Katherina

Window To The Past

She ran as though her life depended on every frantic step, barefoot through the dense, unforgiving forest. Jagged thorns and hidden stones tore into the soles of her feet, leaving blood to drip down, leaving more traces, but she didn't dare slow down. Branches clawed at her skin, tangled in her hair, and whipped across her face as she forced her way through the darkness. The moonlight was so dim she couldn't see through it.

The forest echoed with the eerie chorus of the night, the shrill whistles of unseen birds, the haunting hoots of owls. Every sound sent another wave of terror down her spine. Her cloth was drenched with blood, her fair face had marks of blood stains all over, but not from her.

They were hunting her down.

Her lungs burned. Her chest tightened with every desperate breath until she could run no farther. She stumbled to a stop, bending over with trembling hands on her knees as she fought to catch her breath. After a few agonising seconds, she slowly turned around.

Nothing.

The path behind her was swallowed by darkness.

Whoever, had been chasing her was no longer there.

A deafening gasp ripped through the silence.

She jolted upright in bed, her heart hammering violently against her chest. She turned around frantically, but she was in her bedroom. Sweat formed all over her forehead like beads; her skin was slightly drenched too, her eyes darting from the window to the bedroom door. It was still her room, the familiar pale-blue walls. The old wooden wardrobe stood quietly in the corner. The tiny rays of morning sunlight slipping through the curtains. She was home.

"It... it was just a dream," she whispered, pressing a trembling hand against her chest. She let out a shaky laugh, trying to convince herself, though the pounding in her heart refused to settle. It had felt so real, the atmosphere, the cold air, the blood beneath her feet... and those unseen hunters. It felt like she had been there before.

A sharp knock echoed from downstairs.

"You're going to be late for school!" her mother called. The voice snapped her back to reality. "I'm coming!"

She climbed out of bed, slid her legs into her fluffy pink slippers, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before making her way to the bathroom. The cool water against her face washed away the last traces of the nightmare, or so she hoped.

After a while, she came out of the bathroom wrapped in a white towel from her upper chest down to her knees. A few minutes passed by; she was dressed in her school uniform, her backpack slung over one shoulder. After a hurried breakfast and a quick goodbye to her mother, she stepped outside into the crisp morning air.

The morning air was crisp and clean, carrying the sweet scent of dew-kissed grass and the distant hum of the city waking up. Rose walked along the familiar path to Veridia High, her sneakers scuffing against the cracked pavement. The nightmare still clung to her like a second skin, the phantom sensation of blood between her toes and the echo of unseen hunters lurking in the shadows.

It was just a dream, she repeated to herself for the hundredth time. Just a stupid dream.

As she kept walking, her reflection in a shop window made her pause. For just a split second, she could have sworn the girl staring back at her had different eyes, older, wearier, and stained with the weight of centuries. She blinked, and it was gone.

"Get a grip, Rose," she muttered, shaking her head.

The school day dragged on like molasses. Rose couldn't focus on a single word her teachers said. History class, ironically, was the worst. Mr Patterson droned on about the "Great Witch Hunts of the 13th Century," and Rose felt a chill crawl down her spine that had nothing to do with the air conditioning.

They burned them. They burned them all.

The thought came unbidden, sharp and angry, as if someone else had placed it in her mind. She gripped her pen so hard it nearly snapped.

At lunch, she found Elira sitting at their usual spot beneath the old oak tree at the edge of the campus. But something was different about her best friend today. Elira's usual bubbly energy was replaced by a jittery, electric tension. She kept glancing around, her fingers drumming against the table, her eyes wide and unfocused.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Rose said as she walked close to her, dropping her tray and sliding onto the bench. "Bad night too?"

Elira's head snapped toward her. "What? No. I mean, yes. I mean..." She bit her lip, her eyes darting nervously. "Rose, I need to tell you something. Something important. But you have to promise you won't freak out."

Rose raised an eyebrow. "You're kind of freaking me out right now."

"I'm dead ass serious," Elira insisted, leaning closer. Her voice dropped to a frantic whisper. "I found something. In my grandmother's attic. Something she left for me before she... before she passed."

Rose's stomach tightened. Elira's grandmother had died under mysterious circumstances three years ago. Elira never talked about it. "What did you find?"

Elira's hands were trembling as she unzipped her backpack. She pulled out a worn leather journal, its cover cracked and stained with what looked like dried wax. The pages were yellowed and frayed at the edges. It was bound with a strange, silvery thread that seemed to catch the light in a way that was almost... unnatural.

"This," Elira breathed, sliding it across the table toward Rose. "It's a grimoire. A spell book. My grandmother's." "So what does that mean? She was a.." Rose said and paused, unsure of what to say next. "Yeah, a witch she was a witch"

Rose stared at the book, then at her friend. "A spell book? Like... for real? Elira, what are you"

"Just look at it!" Elira hissed, flipping it open. The pages were filled with elegant, looping script in a language Rose didn't recognise. Strange symbols and intricate diagrams decorated the margins. Some pages were smudged with what looked suspiciously like dried blood.

"I don't understand," Rose said slowly, her heart beginning to race. "So does that mean you are also one?" Rose asked, staring deeply at her. "Not at all, haven't noticed anything, I don't think so", Elira replied. "Then let's test it", Rose said to break the silence. Elira wasn't expecting that. "What?" Elira said, "Hell no". "I'll watch out for you". Rose said, "Fine, but trust me I'm not', Elira said as she began looking through the book for an easy spell to do, that's if she was even a witch. "okay lets try the revival spell, a spell to bring mostly dead plants and flowers to life" Elira said reluctantly, "Good" Rose said filled with excitement in her face, Elira turned to a dying flower pot beside them, stretched her hand and her palm wide open, stared at it for a while and read out the spell in the book.

"Per aquam et lucem, per terram et spiritum, revivisco"

The words hung in the air like a thundercloud, heavy and charged.

But nothing happened; the plant still looked dying, and the excitement on Rose faced dropped. "Told ya, ain't got powers or witchy stuffs", Elira said. "Hmm, yeah?" Rose added, "but it's surprising how my grandma..." Rose cut her off as she was talking, "Elira, Elira, Elira" Rose called out her name, "What, what, what, Rose?", Elira replied angrily, "Look", Rose said pointing to the direction of the flower pot, 'Oh My God", Elira exclaimed out, "how is that possible", Elira was still in shock, "You are a witch too", Rose added, 'wow", Elira said and stared at Rose.

"Elira," Rose said carefully, "But this isn't making any sense. Witches aren't real; they..." "That's exactly what I taught," but look at this," Elira interrupted, flipping to a page near the middle of the book. "Read this."

Rose leaned in. The handwriting here was even older, more faded. But the words were in English.

"To the last of my blood, I leave the truth you have always carried within you. The power is not a curse, my child, but a gift. Use it wisely. Guard it fiercely. And never, ever let them find you."

Beneath the words was a symbol, a crescent moon pierced by a single star, with a flame burning at its centre.

"This is the mark of my family," Elira whispered. "I've seen it so many times; now it makes sense" "It's the Crescent Flame. It's been in secret for centuries, Rose. Because they hunted us. The Sacred Saints. They killed my ancestors. They almost killed all of us."

The air around them suddenly felt thin. Rose's mind was reeling, trying to process what Elira was telling her. But then she remembered her nightmare. The running. The blood. The hunters.

The Sacred Saints.

"But girl,l this can't be real. You telling me witches existed a long time ago?" Rose asked as they both stood up from the bench. "Besides, it was just a story. A legend. A tale to scare little children. Mr Patterson always tells us that" But Elira's eyes were filled with the kind of terror that came from something deeply, profoundly real.

"Okay," Rose said slowly, her voice steadier than she expected. "Okay. Let's say I believe you. What do you want to do about it?"

Elira exhaled a shaky breath. "There's a spell in here. A simple one. My grandmother wrote that it can create a window to the past. To see what really happened. To see them. The Saints. The war. All of it."

Rose's blood ran cold. "You want to cast a spell? Elira, you've never done magic before. Today was your first, and you don't even know if.."

"I feel it, Rose," Elira cut her off, her voice fierce with certainty. "I've felt it my whole life; I just didn't know what it was. It's like... like there's a fire inside me, burning to get out. I need to understand. I need to know who I am. What I am."

Rose looked at her best friend, really looked at her. She saw the fear, yes. But she also saw the longing. The desperate need for answers. For a connection to a family she'd barely known.

"Okay," Rose said again, softer this time. "Okay. I'm with you. Whatever you need." Elira's face broke into a relieved, tearful smile. "Really?"

"Really. But we're not doing this here." Rose glanced around the crowded school courtyard. "Tonight. My place. My parents are working late."

Elira nodded, clutching the grimoire to her chest like it was a lifeline. "Tonight."

The hours crawled by. Rose couldn't focus on anything. The nightmare, Elira's revelation, the ancient book, it all swirled together into a chaotic storm in her mind. By the time the final school bell rang, she was practically vibrating with nervous energy.

She and Elira walked home in tense silence, the grimoire hidden deep inside Elira's backpack. They didn't speak until they were safely inside Rose's house, the door locked behind them.

Rose's parents wouldn't be home until midnight. They had three hours. Three hours to change everything.

"Okay," Rose said, "here goes nothing", her heart pounding. "Show me."

Elira laid the grimoire on Rose's bedroom floor and flipped it open to a page marked with a crimson ribbon. The spell was written in that same ancient language, but a translation had been scribbled in the margins in Elira's grandmother's handwriting.

"The Veil Unwoven: A Window to the Past."

The ingredients were simple enough: candles, salt, a lock of hair from the caster, and an anchor object "of great personal significance."

"I have the hair," Elira said, producing a small lock wrapped in tissue paper. "It was my grandmother's. And the candles and salt are in my bag."

"What about the anchor?" Rose asked. "What does that even mean"

Elira's cheeks flushed slightly. "That's... that's kind of where you come in. The anchor has to be something that connects the caster to the past. A family heirloom or" She stopped abruptly, her eyes fixed on Rose's neck. Rose reached up instinctively and touched the silver locket she always wore. Elira stared at it and at the book. "Oh my, it's the perfect match"

It had been a gift from her own grandmother, a simple, unassuming piece of jewellery. "Rose," Elira breathed. "That locket. Where did you get it?" "My grandmother gave it to me before she died," Rose said slowly. "Why?"

Elira's eyes went wide. "It's in the grimoire. It's..." She reached for the locket, her fingers trembling. "Rose, that's not just a locket. It's a saint's seal. A mark of protection. Against the Sacred Saints."

Rose's blood froze in her veins. "What? Girl, nahhh don't drag me into that!" "Your grandmother was one of them," Elira whispered, horrified. "She was a Saint. Or... or she was a descendant of one. Rose, your family"

"My family what?" Rose demanded, her voice sharp with disbelief. "I'm not, I'm just, I'm normal, Elira. I'm nothing special."

Elira stared at her, a strange, dawning realisation spreading across her face. "That nightmare you had. The running. The blood. You said it felt real."

Rose's throat went dry. "So?"

"So, what if it was real?" Elira said, her voice barely a whisper. "What if you're not just a normal girl? What if you're connected to them too? To the past?" "Okay, now you are scaring, let just do the damn spell and get on with it. There's nothing special with me and the locket, okay. Now the spell, and what do I have to do' Elira nodded slowly. "Okay. Okay, then. Let's do it."

An hour later, Rose's bedroom had been transformed. A circle of salt surrounded them, candles flickering at each of the cardinal points. The grimoire lay open in the centre, its pages glowing faintly in the dim light.

Elira knelt before the book, her grandmother's lock of hair clutched in one hand. Rose knelt across from her, the locket held tightly in her palm.

"Are you ready?" Elira asked, her voice trembling.

Rose took a deep breath. "Ready."

Elira began to chant, the words rolling off her tongue in a language that was ancient and powerful. The candles flickered wildly. The shadows in the room seemed to stretch and writhe. Rose felt a cold energy building in the air, pressing against her skin like the static before a storm.

And then the locket in her hand began to glow.

White-hot light burst from the silver, flooding the room. A wild storm of breeze blew from the windows in her bedroom. Rose gasped, trying to drop it, but her fingers were frozen. The light spread outward, engulfing them both, and suddenly the world tilted, spun, and then.

Darkness.