“Find her!” “Find the witch!” A bunch of angry voices echoed through the orphanage, followed by the sound of kids running down the hallway.
Hidden under an old wooden table in the corner of a dark storage room, a little girl hugged her knees tight to her chest.
She buried her face in her arms, her small body shaking.
She pressed her hands over her ears, hoping the voices would just go away if she blocked them out.
But they didn’t.
The shouting kept going outside the door, mixing with the fast thumping of her heart.
She wasn’t really scared.
Just tired—tired of running, tired of being called a witch, and tired of never getting a moment of peace.
After a while, she slowly loosened her grip and lowered her hands, checking if things had finally quieted down.
Click.
The doorknob turned, and the door creaked open.
A strip of warm sunlight spilled across the dusty floor.
Elora squeezed her eyes shut.
Soft footsteps echoed through the room.
Not rushed or angry like before—these were slow and gentle, stopping right in front of her.
“Elora…” The familiar voice was warm and kind, making her slowly open her eyes and look up.
A middle-aged woman stood there, dark hair streaked with white.
She wore a green floral dress, glasses resting on her nose, and a soft smile on her face.
“Mrs.
Brigitta?” The woman crouched down, still smiling, and reached out her hand.
“Come here.
It’s okay now.” Elora hesitated for a second before reaching out with shaky fingers.
The moment their hands touched— Her eyes snapped open.
She gasped and sat straight up in bed like she’d just come up for air.
Her heart was racing, her breathing uneven.
The dream felt so real, as if it had just happened.
She looked around to make sure she was in the right place, then softly slapped her face to wake herself up.
“…That dream again.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead, waiting for her heartbeat to calm down.
No matter how much time passed, the nightmare always came back.
Some memories just didn’t fade.
But that scared little girl hiding under the table wasn’t her anymore.
She was eighteen now.
She’d grown into a young woman.
Her long brown hair framed her face, and her silver-gray eyes held a quiet calm that hinted at the hardships she’d endured.
Around her neck hung an old silver necklace she’d had for as long as she could remember.
The chain was thin and worn, but the pendant was something else.
A dark crystal sat in a silver frame shaped like twisting branches.
No matter how old the necklace got, the crystal stayed perfect—no cracks, no scratches.
It was the only thing her parents had left behind.
She lost them when she was four.
The memories were blurry—cold rain, broken glass, distant voices, and someone placing the necklace in her hands before everything went dark.
After that, she ended up in a small orphanage in Rosehaven, where she spent years trying not to stand out.
But weird things always seemed to happen around her.
Candles would go out when she cried too hard.
Windows rattled during her nightmares even when there was no wind.
Once, an entire hallway turned freezing cold after another kid shoved her.
That’s how she got the nickname “Witch.” The other kids started avoiding her.
Some said she was cursed.
Others whispered that ghosts followed her.
Elora never really understood it.
Things just…
happened.
Out of all the adults there, Mrs.
Brigitta was the only one who actually cared.
While everyone else brushed off the strange stuff around Elora as bad luck—or worse—Mrs.
Brigitta never looked at her like she was something to fear.
She was just…
kind.
Whenever Elora got bullied, Mrs.
Brigitta was always there.
She’d clean her up, brush off the dirt, and remind her it wasn’t her fault.
“People are often afraid of things they don’t understand, or anyone who’s different,” she’d say with a gentle smile.
“That doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you.” Those words stuck with Elora long after she left.
Even now, when things got tough, she’d remember that smile and the hand that reached out to her in that dark room.
That single act of kindness kept her going.
She shook her head, pushing the memories away.
I don’t want to think about it.
There was no point dwelling on the past.
She pulled herself together, sat up, and started making her bed.
It was supposed to be just another normal morning.
Then…
She felt something warm around her neck.
Elora froze.
“…What?” She placed her hand on it, trying to feel it.
A faint red glow slipped through her fingers, lighting up the dim room.
The dark crystal, which had always been dull, was glowing from the inside.
Her eyes widened.
“That’s…
impossible.” She grabbed the pendant, but as soon as she touched it, the warmth grew stronger.
It wasn’t burning, but it pulsed with this strange energy, like something inside had just woken up.
The red light flickered once…
Twice…
Then it flared brighter.
Elora quickly pulled the necklace away, staring at it in shock.
The silver frame shimmered slightly, and faint red lines spread across the crystal like glowing cracks.
“No…” Her heart started racing.
What’s going on?
The necklace had never done this before.
Not once.
She glanced around the room, half-hoping someone else could see it too, but everything was still.
“I must be imagining things.” She closed her eyes, then opened them again, but the glow didn’t disappear.
It was still there.
The morning breeze came in through the open window, the curtains moved a bit, and she could hear people talking outside.
It all felt pretty normal, like any other morning.
Nothing seemed different.
Except for the necklace.
And just as suddenly as it started, the red glow disappeared.
The crystal went back to normal, dark and flawless, like nothing had happened.
Elora just stared at it, frozen.
“…What was that?” CREATORS’ THOUGHTS Nyx_Roses Hi, readers!
^^ This book means a lot to me, and I’m so excited to finally share it with all of you.
If you notice anything that could be improved, please feel free to let me know.
Your feedback and suggestions will help me grow as a writer, and I truly appreciate every comment you leave.
Thank you so much for giving my story a chance.
I hope you enjoy following Elora’s journey as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it.