Emily blinked, the purplish mist seeming to linger in her vision as if she were wearing tinted glasses. In the distance, she could hear people talking quickly. Their voices were too muffled to make out any of what they were saying or who they belonged to. She looked around, trying to rub the mist away from her eyes, to no avail.

She stood alone on a patch of thick moss, a swamp sprawling out before her. Faintly, insects buzzed around, the smell of foetid water filling her nostrils. It must be some time around dusk, she thought as she saw a deep orange glow beneath huge, towering black trees. All of them were devoid of leaves, black skeletons stretching towards the dark, stormy sky. Where in the world was she?

From behind her, there was a squark, a crow three times the size of any she had ever seen, swooping just past her head as she ducked instinctively. It seemed to hover in the air for a moment, almost hummingbird-like, before turning and slowly flying between the trees in the direction of the sunset. 'Hello?' she called out, her voice carrying in the near-perfect silence.

There was no response. At her call, a compulsion found its way into her, calling her forward and asking her to follow in the path of the raven. She took a step forward, the moss springing beneath her feet. Looking down at the ground, she tried to avoid the murky puddles, but her legs wouldn't comply with her wishes, instead stepping straight into the ice-cold water. She was helpless, like a puppet on the strings of whatever was calling her forward.

'This place is not meant for you,' a cold voice whispered. She shivered.

'Where am I? Why am I here?' she asked, the compulsion pulling her deeper into the dead forest.

'You have entered my domain when it is not yet your turn.'

'Who are you?'

'I am the Sheppard of the Lost Souls. You are beyond the veil, but you should not be here,' the voice said quietly, seeming to circle around her as if examining her.

'I'm dead?' she asked. 'Whatever that was on Edmund's desk killed me?'

'You are in the process of passing, but you should not be; it was not written in the great web of future paths.'

The compulsion that had been pulling her forward retreated, leaving her to stand on her own accord. Before her, the crow she had seen sat on a low branch, and several others scattered in the dead trees watched her intently. On a large mossy mound, there was a tangle of branches forming what looked like a giant bird nest. She couldn't see what, but from within there was a soft, warm golden glow emanating.

'A choice to be made is at hand, Emily Bridwell,' the voice said, now directly ahead of her. Slowly, with the cracking of branches, a figure rose up from within the nest. It was humanoid, eight or nine feet tall, at a guess. The shadows flitted across it, and she saw dark wings tucked at the back of the figure. Staring down at her were two empty black eyes set above the beak of a crow. Instead of feathers, there was long black hair that seemed to shimmer in the setting sun and skin as pale as that of the dead.

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'What do you mean? Do I have a choice about whether I die or not?' she asked. Under the figure with the crow head, the gold glow pulsed softly.

'Very few have a choice in their fate. Your fate is intertwined with that of many, some of which you have known and some of which you are yet to meet, should you choose to return,' they said, nodding down into the nest ever so slightly.

'Why do I get to choose if others don't?'

'For aeons we walked amongst the living, doing our best to guide them, but we failed them. Taking ourselves out of their reach, they were forced to find their own way,' they said. 'Balance is the greatest force that exists, and the balance between good and evil is one that exists delicately. There are those out there who seek to disrupt that balance so greatly that only through intervention may it be possible to prevent the scales tipping beyond the point of recovery.'

'You're talking about the return of Tristan, aren't you?' she asked.

'Not only does his return threaten to break the scales that measure the balance between good and evil, but he also threatens to disrupt the natural order of the world. Every day the sun rises and sets, people celebrate birth and mourn death. I have seen what will become of your world if he succeeds. My death will be but the first of many, thousands upon thousands, until there is nothing and no one left to oppose him. I will not allow for it; death must continue, as it always has for as long as history itself has existed.'

'Why do you need me, though? I can't stop him,' Emily said. She could feel her head pounding; the information she was being given overwhelmed her.

'It is not about you stopping him. You carry with you the catalyst that will be his demise,' they said, once again nodding to the glow within the nest. 'Without you, he will be lost, and he will remain trapped, imprisoned by the shadows that torment his mind. You must give him reason and a purpose to fight for.'

'You make it sound like I don't actually have a choice in whether I go back or not,' Emily said.

'Of course, you have a choice; we all do,' they said. Taking a step back onto the edge of the nest, they nodded once more to whatever was within it. 'You can take as long as you like; time does not move here as it does elsewhere. Before you decide, I would urge you to see what lies within. I will know when you have decided.'

With one final nod to the nest, they spread their wings and took flight, heading in the direction of the setting sun. A series of squarks echoed around her as each of the other crows also took flight, one after another, following their path between the trees until Emily stood entirely alone.

She rubbed her temples, the information overload pressing in on her like a crowd swarming her. Before she had a chance to move of her own accord, the compulsion returned, carrying her forward towards the nest. The golden glow grew brighter, warmth spilling over her as it fell on her like the rays of a summer sun.

The light was almost blinding for a moment as she first laid eyes on it, deep within the huge nest. Slowly, it began to subside, revealing a bundle in a white gold blanket and a child, unmoving and sleeping soundly, blissfully unaware of the gravity with which it was imparting on her.

For what felt like an eternity, she stared down at the baby, swaddled in the blanket at the bottom of the nest. She hadn't thought much of the hunger that had overtaken her in the past few days, but now she wondered. Was this real or a ploy solely with the intent of convincing her that she needed to return to the life she had been leading?

She didn't know for how long she stood there, deliberating the meaning of it all, before she looked up towards the setting sun. 'I have to go back, don't I?' she asked quietly.

There was no reply. The sun, which seemed to have been held in place, perpetually setting, suddenly began to move, setting rapidly until she stood in darkness. The faint golden glow from the blanket, the only light before that too, disappeared, and there was nothing but darkness and silence.