: Dust an
Person (S
the relentless August sun. I stood at the edge of the Spring of Willow Creek, it
sacred texts of the Willow Creek Sisterhood. I was their strong heroine, destined to become High S
who dare defy it. I believed that. Until that night, when a mysterious
hum of cicadas, as I led my sisters; Lila, barely sixt
ystical oasis fed by underground streams, its
y had drilled that into me since I was old enough to read the sacred texts, their war
en Lila gasped, her flashlight beam sl
a man; half-dead, his body a map of ruin. His skin was blister
ith fear. "He's an outsider," Hannah his
eemed to shimmer around his broken form, as if the sta
a battle. Up close, his scars told stories of survival: jagged lines across
hing her prayer beads. "The sacred
s skin was fever-hot, but his hazel eyes flickered open, locking wi
mystical secrets I wasn't ready to face. For a moment, I felt it; a magi
ed, my voice barely audi
is gaze unwavering,
at my sleeve, bu
" I said, my voice firm. "Th
"You'll answer to the
snapped, my defiance
t this choice felt bigger than duty, bigger
shoulder. The other sisters stared as we passed the woode
her eyes sharp with suspicion. As High Sister, she carried the we
anded, her voice cutti
he only word he'd rasped when I pressed
an who'd once held power but now carried only scars. I should'
who looked like they'd fought wars and
examined him, her fingers trac
red. "The spirits cling to hi
pered, clutching
y pocket. It was a relic passed down through generations, its parc
e the prayer hall, but now it fel
low. I fetched water from the Spring of Wi
is eyes fluttered, and for a moment, I saw it again; that hidden power, a spark that could torch cities
ant. He didn't reply, but his gaze held mine,
, this man is no accident. The river spirits don't stir
The spirits would've taken him
d. "Or they sent
scroll. Mother's words echoed the sacred texts: Beware th
ilent except for the distant howl of coyotes. My hands shook as I unrolle
if kissed by fire, and the
he plains shall choose. From blood and
felt alive, pulsing with a mystical destiny I couldn'
t kind
Willow Creek, or a forbidden p
candle flame flickering as if stirred by an unseen wind. I thought of Mason's hazel
the world beyond the
sen one, like me, bound to a cla
face pale. "Sarah, the High Assembly knows about the s
g, their rules carved in stone. Bringing an outsider
they'd cast him out or worse. An
ll them?" I aske
But Hannah... she said he's dange
clenched my fists, the prophecy scroll crinkling in my grip. Mason's bitter grace, h
ur sacred home, a man whose fir
nswers. I needed to know who Mason was, why the river spi
above bright and unyielding, l
rt. The cot where Mason lay was empty, th
he f
omeone t
of Willow Creek in the distance, pulsing like a heartbeat. The pro
nd hope warring in my chest. Was Mason there, dra
forbidden prophecy, a sign that the
prophecy scroll searing Sarah's skin. Is Mason the Starborn