Episode 6 + 1 - Crisis Is Nigh
540 Words
Morning came. Birds chirping, thin and bright, stitching the quiet into the forest.
She exited her room barefoot. The floorboards were cold under her feet. She called again. Louder. "Prince Grumpy?" Her voice bounced off small walls and died before it reached the eaves.
No answer. Only echo.
Her mother appeared behind her. Straight back. Arms folded. Face carved from stone. No softness. No sleep. No lie hiding behind her eyes.
"He's gone," she said. Voice flat. Certain. Final. "And so are his powers."
Ayla blinked. "What?"
Confusion first. A dumb, weightless thing. Then fear, quick and cold in her stomach. Then something sharper she couldn’t name. A pull. A tug under her ribs like a string pulled taut.
Her mother gestured to the table. "Sit."
Ayla sat. Hands in her lap. The wood was warm from morning sun cutting through the window. It felt wrong. The house felt wrong without the sound of him moving in the other room.
Her mother sat opposite. Eyes sharp. Measuring. Knowing. "This is what I've been preparing you for."
"For what?" Ayla's voice cracked. She hated how small it sounded.
"The time of manifestation is nigh," her mother said. "Crisis is nigh."
Ayla shook her head. Her hair fell forward, wild from sleep. "What has that to do with me? The Elemento? He lost his sigil. Not me. I’m a forest girl. Nothing more."
Her mother leaned forward. The table between them suddenly felt too narrow. "You share an intimate divine connection," she said. "Even I cannot put asunder."
The words landed like stones in water. Heavy. Rippling.
Ayla's chest tightened until breathing hurt. "What connection? He was angry at me. He called me human. He accused me. He.."
"In time you'll understand," her mother cut in. Softer now. Not cold. Tired. "But now, my child, your journey begins."
"Journey?" Ayla echoed. The word felt foreign. "To where?"
Her mother's gaze didn’t waver. It held. "The Fortress."
The word hit the room like a bell. It rang in the walls, in Ayla’s teeth.
Ayla went still. Her hands stopped fidgeting. "The Fortress? No one goes to the Fortress. It's forbidden. It's.."
"It's where the land remembers," her mother said. "And where it will choose."
Choose what? Ayla wanted to ask. The question burned her tongue. But her throat closed. Because outside, the birds stopped singing. All at once. One breath, and the forest went mute.
Silence pressed down. Thick. Expectant.
Her mother stood. The chair scraped once. "Pack nothing. Take only yourself." She moved to the door. Hand on the latch. Her knuckles were white. "He felt it too. The tether. That’s why the necklace pulsed. That’s why he fell."
Ayla rose slow. Legs shaky, as if the floor had tilted. "You knew. All along."
Her mother didn’t turn. Her shoulders were rigid. "I hoped I was wrong."
She opened the door. Light flooded in. Harsh. White. It bleached the room, the table, Ayla’s skin. Beyond it, the forest waited. Still. Silent. Like it was holding its breath for her.
And at the tree line, something moved. Not wind. Not bird. Shape. Tall. Still. Watching.
Her mother’s voice dropped to a whisper, barely louder than the light. “Your journey begins now.”
- Writer
