Chapter 7: Echoes in the Glade

The sun in Aeloria never rose—it bloomed. Petals of light unfurled across the sky, casting golden warmth over the treetops and shimmering lakes. I stood at the edge of the Whispering Glade, my fingers trailing through the air, shaping flickers of flame that danced like fireflies. I felt more alive here than I ever had in the waking world.

But today, something felt different.

The air pulsed with tension. The trees whispered warnings. And then, from the bend in the path, came a figure I hadn’t seen in years—though I recognized her instantly.

“Aine?” I breathed.

The woman—no, the fairy—stepped into view. She was radiant, with hair like spun moonlight and wings that shimmered in soft hues of pearl and rose. Her eyes, deep violet and filled with emotion, locked onto me.

“My Emberleaf,” she said, voice trembling. “You found your way back.”

I rushed forward, and Aine embraced me tightly. It was like being wrapped in warmth and memory. Aine had always been a mystery in my childhood—an aunt who visited rarely, spoke in riddles, and left behind feathers and strange trinkets. I had never understood her until now. Mom always said that she could only see us when she had business close by, but when Mom died, I couldn’t even find a way to contact her.

“I didn’t know you were from here,” I whispered.

Aine pulled back, her expression a mix of joy and concern. “I hoped you wouldn’t remember. Not yet.”

“But I did. I dreamed of this place. I shaped fire. I belong here.”

Aine’s smile faltered. “That’s what worries me.”

I frown. “Why?”

“You didn’t just dream your way here, Emberleaf. You used your power. You tore through the veil between worlds. That kind of magic—it leaves a mark.”

I heart skipped. “A mark?”

Aine nodded, glancing around. “The Eerie will feel it.”

“Aine, that is ridiculous. This is just a place I created in my mind. To help me deal with the loss of my mom. A place where I can belong and be myself. Somewhere that I don’t have to be the adult, where I can enjoy being me. As for why you are here, it must be because I miss you, and I needed something that reminded me of Mom.”

“Mo, you shouldn’t be here. You need to return to the human world and stay there. You are too young for what is to come. Please return to your world, and when you are older, I will bring you back, and you can do what you need to do,” Aine says. Aine was always gentle in her speech, never speaking harshly, but now, as she tells me to leave this world and not return, my heart breaks. While I have been here, I have heard stories of the Eerie but never seen any.

The Eerie were shadowy beings that roamed the edges of Aeloria, drawn to imbalance and disruption. They weren’t fairies. They weren’t anything I could name. They were watchers, enforcers, and sometimes… destroyers.

“I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” I say.

“I know,” Aine replied gently. “But power doesn’t care about intention. It echoes.”

As if summoned by the word, the glade darkened.

The light dimmed. The trees stilled. The air grew cold.

Aine’s wings flared protectively. “We have to move. Now.”

But it was too late.

From the shadows between the trees, they emerged—tall, thin figures cloaked in mist and silence. Their eyes glowed faintly, like dying embers. They didn’t walk. They drifted.

I felt my flame flicker inside me, responding to their presence. It curled around me like fingers, defensive and wild.

The Eerie stopped a few feet away. One tilted its head, as if studying me.

“She is not of this time,” it said, voice like wind through bone.

“She is of both,” another replied.

“She crossed unbidden,” a third hissed.

Aine stepped forward. “She is kin. She is learning.”

“She is dangerous,” the first said.

My flame surged. “I didn’t mean to come here. I just… I needed to.”

The Eerie turned their gaze to her. “Need is not permission.”

Aine placed a hand on my shoulder. “She’s young. Let me guide her.”

The Eerie were silent. Then one raised a hand, and a ripple of cold swept through the glade.

“She may stay,” it said. “But she must not cross again. Not until the veil is mended.”

“But she needs to return in the morning,” Aine says, pushing me behind her.

“That is not permitted,” The Eerie say

“If she stays here, she could die in her realm,” Aine argues again.

“You asked, she stays until she is trained, and she mends the veil.” The cold blasts across the glade.

The Eerie faded, their forms dissolving into mist. The light returned slowly, hesitantly.

Aine exhaled. “This is not good.”

I looked at my hands; the flame was now calm. “I didn’t know I could do that.”

“You’re stronger than you realize,” Aine said. “But strength without guidance is a storm.”

I nod. “Then teach me.”

Aine smiled, bittersweet. “I will. But we must be careful. Aeloria is beautiful, yes—but it is fragile. And you, Emberleaf, are a spark that could ignite more than you know.”

“So can I come again tomorrow night?” I ask as I continue to bask in the sunlight finally streaming through the trees.

“Mo, you aren’t allowed to leave. That means that for the time being, you can’t go back to the human realm.” Aine says sadly.

“But what about Milo. I can’t stay here forever. Milo is going to worry if I am sleeping all the time,” I say in a panicked voice.

“I will go and tell him that I am in town and visiting and that you are ill. You need sleep. That will give us a few days. But time works differently here. One hour here is a week in the human realm. We need to make sure that you are trained quickly. Stay here, I will go visit Milo and tell him. But, Mo, there is something that you must know: if you fail the training, the Eerie may never let you return home,” Aine says sadly.

After giving me some instructions, Aine disappears, and I sit beside the river, trying to call water while the thoughts in my mind race with what happens if I can’t return.

What will happen to Milo

What will happen to my body in the human realm?

What am I?