Many centuries ago, our world was consumed by darkness. Witch hunts swept across the lands. Anyone who appeared different was persecuted and, more often than not, they were executed.

To protect themselves, the magical beings of our world decided it would be better to stay separated. They created doorways, and through them, you could cross between the two worlds. To better protect themselves and keep humans far from these doorways, they hid them all over the world; some in the middle of dense forests, or at the bottom of an ocean, one at the very top of the highest mountain, another far into the deepest cave. In total, there were seven doorways, all of them so well hidden that even if you managed to find one and go through it you wouldn’t be able to come back from it. The magic was so strong that even those who managed to return couldn't recall their journey, their memories as fleeting as a dream.

_-_-_-_

Three centuries had passed since the Great Separation. In the human world, the old fears had faded into fairytale, replaced by a new age of reason and invention. Society now concerned itself with the strictures of etiquette and the social season, while the clatter of carriages on paved roads echoed across an empire that had no time for ghost stories. But in the hidden world, the legends of the doorways were kept alive, whispered among generations. One story, however, was tragically recent, a tale still raw with grief.

Somewhere over the rolling hills of Veridian, stood a great house, home to the Ashworth family. It was a place rich in peace and quiet. In the sun-drenched library, Elara Hyght ran a hand over a dusty map, her fingers tracing the path of a majestic river that flowed through the land. Always a curious 4 year old, she loved the library.

‘’Papa!’’

‘’Yes love?’’ Kaelen Hyght appeared from around the corner, never far from his precious daughter. ‘’What’s that?’’ The toddler, sitting on a pile of books atop the large library table, pointed at the map.

‘’That is Oakhaven. It’s the river that runs through Ashworth keep, it comes from the mountain and goes all the way to the sea.’’ Her little eyes kept roaming over the map curiously. ‘’But, papa? Where do the water come from? Is it magic?’’

‘’Ahah, no my love, you see water is special, it always comes back. When it’s really hot, the water from the sea evaporates and becomes clouds that travel in the sky, the winds send them back up and up and when the clouds get really big, it rains and that is how the water gets to the mountain.’’

Elara’s eyes went wide. “So, it’s like a journey? Like when you leave with gran, uncle Lyam and uncle Vin?”

Kaelen smiled, a gentle warmth in his eyes. He lifted her off the books and into his arms, their combined reflection wavering in the glass of the window. “Exactly. A long, long journey. Every single drop has a story. Just like us.” He kissed the top of her head.

‘’Elara! Kaelen?’’ A sweet melodic voice could be heard from the door to the library.’’Mama! Guess what! Papa he tells me that water it’s always the same, it comes from the mountain and it go to the sea, and there it becomes a cloud and goes back to the mountain like rain! And we have a big big river , it’s Oakhave!’’

‘’Whoa, slow down my love! Oakhaven is a really big river, you are right! How about this, it is time to go eat, you could sit with your uncles and tell them all about the water.’’ Elara looked at her mother for a moment and took off running. 

“She has her father’s curiosity,” Elara’s mother, Alice, said, a fond smile gracing her lips as she watched their daughter disappear down the hall. Kaelen set her down and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. “And her mother’s energy,” he countered, his voice a low rumble. ‘’Come on, I’m afraid my brothers will kill me if we let Elara alone with them for too long.’’

They made their way to the dining room, where Elara was sitting between her uncles, happily babbling away about the water under the watchful eyes of Lord Cedric Ashworth ‘’Alice! Please relieve your brothers.’’ Even if the tone was serious, the amusement on her father’s face couldn’t be missed.

Alice chuckled softly and took her seat across the table. Her brothers, Torvin and Lyam, were listening to Elara with feigned seriousness. Torvin, the younger of the two, leaned in conspiratorially. “So it's true, then? The clouds are just water on a journey?” He winked at Elara, whose eyes lit up in response. “Yes! Papa said so!” Lyam, the eldest, shook his head with a good-natured smile. “I suppose that means we have to be extra careful not to upset the clouds, then.” The adults shared a knowing look, a quiet understanding passing between them as Elara’s excited tale continued.

Watching over her family has always been Alice’s favorite thing to pass time. Growing up, she could spend hours observing her brothers’ sparring matches or in her father’s office, tucked away in a corner listening to his conversations. She also learned a lot from her position as Lord Ashworth’s youngest child and only daughter.

Even now, seated across from her boisterous brothers and her infinitely patient husband, Alice found herself doing the same. Her gaze drifted over the table: Kaelen's quiet pride, her father Cedric’s fond amusement, the way her brothers, Torvin and Lyam, indulged Elara’s every whim. It was an image of perfect, sunlit peace, one she consciously focused on, as if bottling the moment, the playful banter and the genuine love.

Yet, in the midst of this comfort, a familiar worry tightened its coil around her. Her position as the only daughter had taught her not only to observe but also to anticipate. She knew the rhythm of the house, the timing of every tide and season, but she also knew the weight of her family's history. Alice watched the easy joy on their faces—the sheer freedom they felt within these walls—and a cold knot formed in her stomach.

She thought of the whispers: the stories told after midnight when the children were long asleep, the hushed concern in her father’s voice, and the way Kaelen’s eyes sometimes clouded with a distant, terrible memory. The world outside their gates was a world of reason and invention, yes, but it was also the world of rigid social strictures, one that had no patience for anything that deviated from the norm.

Alice took a deep, steadying breath, reminding herself that the high, rolling hills of Veridian and the thick stone walls of Ashworth Keep were their sanctuary. Their greatest defense was their perfect, quiet normalcy, meticulously maintained for three centuries. They were a family of landed gentry, respected and unremarkable. She had to ensure every line was straight, every button fastened, and every emotion contained. She focused her attention back on Elara, whose voice had just hit a pitch of pure delight as she regaled her uncles with the complex journey of a single drop of water.

This was what she guarded. This vibrant, noisy, precious moment.

The sudden, insistent ringing of the large brass bell by the main entrance cut through the happy chatter of the dining room. It wasn't the small, discreet chime of a neighbor or a tradesman; it was the heavy, startling clamor reserved for urgent or official visitors.

The noise silenced the table instantly. Elara, startled, dropped a piece of bread, and even the usually imperturbable Lord Cedric froze, his fork midway to his plate.

"A caller?" Torvin muttered, annoyance drawing his brows together. "At this hour? Surely they could have waited until after luncheon."

Kaelen, however, didn’t speak. His hand immediately went to Alice’s back, a steady, protective pressure that wasn't missed. She knew that touch; it was his signal for caution.

Lord Cedric quickly recovered, a practiced mask of dignified calm sliding over his features. "Lyam," he instructed, his voice even and controlled. "Go see to it. Ensure they are seen to, whatever their need. We are not barbarians, after all."

Lyam rose, his tall frame moving with a smooth grace. He gave a curt nod, embodying the Ashworth family's commitment to courtesy. Alice watched him go, a quiet sense of obligation settling over her.

She had barely taken a steadying breath before Lyam returned, pausing just inside the dining room.

“It’s a woman, Father,” Lyam reported, his voice low. “She’s on foot, utterly exhausted, and seems quite lost. She says she was traveling to the coast and took a wrong turn hours ago, only seeing our light through the trees. She’s simply asking for shelter for the night.”

Lord Cedric’s expression softened slightly. Uninvited guests were an inconvenience, but turning away a traveler was against every principle of their social standing and personal code.

“Did you recognize her? Is she local?” Kaelen asked, his tone less suspicious than cautious.

Lyam shook his head. “I’ve never seen her. She’s dressed in sturdy traveling clothes, a good quality cloak that’s now soaked through. She’s shivering, and the hour is late—the storm has begun in earnest.” He paused, looking directly at Alice. “She simply looks desperate for warmth.”

The family's silence was thoughtful. To refuse aid would invite local talk and be genuinely cruel. Alice felt Kaelen's hand shift on her back, becoming a comforting weight.

“We cannot leave a soul out in the storm, Lyam,” Alice said, her voice clear and firm, masking the frantic calculation beneath. “Show her to the blue parlor. Bring her a hot tea and a dry blanket. Also have the staff bring her food. Tell her we will speak with her after dinner.”