{AURORA'S POV}
"How much farther?" I asked, trying not to sound like I was whining, but failing.
Every step felt like dragging bricks. My legs ached, my stomach growled, and even my boots had started to rub raw at my heels. My entire body was a pulsing bruise, and I was pretty sure my last shred of patience had been left somewhere back at the last fork in the road.
Rhea didn't even look back at me. She just kept walking, her black cloak trailing over moss and fallen leaves as if the forest parted willingly for her.
"Patience, child," she said, her voice maddeningly calm. "The sanctuary isn't that far anymore."
I rolled my eyes. "We've been walking for hours. I'm hungry. My legs are sore."
She glanced back then, her lips twitching into a smirk. "Children these days are so lazy," she muttered. "You think you're sore? I'm an old woman. Imagine how I feel, and yet here I am, not complaining."
My jaw dropped. "Not complaining? You just complained!"
"Exactly." She winked. "You see how annoying it is?"
I stared at her for a beat, then shook my head with a huff, too tired to argue.
Eventually, we reached a stream, the water gliding smoothly over pale stones like melted glass. Rhea knelt and drank from it. I crouched beside her, cupped my hands, and splashed my face. The cold water was a small mercy, but it woke me up enough to feel every last ache in my body.
"Let's rest here for a moment," Rhea said, settling on a moss-covered rock.
I sat nearby, not fully relaxing. My eyes kept drifting to her, to the strange stillness she carried, the sense that she was always listening to something I couldn't hear.
She kept glancing at the trees, scanning the shadows.
"Why do you keep looking around like that?" I asked.
"Because the forest isn't as empty as it seems," she said, brushing dirt off her palms. "There are things out here. Creatures, spirits… even other witches. Not all of them are friendly."
That sent a chill down my spine. "Other witches? Shouldn't they be on our side?"
Her laugh was quiet but bitter. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? But fear and desperation have made even our own kind dangerous to each other. Some witches have gone down dark paths. They would sell their souls, or yours for a chance to keep breathing."
I dropped my gaze to the stream, watching the ripples catch the fading light. My fingers clenched into fists as I took in every word that came out of Rhea's mouth.
The silence stretched a little too long before she finally spoke again.
"Did you always know you were a witch?"
I hesitated, then nodded slowly. "I think I did. There were… signs. I always felt different. Like something was inside me, trying to get out."
I picked up a pebble and tossed it into the water. "I saw my mother do magic. Not often, just little things. A flick of her hand to light the fireplace, a whispered word to soothe a fever. She always made sure no one saw. She said the less we knew, the safer we were."
Rhea's brow lifted. "Did she teach you anything?"
I shook my head, biting the inside of my cheek. "No. It was a part of me she tried to bury. She never wanted me to learn. Never wanted to explain what I was. Said I'd be better off not knowing."
I looked up, my voice cracking. "She thought that would keep me safe."
My eyes burned as I whispered, "And look at how that turned out."
Rhea didn't answer right away. Her face softened, and for the first time, she looked like she might reach out and touch my shoulder, or say something kind. But instead, she asked, "Do you at least know what kind of witch you are?"
I blinked. "There's… kinds?"
That made her laugh—a full, throaty laugh this time. "Of course there are. Nature doesn't make us all the same. Some command elements, some influence minds. Some are born to heal. Others destroy."
My stomach twisted. "Let me guess. I'm the destroying kind."
Rhea's eyes sparkled. "Maybe. Maybe not. That's what the sanctuary is for. You'll learn who you are there. Who you truly are."
As we fell into another silence and continued the journey, I couldn't help but notice how the forest began to change. The trees stretched taller, their trunks wider, their bark darker and twisted with age. Roots jutted from the earth like gnarled fingers, curling around rocks and rising like warning signs from the dirt. Even the air shifted. It was no longer crisp and clean, but heavy, thick with energy that prickled against my skin.
I slowed my steps. "What is this place?" I asked, unable to keep the unease from my voice.
"The threshold," Rhea answered, her tone quiet now, almost reverent. "We're nearing the sanctuary, but first, we must pass through the veil. It's a protective barrier that keeps hunters and those with ill intent, out."
My brow furrowed. "A barrier? I don't see anything."
"You will," she murmured, her expression unreadable.
We walked a few more steps before the path narrowed, and there, tucked between two massive, ancient trees was something I hadn't noticed before. Their trunks curved inward and tangled together high above, forming a natural archway. Vines drooped like curtains, and between the entwined trees, the air shimmered faintly, like sunlight through glass.
Rhea paused. "This is it."
She turned toward me, her hand extended. I hesitated before taking it. Her fingers were warm, steady, and when she stepped forward, I followed.
The instant I crossed the arch, something shifted.
The change wasn't visible, not exactly.
But I felt it.
The air turned denser, as if I'd stepped underwater. Magic hummed in my bones, vibrating through my skin. My heartbeat stuttered, then quickened as the forest around me deepened in color. The trees here weren't just tall, they were alive in a way I couldn't explain. The world had changed, though it still looked the same.
I could feel it watching me.
We continued on, and after a short while, the forest opened up into a wide clearing.
And that was when I saw it.
At the center stood a tree so massive it made everything else look small. Its thick branches spread high and wide, like arms sheltering the entire glade. Glowing runes pulsed in its bark, golden and soft like candlelight. The roots twisted across the clearing in massive tangles, disappearing into hills and rising through the soil like stone pathways.
Streams flowed in graceful ribbons around it, their water clear as glass. Butterflies flitted through the air, their wings gleaming with magic. The greenery here thrived. Vibrant flowers bloomed in every color I could name, and crops grew in perfectly arranged plots: tall stalks of corn, thick heads of lettuce, sweet berries clustered on vines. Fruit trees bore apples, pears, peaches, figs. Their branches heavy with abundance.
My breath caught. "It's… beautiful."
"It's also hidden," Rhea said gently. "No one can find it unless they're meant to. And now, you're one of us."
I swallowed hard. The idea of being "one of them" sat heavy in my chest. I didn't feel like one of anything. Not anymore.
We stepped closer to the tree. Its mere presence was overwhelming. As we approached, Rhea lifted a hand and brushed her fingers against the bark, just where the runes glowed brightest.
"This tree is older than the kingdom itself," she said. "It's the heart that feeds our hidden world. Without it, there is no sanctuary."
I frowned, my eyes scanning the clearing. "But… there's no one here."
Rhea's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Appearances can be deceiving."
She raised both hands and whispered something I couldn't catch. Her fingers moved in elegant patterns, each motion deliberate. The runes on the tree flared, golden light sweeping outward in waves. The air shimmered again and the illusion shattered.
They appeared as if conjured from thin air.
Witches.
Hundreds of them, maybe more. Men, women, even children. The children were laughing near the tree's roots, chasing dragonflies that sparked with tiny flickers of light. Older witches sat in circles, whispering incantations, their hands glowing with magic. Others tended to the gardens, their movements graceful and quiet. A few turned toward us, and their eyes lingered on me.
They didn't look hostile. But they didn't look entirely welcoming either.
They looked curious.
I tightened my grip on Mira's locket.
"Welcome to Nevermoor," Rhea said softly beside me. "A safe haven for witches."