The quiet solace of Elara's garden had always been her refuge. The scent of lavender and honeysuckle lingered in the air, a faint breeze rustling the leaves. Yet tonight, as she sat amidst the blooms she had nurtured, the box resting on her lap shattered any semblance of peace. Her fingers trembled as she lifted the lid.
Inside, bundles of dried herbs, a tarnished silver key, and a leather-bound diary greeted her. The diary's cracked spine carried a weight that Elara could almost feel in her chest. She hesitated before touching it, as though the worn leather might burn her fingers.
The first page bore Maeve's handwriting, looping and familiar, but it was the words themselves that sent a chill down Elara's spine. They spoke of ancient forces, of a veil separating their world from a realm of shadows and forgotten power. Elara's eyes darted across the entries, her heart quickening with every revelation.
"A Child of Silence will rise. Salvation or destruction lies in their hands."
Elara swallowed hard, her breath hitching. Silence had defined her for years, a curse that had stolen her voice. The idea was absurd—how could Maeve have meant her? And yet, her pulse raced with the possibility.
"She always did believe in prophecy," Elara murmured aloud, her voice hoarse. She traced the diary's spine again, her thoughts tangled with Maeve's warnings.
Behind her, a soft voice broke the stillness of the garden. "Elara?"
Startled, she turned sharply to find Hal leaning against the gatepost, his expression laced with concern. "I thought you'd be asleep by now."
Elara clutched the diary closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "This... it was Maeve's. She left it for me."
"What's written in there?" Hal's gaze flicked toward the open box, lingering on the silver key. His jaw tightened. "You look pale."
"They're just words—just shadows in ink," she replied, though her voice faltered. "Maeve wrote about darkness. Prophecies, the veil, and... something about a Child of Silence."
"Child of Silence?" Hal stepped closer, his brows knit. "Elara, what does that mean?"
"I don't know," she admitted, her hands shaking slightly. "But... it feels like she meant me."
Hal studied her, his face softening. "Maeve trusted you. Maybe she saw something in you that you don't yet see in yourself."
Elara stared down at the tarnished key in the box. "She mentioned a chamber beneath the old mill. Something she stored there. I need to see it."
Hal hesitated before nodding. "If you're going, I'm going too."
For a moment, she almost smiled. "I don't even know what we'll find."
"Then let's find it together," he said firmly, his voice steadying her nerves. "Maeve didn't leave this to you lightly."