Hazel's Point of View
The hum of the bus engine and the steady rhythm of tires on asphalt blends with the chatter of my students, their voices light and filled with excitement. I sit near the front, the afternoon sun casting golden light through the windows, warming my arm where it rests on the edge of my seat. Valerie is beside me, flipping through photos she took on her phone of the students outside the cave, mostly selfies if I had to guess.
My gaze drifts out the window, watching the trees blur past, thinking back to that cave and the creature Serina found etched in stone, the red eyes still vivid in my mind. There was power in that cave. Old, buried, whispering through the cracks in the rock. The moment I stepped inside, I felt it. And Serina’s sketch only confirmed it. That figure
