The wind was strong that afternoon. It blew through the village, lifting leaves into little dances and making the windows rattle like soft drums.
Elira sat on the porch with the silver ring in her hand. She had kept it close ever since she found it in Nana's cupboard. It made her feel safe, like her mother was nearby.
Nana brought out a blanket and wrapped it around Elira's shoulders.
"Storm's coming soon," Nana said. "Best stay inside after supper."
Elira nodded, but her eyes were on the trees beyond the village. They waved and whispered like they were calling her.
Later that evening, while Nana made soup, Elira sat by the window. She couldn't stop thinking about the cupboard, the dream, and the golden-eyed girl who said, "You have magic in you."
The wind blew again. This time, something floated past the window.
It looked like a piece of paper.
Elira stood quickly and opened the door. The wind tugged at her hair and tickled her cheeks. She stepped outside and looked around.
There, caught on a bush near the gate, was a folded piece of paper.
She ran over and grabbed it gently. The paper was soft and thin, with little tears at the edges. It was tied with a red string.
Elira untied it and opened the note.
There were no words.
Only a drawing.
It showed a path through the forest, a circle of standing stones, and in the center—a tree with silver leaves.
Elira's heart jumped.
The Heart Tree.
She turned the paper over. In the corner, drawn in tiny golden ink, was a small eye. It looked just like the golden-eyed girl from her dream.
A message. But from who?
She folded the note and tucked it inside her sweater. She didn't tell Nana right away. This secret felt quiet, like something meant just for her.
That night, rain tapped on the roof like tiny fingers, but Elira didn't sleep.
She sat up in bed and held the silver ring, thinking.
Was the forest trying to guide her?
Was the golden-eyed girl watching?
And who sent the drawing?
She remembered the wolf's voice in her dream.
You're ready to remember.
Elira stood and tiptoed to the window. The rain had slowed. The clouds moved like ships across the sky.
She didn't go outside. Not yet.
But she pressed the paper to her heart and whispered, "I'm listening."
The wind outside paused, just for a second, like it was listening too.