was asleep.

For the first time in years, she slept without dreaming.

No burning buildings.

No faceless figures.

No hands reaching for her through the dark.

No whispers telling her to run.

Instead, there was only silence.

Deep.

Heavy.

Almost peaceful.

Then something tugged at her wrist.

Soraya opened her eyes.

For several seconds, she didn't move.

The ceiling above her was unfamiliar.

White.

Too white.

She sat up abruptly.

The room came back to her in pieces.

The Garden.

Elowen.

The White Thorn Tree.

The hooded stranger.

The crimson ribbon.

Elias.

Her hand flew to her wrist.

The ribbon was still there.

She stared at it.

For one terrifying moment, she wondered if everything had been a dream.

Then the ribbon pulsed.

Once.

Warm against her skin.

Soraya exhaled.

Not a dream.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed.

The room she was in belonged to Elowen.

It was small compared to the vastness of the Garden, but beautiful in a way Soraya wasn't used to.

There were no sharp corners.

No black walls.

No locked doors.

Sunlight spilled through sheer curtains and illuminated dozens of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling.

Bundles of lavender.

Rosemary.

Something Soraya didn't recognize that moved slightly even though there was no breeze.

She stared at it.

The plant stared back.

Soraya blinked.

The plant blinked.

She stood very slowly.

"No."

The plant tilted toward her.

"No."

It tilted farther.

Soraya grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it.

The plant shrieked.

Soraya screamed.

The door flew open.

Elias appeared with a blade in one hand.

Elowen appeared behind him holding a steaming cup of tea.

Both froze.

Soraya pointed at the plant.

"That thing looked at me."

Elias glanced at the plant.

Then at her.

"You're going to have to be more specific."

"The plant."

"There are forty-three plants in this room."

"The creepy one."

"That narrows it down to forty-two."

Soraya stared at him.

Elias lowered the blade.

"You're awake."

"Unfortunately."

Elowen stepped into the room.

"How do you feel?"

Soraya considered lying.

She was good at lying.

It had kept her alive.

But Elowen was looking at her with the kind of concern Soraya had spent years pretending she didn't need.

"Tired."

Elowen nodded.

"That is expected."

"And confused."

"Also expected."

"And angry."

Elowen paused.

"That is probably expected too."

Soraya looked between them.

"Good. At least I'm consistent."

Elias leaned against the doorframe.

"You forgot terrified."

Soraya's eyes moved toward him.

"I didn't forget."

Something shifted in his expression.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

He looked different in the morning.

Less dangerous.

That annoyed her.

The night had suited him.

Darkness made it easier to pretend he was a mystery.

In daylight, he looked almost human.

Almost.

She hated that she noticed.

Elias noticed her noticing.

His mouth twitched.

Soraya narrowed her eyes.

"Don't."

"I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking something."

"You're not the only one who can do that."

She grabbed the pillow again.

He raised both hands.

"Peace."

Elowen sighed.

"You two are exhausting."

"We just met," Soraya said.

"That is what concerns me."

Soraya looked down at the ribbon around her wrist.

"What happened after the stranger left?"

Elowen's expression changed.

"The Garden closed."

"On us?"

"To protect you."

"From what?"

Elowen exchanged a look with Elias.

Soraya immediately noticed.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Look at each other like there's a conversation happening that I'm not invited to."

Elias straightened.

Elowen sighed.

"Something woke beneath the Garden."

Soraya's stomach tightened.

"The heartbeat."

Elowen nodded.

"You heard it."

"Three of them."

"Three?"

Elias looked at Elowen.

She nodded slowly.

"The first belongs to the Garden."

"The second?"

"The old magic."

Soraya's mouth went dry.

"And the third?"

Elowen looked at her.

"We don't know."

A silence settled over the room.

The ribbon around Soraya's wrist suddenly tightened.

Not enough to hurt.

Enough to warn.

The plant in the corner turned toward the window.

Elias's hand went immediately to his blade.

Soraya felt it before she heard it.

A presence.

Outside.

Watching.

She walked toward the window.

"Don't."

Elias's voice was immediate.

Soraya stopped.

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

She slowly turned around.

"That was a terrible answer."

"I know."

"Try again."

"Something is watching the house."

"How long?"

"Since we arrived."

Soraya looked at Elowen.

"You knew?"

"We suspected."

"You suspected someone was watching us and no one thought to mention it?"

Elowen raised the tea in her hand.

"I was going to."

"When?"

"After breakfast."

Soraya stared at her.

Elias looked away.

The plant in the corner made a sound that suspiciously resembled a cough.

Soraya slowly approached the window.

The city of Ashveldt stretched beyond the glass.

Buildings.

Traffic.

Smoke.

People rushing through streets, completely unaware of the world hidden beneath their feet.

Everything looked normal.

But Soraya knew better now.

There were monsters in the shadows.

Witches behind locked doors.

Ancient powers beneath the city.

And somewhere...

Someone was watching her.

Then she saw it.

Across the street.

On the roof of a building.

A figure stood perfectly still.

Black coat.

Pale face.

Watching.

Soraya's breath caught.

The figure lifted one hand.

A silver thorn appeared between their fingers.

Then they smiled.

And stepped backward into thin air.

Gone.

Soraya didn't move.

Elias came to stand beside her.

"What did you see?"

She stared at the empty rooftop.

"The city."

His eyes narrowed.

"No."

Soraya looked at him.

"The city saw me."

Far below them, in the streets of Ashveldt...

Every mirror cracked.

And somewhere beneath the city...

A man opened his eyes.

Soraya remained at the window long after the figure disappeared.

The rooftop was empty.

The street below was not.

Cars moved through the intersection. People crossed beneath umbrellas. A woman hurried out of a café with a paper cup in one hand and her phone pressed to her ear.

Normal.

The city continued breathing.

It didn't know that something ancient had awakened beneath it.

It didn't know that a war had begun.

Or perhaps...

It knew.

Perhaps Ashveldt had always known.

Perhaps the city had simply been waiting for Soraya to remember.

"You're doing it again."

Elias's voice pulled her from her thoughts.

She turned.

"Doing what?"

"Standing completely still and staring at something like you're trying to murder it with your mind."

"It usually works."

"Should I be concerned?"

"Always."

He almost smiled.

Almost.

Elowen set the teacup on the table.

"Come. Both of you."

Soraya glanced at the tea.

"I don't drink tea."

"Of course you do."

"I don't."

Elowen gave her a look.

Soraya stared back.

Something strange happened.

The memory arrived without pain.

A little girl sitting beneath the White Thorn Tree.

A warm cup between both hands.

A woman beside her.

"Too hot," young Soraya complained.

"You said that yesterday."

"It was too hot yesterday too."

Elowen laughed.

The memory disappeared.

Soraya's fingers tightened around the edge of the table.

Elowen saw.

"You remembered something."

Soraya nodded slowly.

"Tea."

A smile touched Elowen's lips.

"You hated it."

"I still do."

"You used to add so much honey that it wasn't really tea anymore."

"That sounds like something I would do."

"Yes."

Soraya looked down.

For a few seconds, the room was quiet.

Then the pain came.

Not sharp.

Not violent.

Just a hollow ache.

She had missed so much.

Birthdays.

Laughter.

Arguments.

A childhood she had been forced to forget.

And now every recovered memory felt like being reunited with something that had already been taken from her twice.

Once when she lost it.

And again when she remembered it.

Elias watched her carefully.

"You don't have to remember everything today."

Soraya looked at him.

"That's easy for you to say."

"No."

His voice was quieter now.

"It isn't."

She noticed the way his hand moved unconsciously toward his chest.

Toward the mark beneath his skin.

Soraya's expression softened.

"You remember your brother?"

Elias went still.

The question had been gentle.

It still struck him like a blade.

"Every day."

"Even after the ritual?"

"Especially after."

Soraya waited.

He didn't elaborate.

For once, she didn't push.

Elowen looked between them.

"The past is not always a gift."

Soraya gave a quiet, humorless laugh.

"Neither is the present."

The house trembled.

The teacup on the table rattled.

The plants hanging from the ceiling all turned toward the same direction.

The window.

Elias was already moving.

Soraya felt the shift in the air.

A pressure.

A warning.

Then every light in the house went out.

Darkness swallowed the room.

Elowen stood.

"Nobody move."

Soraya's eyes adjusted slowly.

She could hear Elias breathing beside her.

Could feel the heat of him.

Then—

A knock sounded at the front door.

Three times.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Soraya looked at Elowen.

"Are you expecting someone?"

"No."

Another knock.

This time, the sound echoed through the entire house.

Elias drew his blade.

"Whoever it is knows we're here."

Soraya's magic stirred beneath her skin.

"Then let them in."

Elowen's expression hardened.

"No."

Soraya turned toward her.

"No?"

"That is not a person at the door."

The third knock came.

The walls groaned.

A thin line of black liquid began seeping beneath the door.

Soraya stared at it.

"What is that?"

Elowen's face went pale.

"Blood."

The liquid continued spreading across the floor.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

It formed a symbol.

A circle.

Thirteen lines extending from its center.

Soraya felt the ribbon around her wrist burn.

Elias looked down at the symbol.

His face changed.

"You know it."

He didn't answer.

Soraya turned to him.

"Elias."

His jaw tightened.

"I've seen it before."

"Where?"

"On the ritual."

The room went silent.

The symbol pulsed.

Once.

Twice.

Then a voice spoke from the other side of the door.

A man's voice.

Low.

Calm.

Almost amused.

"Elias."

Elias went completely still.

The voice continued.

"You've been difficult to find."

Soraya looked at him.

His face had gone utterly pale.

She had never seen him look afraid before.

Not truly afraid.

The voice laughed softly.

"Did you really think I wouldn't know when you found her?"

Elias took one step backward.

Soraya grabbed his arm.

"What is it?"

He looked at her.

For the first time since they met...

There was no mystery in his eyes.

Only terror.

"My brother."

The blood beneath the door began moving.

The symbol twisted.

The thirteen lines became thorns.

And the voice outside whispered—

"Open the door, Elias."

A pause.

"I want to see what you chose instead of me."