ECHOES OF THE ANCIENT

THE BUSH

The next morning, the house seemed ordinary again. Sunlight spilled across the wooden floor, warming the walls and chasing away the memory of whispers. Blessing almost convinced herself that she had dreamed it. Almost.

After breakfast, her grandmother handed her a small broom. “Sweep the yard,” she said. “Clear the leaves before they gather too thick.”

Blessing obeyed, humming softly as she worked. But as she neared the back of the house, her humming faltered. The bush loomed larger in daylight, its branches tangled like fingers reaching out. Birds perched high within it, yet none dared flutter too close to the ground beneath.

She paused, staring. Something about the soil beneath the bush seemed wrong—too dark, as if charred long ago.

“Child!” Her grandmother’s voice snapped like a whip. Blessing jumped and turned to see her standing at the doorway, her face stern. “Stay away from there.”

Blessing frowned. “It’s just a bush.”

Her grandmother’s eyes hardened. “Some things are not what they seem. Remember my words.”

The warning should have been enough, but curiosity took root in Blessing’s heart. Later that day, while her grandmother napped, she crept back outside. The bush rustled as though it had been waiting for her.

Blessing crouched low, peering beneath its branches. The soil looked freshly disturbed, though no one had touched it. She reached out a hand, brushing the dirt with her fingers.

The whispers returned. Faint. Murmuring. A shiver climbed her spine.

She jerked her hand back, stumbling to her feet. Her breath quickened, and when she looked up—

A shadow shifted. It stood at the edge of the bush, shaped like a man yet without form, darker than any shade cast by the sun.

Blessing’s throat tightened. The figure did not move closer, but she felt its gaze press against her skin like ice.

“Who are you?” she whispered before she could stop herself.

The wind carried the faintest reply. A single word, stretched thin as smoke:

“Remember.”

Blessing stumbled backward, her heart hammering. She dashed inside, slamming the door shut behind her.

Her grandmother was awake now, watching with weary eyes. “You saw it, didn’t you?”

Blessing could only nod.

Her grandmother sighed heavily, as though a burden she had long feared had finally returned. “Then it has begun.”