My hands grip the edge of the well tighter, knuckles white, nails digging into the moss and stone. The air feels heavy, oppressive, as if the world itself is holding its breath. I can feel the pull again, the compulsion to look down, to listen, to fall.
“Everly,”the voice sings once more, but now it’s darker, more urgent, wrapping itself around my mind, squeezing.
I take another step back, but the mist shifts with me, closing in like a noose tightening around my body. My legs feel weak, and I stumble, the ground slipping beneath me. My heart is in my throat, fear coursing through my veins. I can’t tear my eyes away from the well, from the blackness inside, from the voice that keeps calling my name, pulling me deeper into its spell.
Magic bursts from my chest, pushing away the fog. My entire frame sags, and I gasp for air. I lift my head and stare at the well, anger burning like a fire through my veins. Lifting my hands, thousands of vines shoot from the ground, encasing the well in a dome. The singing abruptly cuts off, leaving me in silence, the only noise my harsh breath.
‘That wasn’t very nice,’a melodic voice chides from behind me.
I spin, slipping on the damp ground, my heart leaping into my throat.
‘We only want to show you the secrets you seek.’
“What secrets? What do I seek? Because it feels ominous as shit and not at all friendly!” I snap.
The woman standing before me in white robes that float on the air just shrugs.‘That’s your interpretation. We simply answered your call because your magic comes from the earth. The druids are our distant relatives.’
I eye the White Witch in front of me with distrust. “Why should I believe you?”
Her white-orbed eyes flare in anger.‘We never lie.’
“Then tell me what you think I seek to know.”
She opens her mouth, but before she can answer me, I hold up my hand. “I’m not getting in that well, so forget it.”
The White Witch hums thoughtfully. ‘Why are you scared?’
Flashes of my childhood bombard me, and I realize it’s her flicking through my memories.
“Stop that!”
‘That boy should be strung up for the cruelty he inflicted on you,’several voices echo in my head at once.
I shake my head, trying to dislodge the memories of my foster brother. His wicked, cruel smirk as he shut the door of the closet, locking it and leaving me there for days at a time.
“It was a long time ago.”
‘But it still affects you greatly,’she prods, floating closer.
I narrow my eyes in warning. “Doesn’t matter anymore.”
‘I beg to differ. If you don’t face your fear, how do you expect to rescue your mate?’
Her words have their desired effect. I freeze, my breath stalling. “Do you know where he is?”
‘We do. But to get there, you will need to traverse several cave systems. It’s the only way.’
A sudden gust of wind tears through the clearing, whipping my hair across my face and biting into the thin fabric of my nightdress. The cold gnaws at my skin, making me shiver. I’m really going to have to start sleeping in my fighting gear.
Swiping the hair out of my face, I gasp. The witch stands mere inches from me, her pale features illuminated by the faint moonlight.
“What–” my words barely form before her cold hands shoot forward, grasping either side of my face.
A scream rips from my throat as a searing, unbearable pain stabs into my skull. It's as though her fingers are sinking into my mind, prying it apart. My vision blurs, knees buckling beneath me as agony radiates through every nerve.
"Through caverns deep and shadows wide, the Skythari Nomads dwell where beasts do hide. To earn their trust, a bond must form, in Ethereal Peaks where magic storms. The beasts will guide your path they know, but only through trust can you truly grow. To reunite with what you’ve lost, seek the creatures, no matter the cost. Shadow’s hand will search in vain, for only the beasts can break the chain."
The witch's grip tightens, and images swiftly start to invade my mind. They flash like broken shards of glass, each one sharper than the last. Snow-capped mountains tower before me, their icy peaks bathed in an eerie, otherworldly glow. I see figures standing atop the ridges—fae with skin so pale and icy blue it almost blends with the snow, but the white markings etched across their faces still stand out. Their eyes are an unnatural, glacial blue, so clear they seem to pierce straight through me. Their long, white hair falls in thick ropes, dreadlocks that whip in the wind.
