Ding dong, the school bell rang as Philip walked through the hallway, making his way past students dispersed across the school, their smiling faces bright after a long day of classes. He hurried to the library, counting his steps as he went, the familiar pattern calming his nerves.

“Good day, Philip,” Mrs. Linda said, looking up briefly as she sorted through the heap of papers scattered across the table.

“Good day, Mrs. Linda,” he replied, closing the door behind him. The library was as quiet as he expected, class was over for the day, and it was the perfect time for him to read. He walked straight to the fantasy section, not his usual type of books, but Tangled turned out to be a real page-turner.

You have two hours,” Mrs. Linda called out as she pulled her grey coat from the stand and took her keys from the table, already moving toward the door.

“M.hmmm,” Philip murmured. Taking a quick glance at his wristwatch assured him he had more than enough time to finish the book and still make it home for the grand welcoming party for his dad, who had been away on fieldwork for a year and four months.

“Oh, and don’t forget to lock up when you’re done, Philip. You know where the keys are,” she reminded him and took one last look around to ensure everything was in order before stepping out and letting the door click softly behind her.

Philip couldn't help but smile, reminiscing about the past. Five years ago, he would have been at home helping with the cooking and decorations, waiting for his father to walk in so he could leap into his arms, never wanting to let go.

He guessed he was all grown up now. Still, he was just happy and content that his dad was back home, while holding onto a small hope that he was back to stay.

Completely captivated by the book he was reading, Philip didn’t notice an unusual figure staring at him with an unblinking gaze. He remained oblivious until the lights began to flicker, casting eerie, shifting reflections of books on the walls.

As the room plunged into darkness, he looked up and found a shadow looming before him, a lady.

Her figure slowly came into view, average yet strangely striking, with eyes that seemed to hold a thousand secrets and skin as pale as a ghost.

Ghost!

The word whispered in his mind like a faint breath. Is she really a…? No. He didn’t dare to think.

Fighting the fear twisting inside him, he summoned every ounce of strength to move toward the door. He could easily find his way through the library even when blindfolded, after spending countless hours reading within these walls.

But his legs felt like lead, and his voice trembled as he managed only a single step backward. “Who are you? How did you…?” he demanded, his yell wavering into a desperate whisper. Feeling helpless, he breathed a shaky prayer. “Oh God, please help me.” The words barely made a sound.

“Do not be afraid,” she said from the darkness, drifting closer to him. Her face now visible … eyes hypnotic, a tiny nose, high cheekbones, and lips as red as blood, and together they formed a face. But not the one he was seeing, a canvas of contrast, as if she was putting on a mask. A magical mask that let his fears scatter like the wind, drawing in all his pains, like a soothing balm on a wound, a leaf resting peacefully on a still river, a calmness he hadn't felt in his life, the feeling only growing stronger as she came close to him.

And when Philip felt her cold yet delicate hand on his face, her fingers brushing against his skin, he knew he wouldn’t run, even as all his strength returned and his legs were no longer rooted to the ground. He was enthralled. A spell? Did she cast a spell on me? he wondered, the thought slipping hazily through his mind.

“I am here to let you know who you really are and the great task that lies ahead of us,” she said, staring straight into his eyes, her face devoid of any emotion.

“Haha ahh haaa,” Philip laughed, feeling both stupid and oddly amused. “Oh my God, a prank,” he muttered, glancing at the door, expecting it to swing open as his friends walked in laughing. But a few seconds went by, and nothing happened—no footsteps, no voices, only the thick silence pressing in around them. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Confused, he turned back to her, watching her expression falter from disappointment to confusion and finally to a sadness so raw it made his heart palpitate. Then instantly, her face lit up with a fierce determination.

“I will show you,” she declared, grasping both of his hands. “Open your eyes, Philip. Open your eyes and drive away this darkness. You are the light of this world,” she screamed, increasing the pressure on her grip as if she could pull the truth into him by force. The words "light of this world" sent shivers down his spine, her touch igniting a fire that shot through his veins. What is she saying? What does she mean? He tried desperately to make sense of her words.

“My eyes are open!” Philip hollered, the pain spiking through him as he snatched his hands away and staggered back, putting a distance between them. He discerned the feeling of fear and hopelessness creeping back in like an unwelcome tide. But what he felt the most was the anger. A deep, uncontrollable anger was eating him inside out, and he couldn’t tell who it was directed at, himself or her. He struggled to confine it within himself, to control the rising heat, his skin turning red and his veins fully stretched. He looked at her in pain. “Make it stop, please.”

“Focus, open your inner mind, and control your emotions. Look deep inside you; let your sole desire be for light,” she cried out, her voice sharp and urgent as he fought within himself, struggling against the feeling that he was about to be torn apart.

Suddenly the space around them dissolved, and he was lost in a sea of lights. It was as if the very fabric of reality had been ripped open. Powerful rays of light burst from his hands and eyes and filled up the room, leaving him shocked beyond words.

“H…How?” he uttered, trying to comprehend what was happening. Then, the brilliant radiance collapsed into darkness. He stumbled backward, gasping for air.

“You did it,” she said, smiling. “You have the power within you; what you see now is only a fraction of what you’re capable of. Now you need to learn to control it.”

She moved quickly, pulling a massive ancient book from a high shelf. Its worn, yellowed pages crackled as she placed it in his hands. “I don’t have enough time to explain. Read the book; it contains everything you need to know about your powers… and the others.”

A surge of anxiety tightened his chest. What secrets lay hidden within its yellowed pages, an ancient treasure?

“What do you mean by others?” He asked, flipping through its pages, searching for answers. But when he looked up, she was gone, vanished into thin air as though she had never been there at all.

He walked home in a daze, the images of light and her words looping in his mind, confused. Scared. Yet one thing was certain: his life would never remain the same.

Lying on her bed, Lucy stared blankly at the ceiling as the sun rose through the window, casting bright, sharp rays across the room. Outside, people talked about their daily lives, their conversations and laughter fading away with the breeze. The world beyond her window seemed to slow down, and for a brief moment, everything felt peaceful, in a way that made the morning feel almost sacred. In that stillness, the world felt right.

The calm didn’t last long. Her bedroom door creaked wide open, her mom’s unmistakable way of saying, “Get your ass off that bed, now.”

Lucy groaned as she reluctantly arranged her bedcovers, pushing down the warmth and comfort she would rather stay wrapped in. It was still early by city standards, but in this village, where half the population were farmers already long at work, this was practically mid-morning.

After scrubbing her teeth and taking a quick shower, she put on her school uniform and headed to the dining room. The aroma hit her first, freshly baked pies, creamy potato stew, peas, bread, bright slices of fruit, and steaming tea. One undeniable perk of living with farmers was having fresh farm food on the table every morning.

“Have some more,” her mom said, adding another spoonful of potato stew to her plate. She wore a pale orange sleeveless gown and moccasins, her hair tied neatly into a bun. Her mother, who never cared much for jewelry, wore only her dangly silver earrings. But what truly stood out was her blonde hair, giving her an ethereal look.

People often said Lucy was the exact replica of her mother, but she always thought her mom was far more beautiful…effortlessly so.

Watching her mother eat, taking small bites at a time, Lucy found herself reflecting on happier days, when the house wasn’t so quiet. Back when her father was still around, they would all have breakfast together. Her mother always made sure they ate more than enough, urging them to hurry so they wouldn’t be late. Her father, a teacher at Liberty High School a few miles away, would drop her off at school in the village before heading to work.

Lucy had never seen her parents argue or even have any disagreement. To her, they were the perfect couple.

Waking up to the news of their divorce had shattered her. The shock, the devastation, no words could capture it. Watching her father move out and sitting through meals with an empty chair… He still called, but the phone conversations did little to fill the hollow space he left behind.

But it was her mother who suffered most. Sometimes Lucy passed her room at night and heard her crying softly, as though the grief had swallowed her. Eventually, her mother abandoned the bedroom she once shared with her husband and moved into the guest room. Farming became her therapy, the place where she found comfort. When Lucy once asked what caused the divorce, her mother’s answer was painfully simple, “We stopped loving each other.” She never understood what that meant. How do you just stop loving someone?

But that was then, they had both found a way to move forward. Her mother had regained her spark. Her father remarried and invited Lucy to spend holidays with him in the city, promising all the fun they would have together. But Lucy couldn’t leave her mother, not when she was all her mother had.

Finishing the last of her tea, Lucy stood and carried her plate to the kitchen.

“Good luck on your farm fest, Lucy,” her mother said warmly, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek.

Lucy grabbed her school bag and stepped outside, welcoming the chilled morning air and feeling a surge of confidence within her. Today was going to be a lovely day and she intended to claim the win.

Standing alongside her fellow students, in front of the farm plot given to them for the project, Lucy felt nervous under the judges’ scrutiny. Their garden was filled with fresh vegetables, and birds were flitting about. This was it, the moment of triumph after one month of hard work and dedication.

This was more than a project for Lucy. It was an opportunity to prove herself once again and retain her title as the top student in her class. And yes, for the sweet satisfaction of seeing Beatrice and her crew seething with envy. The wait seemed endless and suffocating.

Finally, when she heard her name called for the first position, Lucy’s heart filled with joy. She had done it, four consecutive wins, a new record. Some, like her mom, believed it was luck; others whispered cheating. But she knew better.

As Lucy stepped forward, her eyes locked onto a familiar yet strange figure. She froze, cold spreading from her heart downward. Her excitement faltered, her steps quivering as she forced herself back in line, the strange woman’s gaze never leaving her. The memory of their last encounter pressed into her mind, sending goosebumps racing over her skin.

She remembered that day vividly, the day she was alone on her mom's farm, walking from one section to another. She let her palms brush gently over each plant, releasing that invisible energy she still didn’t fully understand. She felt the plants’ vitality pulse back at her, each time resonating with her own.

That was the real secret behind her mom’s bountiful harvests. Lucy still didn’t know how she was able to do it, but ever since she had discovered her strange ability, she had used it only to help her mom and herself.

---

“Can I help you?” Lucy asked when she noticed a strange woman standing at the far end of the farm. She didn’t recognize her, not as one of her mom’s friends nor any of the neighbors, and she was certain she had never seen that face before; maybe the woman was lost.

Dropping the debris in her hands, Lucy moved forward cautiously. The sight of the woman’s pale skin, coupled with the weird long white dress she wore, her ocean blue eyes, and red fingers, made Lucy’s stomach tighten.

“What do you want?” Lucy asked, scanning the area for any weapon she could use for defense.

“You are special,” the woman said at last, her voice low and chilling. She reached out, running her cold, red fingers across Lucy’s face as her gaze deepened. “And I’m sure you already know that. When the time is right, I will come back for you. But until then, you must stop using your powers… or else they will come for you.”

With those words, she pushed Lucy backward with unnatural force, knocking her off her feet.

How did this woman know about her powers? It was a secret she had never shared with anyone, not even with her mom. And who were they? Who was coming for her?

These questions got stuck in her throat as the woman vanished like a breath of cold wind.

---

Now, seeing her again brought mixed emotions rushing through Lucy. She was excited that she was finally going to uncover the mystery behind her abilities. But the thought of leaving her mom filled her with unbearable sadness she couldn’t shake.

But a choice had to be made: remain in this quiet village with her questions gnawing at her, or take that difficult step to discover who she truly was… and what she was meant to become.

Denise's mind drifted away as she thought of what awaited her in her new school, when she walked in silence along the narrow path lined with lush flowers on both sides.

Would she be able to make new friends? Memories of her old, lonely school crept in, but at least she had her sister then. Perhaps this could be a fresh start…maybe things would go differently. Brushing her arms against the flowers, she tried to calm her nerves.

She followed Aunt Lilian, passing through corridors lined with classrooms and offices until they reached a door marked ‘REGISTRAR’ in bold letters. Aunt Lilian knocked on the door, and a raspy voice replied, “Come in, please.”

She turned the handle and stepped inside, with Denise following closely.

“ You are welcome, please have a seat,” the registrar said, and gestured to the chair opposite her desk.

The office was small but neat and books were arranged carefully on a shelf to the left, and stacks of files sat in tidy piles on both sides of the desk. A telephone and computer sat on the desk in front of the woman, who wore a black knee-length skirt and a white blouse. She looked to be in her early fifties, Denise guessed.

“Mrs. Lilian, right?” the woman asked, her lips curving into a warm smile. She turned to Denise. “And this is…?”

“Denise Larsson, my niece,” Aunt Lilian replied.

“Okay, I’m so happy to have you join us, Denise. Feel free to come to me whenever you need anything,” she said warmly, donning her glasses higher on the bridge of her nose. She opened a desk drawer and pulled out a form, smoothing it with her palm before handing it to Aunt Lilian.

“Please, fill it out correctly, use capital letters when necessary,” she instructed politely.

Reaching into the small candy box at the corner of her desk, she unwrapped one for herself, then held the box toward Denise. “Do you want one, Denise?”

Her eyes roamed Denise’s face longer than necessary, studying her with gentle curiosity as she absorbed every detail.

“No thanks,” Denise declined, earning a disappointed sigh from her aunt, though she barely noticed. She wasn't supposed to be here, she hated it. Every part of this office, the sweet smell of candies, all of it reminded her of what she had lost. Flashbacks pulled her to a time when she was living happily with her parents and sister,unaware of the tragedy that would soon change everything.

—

“Wake up, Agatha ,wake up!” Denise shouted, shaking her sister's shoulders, Agatha had always been a deep sleeper.

“Leave me alone, you little monster,” she mumbled, rolling over.

“Ahhh!” Denise groaned, frustrated, she pressed a pillow over Agatha's face, watching in amusement for a few seconds as she flailed and kicked about. Unfortunately, it was the only way to pull her back to reality.

“Stop it!” Agatha yanked the pillow away, gasping for air. “Is it morning already?” she asked, fighting to keep her eyes open. “Why do we have to get up so early?”

“Because Mom says so,” Denise replied, heading to the bathroom.

“This isn’t fair, we are on summer break, we should be allowed to sleep till noon,” Agatha wailed, her voice muffled through the walls.

Denise rolled her eyes “ mom always insists we have breakfast together.”

Coming out of the bathroom, Denise found Agatha still sprawled on the bed, staring at the white ceiling lost in thoughts. She tiptoed downstairs, sneaking into the kitchen to snag a cookie. But the moment she saw her mom already there with a knowing look, she paused in the doorway.

“Good morning, sweetie those cookies are for breakfast,” her mom said, pointing at the tray of hot, freshly baked cookies on the counter.

Denise helped her mom set the breakfast table. Her dad, already dressed for work, sat in the dining area. When he noticed her, he looked up and smiled.“Good morning, angel.”

She smiled back and took a seat as the three of them gathered for breakfast.

Agatha joined shortly after, her black wavy hair still damp from the shower. Breakfast was simple, white bread, freshly baked chocolate cookies, crisp salad, and two steaming cups of tea and coffee for her parents.

Her mom set a plate of warm, toasted bread with butter and a side of salad in front of her. Denise groaned loudly, poking at the greens with her fork. “Mom, can I have some cookies now, please?” she pleaded, gently pushing the salad away.

“Sure, but only after you finish your salad, sweetie,” Mom replied with a smirk.

Agatha, meanwhile, was fully immersed in savoring hers, eyes closed in appreciation, earning a proud nod from their mother. Unlike Denise, she had always loved salad and wouldn't missed an opportunity to lecture her sister about how nutritious it was.

Denise shot her a side-eye, waiting for the perfect moment to make her move. When her mom stood to pour her dad a cup of coffee, she seized the chance. Dumping her salad onto Agatha’s plate — unbeknownst to Agatha, who was too absorbed in discussing her plans for the day.

They were barely done eating when the home phone rang,and Dad hurried over to answer it. They couldn’t make out what he was saying, but he returned moments later, announcing that he was leaving for work early due to a minor issue at the office.

“Then I’ll have to go with you today, my car is still at the mechanic’s,” Mom said, rushing into the bedroom to grab her bag. “Agatha, clear the table after you two finish eating, okay? And Denise, don’t eat too many cookies. Too much sugar isn’t good for you.”

“Heard you, Mom. Love you,” Denise said as she kissed her cheeks before going out.

“That can’t be a minor issue,” Agatha said in a low voice.