I woke up to a sneeze. Not mine.
It echoed through the weaver's loft like a startled cat falling off a bookshelf, loud and wildly unnecessary. I shot up, heart pounding, hair sticking up in every direction possible.
Pim.
Of course it was Pim.
The winged fox-like creature—who I was still convinced was trying to set a record for most chaos caused in one village—was sitting atop a pile of yarn spools, one paw pressed dramatically to his nose.
I glared at him.
"You sneezed on a loom," I said flatly, still half asleep.
Pim sneezed again, sending a pile of thread tumbling to the floor.
"Seriously, Pim?" I muttered, trying to rub the sleep from my eyes. "Do you even understand the concept of personal space?"
Pim blinked up at me with wide, innocent eyes, his fluffy tail flicking nervously.
I sighed, rubbing my temples. "I really don't have the energy for you today."
I wrapped the blanket around me and sat up. The loft was peaceful, the soft light of early morning streaming through the dusty window, and it almost felt like it could be a normal day. Almost.
Except there was still no sign of the necklace from the poem. No butterfly, no charm.
My fingers instinctively went to my collarbone, as if expecting the necklace to have materialized overnight, but it was still bare skin.
I pulled the folded note from the poetry book again and read it one more time, hoping for some hidden meaning to leap off the page.
"When the Guardian is chosen, they are gifted a charm:
A necklace spun from the first butterfly of spring.
It will find you when the time is right.
When your heart is ready to hold it."
The first butterfly of spring. That sounded... important. But there was nothing.
And why hadn't I received it yet? What if something had gone wrong? What if the necklace was tied to Evanor somehow?
I shuddered, pushing the thought away. The boy trapped inside the mirror. There was something off about him. Something... too perfect. Like a piece of a puzzle that didn't quite fit.
My gaze drifted back to Pim, who was still sitting on the yarn spools, his tail flicking back and forth with suspicion.
"Alright, Pim," I muttered, standing up. "We've got a lot to figure out today. The necklace, the curse, Evanor... Maybe Granny Elowyth knows something about it."
Pim made a little whimpering sound, as if sensing my mood, but he didn't move from his perch. I wasn't sure whether that was his way of being comforting or just an excuse to stay out of trouble.
"Well, you're not coming," I said, grabbing my cloak. "There's no way I'm letting you destroy my only other favorite place in this village."
Pim tilted his head, but I was already making my way down the rickety ladder from the loft. He could whine all he wanted. I wasn't going to let him ruin this day.
I stepped outside into the crisp air of Moonhollow, the early light catching the edges of the stone buildings and casting long shadows down the cobblestone streets. The village was still half asleep, but there was a stillness in the air that suggested something was about to change.
I needed answers, and I wasn't going to waste time.
---
After sneaking past the sleepy bakery (and dodging Pim, who had followed me by some miracle), I reached the tavern. The tavern was as quiet as always in the morning, empty except for the occasional broomstick and mop left behind by the cleaning staff.
But in the back room, hidden under a velvet curtain, stood the mirror.
I walked toward it, my heart racing. I'd stood in front of it before, but something about today felt different. This time, I wasn't just there to admire it or wonder about it. Today, I needed answers.
"Alright," I said aloud to the glass, standing in front of it. "I'm done with your cryptic nonsense. If you want to keep playing games, that's fine. But I'm not here to play anymore."
Nothing happened.
For a moment, I almost thought the mirror wasn't going to answer.
Then, it shimmered.
His face appeared in the mirror. Evanor.
There he was again, pale and ethereal as always, with dark eyes that seemed to see through everything. His expression was unreadable, but the corner of his mouth twitched as if he was trying to decide whether to smile or scowl.
"You," I said, eyes narrowing. "What game are you playing?"
"Me?" He raised an eyebrow, looking almost insulted. "I'm not playing a game. You're the one here, demanding answers."
"Of course I am!" I snapped, taking a step closer to the mirror. "You owe me. I need to know about my parents. I need to know about the curse. And if you think I'll trust you because of some sad poem you spoke to me—"
"You don't trust me?" he asked, voice laced with mock surprise. "I thought we were friends."
"Friends?" I barked a laugh. "We're not friends, Evanor. You're trapped in a mirror, and I'm just trying to figure out if you had anything to do with my parents' disappearance."
The tension in his eyes shifted, and for a moment, he looked like he was considering something. Then his face hardened.
"I didn't have anything to do with it," he said quietly. "But you're looking for answers in all the wrong places, Liora."
I took a breath, trying to steady my pulse. "Then where do I look?"
"The three pieces," he said, almost absently, his gaze flicking away as if he were unwilling to meet my eyes. "The charm, the name, and the choice. They are all connected."
"Pieces of what?" I asked, frustrated.
"That," he said, his tone turning sharp, "is for you to figure out. But be careful. You're getting too close."
"Too close to what?" I demanded.
He didn't answer. His image began to flicker.
"Wait—Evanor!" I stepped forward, heart pounding. "Tell me more! What pieces?"
But he was gone, his image fading from the glass. The room felt colder.
I stared at my reflection, heart hammering.
What pieces?
I didn't have time to figure this out alone. I needed help. And if I had to ask Granny Elowyth, Lady Seraphine, or the nearest talking broom for it, I was going to find answers.
༓☾༓
Granny Elowyth's cottage always smelled like something halfway between a bakery and a wizard's apothecary—warm honey bread with just a hint of bubbling potions and burning thyme. As I pushed open the crooked wooden door, the bell above gave a cheerful jingle, and a cloud of glittering golden dust whooshed into my face.
"Wha—achoo! Granny, your welcome spells are still sneezy!" I coughed and blinked as tiny sparkles settled on my nose.
"Magic has to make an entrance, doesn't it?" Granny Elowyth replied from somewhere inside, her voice full of amusement. "Come in, love. Don't just stand there sparkling."
I stepped inside, brushing my sleeves and trying to pretend I wasn't now half fairy dust. Granny was perched on her favorite velvet stool, knitting something that looked suspiciously like a hat for a goose.
"I need to talk to you," I said, not bothering with pleasantries.
Granny Elowyth raised one silver eyebrow. "About the mirror? Or the voice in your head that probably belongs to a boy who's entirely too dramatic for someone trapped in magical glass?"
I blinked. "Wait—how do you know he's dramatic?"
Granny just cackled. "Oh, child. I've met Evanor."
I stared, completely scandalized. "You've met him?!"
She waved a hand like it was yesterday's teacup gossip. "Long ago. When I was much younger and less wrinkly. He was just as broody then, too."
I flopped into the chair across from her, still trying to wrap my head around the idea that Granny Elowyth had once interacted with the mirror boy I'd been lowkey arguing with.
"So... the necklace," I began. "There was a note in my father's book. It said I'd find it when I was ready. And I think—I feel like I'm supposed to find it soon. Do you know where it is?"
Granny Elowyth's hands stopped mid-knit. Her eyes sparkled, but her expression turned serious. "You won't find it, Liora. She will bring it to you."
"She who?" I asked slowly.
"Lady Seraphine," Granny said simply. "She's coming here this afternoon. No need to go running all over Moonhollow—magic has a way of arriving when it's meant to."
I leaned forward. "Wait, you mean the Lady Seraphine? The seer who walks around barefoot and reads teacups like storybooks?"
"The very one. I invited her for tea and a slice of almond cake, but I daresay she's bringing more than gossip this time."
I sat back, heart thumping with a weird mixture of excitement and dread. "So... the necklace could be with her?"
Granny Elowyth smiled, and it was that mysterious sort of smile that meant she knew more than she was saying. "Maybe. Maybe not. But I'll say this: when Seraphine comes bearing butterflies, you'll know you're close."
"Butterflies," I muttered. "Always butterflies."
Granny Elowyth chuckled. "It suits you, my little flutterbug."
"I am not a flutterbug."
"You flutter. And you bug."
"Granny!"
Granny only winked, then got up to put the kettle on like she hadn't just casually declared that a barefoot seeress might drop in with a magical artifact and potentially change my entire life.
I was still pouting about "flutterbug" when the wind outside the cottage shifted.
And I don't mean, like, a gentle breeze.
I mean the kind of wind that flings open windows, makes flowerpots spin like tops, and sends enchanted spoons clattering to the floor in terror.
Granny didn't flinch. "Ah," she said, brushing flour off her skirt. "That'll be Seraphine."
The front door opened without a knock. Of course.
Lady Seraphine glided in like moonlight in human form. She was barefoot as always, wearing a robe that shimmered like starlight stitched with cobwebs. Her long, silver-white braid trailed behind her, and her eyes glowed faintly—as if she knew too much and wasn't sorry about it at all.
"Granny Elowyth," she said in a voice like windchimes and thunderstorms. "And the new Guardian, I presume?"
I tried to stand up. Failed. Knocked over my chair.
"Uh. Hi," I said, coolly, from the floor. "Yes. That's me. The very graceful, highly qualified Guardian."
Seraphine gave me a small smile and turned to Granny. "You baked?"
"Of course," Granny said, patting a fresh almond cake. "But I think Liora's more curious about what's in your pocket."
Seraphine's lips twitched like she was enjoying a joke no one else knew. She reached into her robe and pulled out something wrapped in black velvet.
My breath caught.
With all the ceremony of a queen bestowing a crown, she placed the bundle into my hands.
I unwrapped it slowly.
Inside was a necklace—delicate as a whisper, silver like moonbeams, with a single butterfly-shaped pendant at the center. The wings shimmered with opal light, and for half a second, I swore it fluttered.
"It's... beautiful," I whispered, almost scared to touch it.
"It's more than beautiful," Seraphine said. "It's bonded to your bloodline. Your father wore it once, briefly. Before the curse."
My head snapped up. "He what?"
Granny handed me a teacup, conveniently ignoring the part where my pulse had just yeeted into another dimension.
Seraphine went on, "This necklace is both a key and a compass. It responds to the heart, and reveals what is hidden. But only when the Guardian is ready to see."
I blinked. "See what?"
"Everything," she said simply. "Or nothing. Depends on how stubborn you are."
Wow. Super helpful.
I put the necklace on slowly, the metal warm against my skin. And the moment it settled against my collarbone—
"About time," said a very familiar, very annoyed voice.
I screamed. Like—squeaky, undignified, full-body jolt scream.
The teacup flew out of my hand and shattered against the floor.
Granny jumped a little. Seraphine just blinked and calmly took another bite of cake.
"Wh—who said that?" I spun around, heart hammering.
"Oh don't act surprised, you left me alone in that mirror for hours after our charming little chat yesterday. I was beginning to think you'd forgotten me."
I froze. "...Evanor?"
"Well, obviously. Who else sounds this devastatingly witty and slightly offended?"
I slapped my hand over the necklace. "WHY are you in my jewelry?!"
Granny coughed into her sleeve, clearly delighted.
Seraphine chuckled. "Didn't I mention? The necklace is also a conduit. Think of it as... magical voicemail, but sassier."
"Hey!" Evanor protested. "I am not sass. I am sarcasm. There's a difference."
"Oh, this is going to be a disaster," I muttered.
"A beautiful disaster," Evanor added. "Like a firework show inside a bakery."
"I don't even know what that means."
"You will. Eventually."
I groaned and looked up at Granny and Seraphine, who were both way too calm about this.
"So... he's just going to talk to me now? From my chest?!"
"Well," Evanor said smugly, "this is certainly the closest I've ever been to a girl's heart."
My jaw dropped. "Oh my gods, did you just—"
Granny spit her tea laughing.
Seraphine snorted into her sleeve.
And I was already questioning all my life choices.
"Don't worry, Flutterbug," Evanor said, sounding so proud of himself. "We're going to have so much fun."