The late afternoon sun bathed Windfield in a warm, golden glow as Emma stepped out of Anna’s oak treehouse. The structure, built seamlessly into the ancient tree, radiated a soft, magical hum, its surface etched with runes that pulsed faintly with each passing moment. Anna waved from her wheelchair by the window, her delicate fingers resting lightly on the wooden frame.
"Thanks for visiting, Emma," Anna said, her voice carrying a warmth that felt like home.
Emma adjusted her ash gown and gave a small wave back. "Thank you, Anna. I’ll see you soon!"
As she turned walking away from Anna's house onto the cobblestone path, the town of Windfield unfolded before her. The streets, lined with homes that seemed to grow naturally out of the earth, were alive with the faint hum of magic. Elven-crafted lanterns hung from curved iron posts, ready to illuminate the evening. Gardens overflowed with vibrant, otherworldly plants, their petals shimmering like jewels in the fading sunlight.
Emma’s steps were unhurried as she walked through the serene streets, the gentle chirping of birds providing a soft melody in the background. She found herself savoring the moment.. the crisp air, the earthy scent of freshly tilled soil mingling with the sweet aroma of blooming flowers. Windfield felt timeless, a place of beauty and wonders.
By the time she reached her family’s gate, the shadows had grown longer, stretching lazily across the cobblestones. Emma paused, placing a hand on the wooden gate, its surface worn smooth by years of use. Vines of ivy crept along its edges, their leaves glistening with dewdrops that caught the light like tiny prisms.
Pushing the gate open, she stepped into her mother’s garden. It was a masterpiece of vibrant life... flowers of every hue danced in the soft breeze, their petals glowing faintly with magical energy. Bees buzzed lazily around the blossoms, and the air was filled with the soothing rustle of leaves.
Emma let out a small sigh of contentment. Home.
But the stillness of the house caught her attention. There were no voices, no laughter echoing from within. The windows, usually open to let in the evening air, were closed, their curtains drawn.
They’re not back yet, Emma thought, a pang of disappointment settling in her chest. Her parents, Vivian and Derrick, must still be at their occasion, and her elder sister Ellie likely hadn’t returned from school. As for Ethan, her twin brother, he was probably still at his private magic lessons.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Her gaze drifted toward the small wooden cottage tucked behind the house. A modest structure with little moss creeping along its frame, it blended almost seamlessly with the garden. It was there that the magical egg rested, a peculiar artifact she had retrieved from the artificial dungeon in Eldo-Clearoth Kingdom during the Royal Bookstore Opening.
The memory of that day flashed through her mind... the tension, the danger, she felt when she first laid eyes on the egg. Now, it sat nestled in the cottage, surrounded by straw and moss, its mysterious aura a constant source of intrigue.
Emma found her feet moving toward the cottage almost without thinking. She had visited it a few times since bringing the egg home, drawn to the strange pull it seemed to exert on her.
As she approached, something stopped her in her tracks.
The door to the cottage, always kept firmly shut, was ajar. It swayed gently, creaking faintly as if teased by an unseen breeze..
That door was locked, she thought, her mind slightly racing. She took a cautious step closer, the crunch of moist dirt beneath her feet sounding unnaturally loud in the stillness.
The glow of the setting sun cast long, slanted shadows across the dry grass inside the cottage. From where she stood, Emma could see the faint shimmer of the magical egg resting on the ground. But something about the scene felt... wrong.
The air grew colder as she reached the doorway. Her fingers hovered over the edge of the door, hesitating. The once-familiar space now felt foreign, as if something had shifted in her absence.
She pushed the door open wider.
Inside, the light streaming through the small windows illuminated the room in uneven patches. Yet the atmosphere felt heavy, as though the cottage itself was holding its breath.
Emma’s eyes locked onto the egg.
At first glance, it looked the same... its surface smooth and glistening faintly with an inner light. But as she stepped closer, she noticed faint cracks etched across its shell. They weren’t there before.
A sudden gust of wind swept through the room, slamming the door shut behind her. Emma spun slightly, her breath catching in her throat as the sound reverberated through the small space. She walked to the door, her hand instinctively reaching for the latch, but the door remained stubbornly shut.
The egg pulsed.
A faint light emanated from within, casting dancing shadows across the walls. Emma froze, not from fear, her curiosity got the best of her as she watched the cracks shift and shimmer.
What’s going to happen?
The air seemed to hum with energy, growing colder with each passing second. Emma took a step forward,
She reached out tentatively, her fingers trembling as they hovered above its surface. The light within the egg flared suddenly, and a jolt of energy shot out, covering the entire cottage as if wrapped in an empty space,
Hello again, A voice called out calmly,
Emma turned....