《Veil of Lledrith》 Chapter 1: Before the Veil A tapestry of scent, woven from pine needles and warming earth, hung heavy in the still morning air. Rowan shivered, pulling her black oversized hoodie tighter around her as she settled onto the worn wooden rocking chair on the wrap-around porch. Dawn painted the sky with streaks of pink and orange, but the vibrant colors seemed muted somehow. An old cherry tree stood sentinel in front of the old farm house. Rowan''s mind wandered to childhood summers spent here: the endless days of picking cherries, staining her fingers crimson; the sticky sweetness of her grandmother''s homemade pies, the comforting routine of farm life. Grandpa would usually be out by the barn already, whistling along to the radio, the cheerful tune carrying across the fields. Her mother never accompanied her on those trips, and the reason for her absence was a topic that was never discussed. Perhaps it was because everyone knew the reason and discussing it was considered in bad taste. Rowan never asked, and no one offered an explanation. Rowan hadn''t minded, not really. She savored that time with her grandma. They would rise with the sun to collect fresh eggs, the warm shells still carrying the hens'' body heat. She remembered how they felt against her palm as she gathered them into her apron ¨C smooth, fragile, warm, a stark contrast to the cool morning air. Back on the porch, they''d enjoy breakfast together: toast slathered with homemade jam and steaming mugs of tea, the clinking of spoons against china was the only sound besides the distant birdsong. Afterwards, they might wander down to the pond, tossing breadcrumbs to the eager fish, or venture into the old barn to peek at the newest litter of barn cats. They would be nearly invisible, swallowed by the mountain of hay, tiny paws tucked beneath their chins as they slept soundly, unaware of the morning commotion. The rocking chair creaked with a familiar rhythm as she shifted her weight. The sound brought her back to present day. Rowan breathed out a sigh and stood to her feet. Even the air felt different now. Heavier somehow. She turned towards the old screen door, its hinges groaning in protest as she began to push it open. "Hey!" She heard a deep male voice call out from a distance. Rowan turned in the direction of the voice. A few yards away, a young man with dark tousled hair walked briskly up the drive. He looked familiar, but it was taking her longer than she liked to place his face. He moved with an easy confidence that suggested he belonged here, yet his presence felt unexpected. Sensing her confusion, he slowed pace and smiled softly. "Sorry, maybe you don''t remember me. Ellery, Ellery Thorne. We used to play together when we were kids." Rowan''s brow furrowed, her mind scrambling to match the name to his face. He chuckled, a self-deprecating glint in his eyes. "My parents live just down the road. Well, lived," he corrected himself, a shadow flitting across his expression. "I live there now, I guess." Her furrowed brows relaxed as she finally recalled a boy a little older than her who lived about half a mile away. At the time, his family was the closest neighbor they had, but since then, a few others had come to live on their short, unpaved road. Ellery had grown into a handsome man. His dark hair framed a face that had lost its boyish roundness, replaced with strong, defined features. His deep green eyes held a genuine warmth that belied the cool morning air. He wore a faded flannel shirt and dark jeans. "Ellery," she said, her voice a little shaky. "It''s been a while." Ellery''s smile widened, a hint of relief in his eyes. "Yeah, it has," he agreed. "I wasn''t sure you''d remember me at all," he confessed, shifting his weight slightly. "Of course I remember," Rowan replied, a smile touching her lips. "How many bones did you break climbing that oak tree near your house?" Ellery threw back his head and laughed, a rich, full-bodied sound that echoed through the morning stillness. "Too many," he admitted, glancing back towards her, his eyes still smiling brightly. "Your grandpa wanted me to check in on the farm... on you, actually." He turned towards the fields, his gaze sweeping over the familiar landscape. "If you need any help, you know, with anything... I''m familiar with the place. I used to help him out from time to time- mostly with the fences but also with the horses." Rowan''s fingers twisted in the frayed hem of her hoodie, a nervous habit she thought she''d outgrown. The horses. Her grandpa had kept them for her even though she rarely visited anymore. It was holidays, mostly, or the occasional long weekend when homesickness gnawed at her. A phone call, a hastily packed bag, and she''d be here, breathing in the familiar scent of hay and honeysuckle, the ache in her chest easing with every familiar sight. But it was a temporary fix. A few days, maybe a week, and then she''d be gone again, the city would always beckon her back before long. Guilt pricked at her, and she offered Ellery a tight smile. "I... I could use the help," Rowan admitted, her gaze flickering towards the weathered barn in the distance. "Thank you, Ellery." "Of course," he replied, his eyes following her gaze. An uncomfortable silence settled between them, filled only with the rustle of leaves and distant bird songs. Rowan traced a crack in the porch''s worn floorboards with the toe of her shoe. "How are your folks doing, by the way?" she asked, hoping to break the tension. Ellery''s easy smile faltered, his gaze dropping to the ground. "They... they passed away," he said, his voice tight. "Recently. A car accident, on their way home from..." He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. "Ellery, I''m so sorry," Rowan interrupted. Ellery presses his lip together slightly. He stared intently at her for a moment, as if searching her face for something before smiling sadly. "It''s okay," he said in a tone just above a whisper. In a tone that said that it was anything but okay. The weight of his words hung in the air. "It''s...it''s been tough." The weight of his grief hung heavy in the air, a palpable presence between them. Rowan felt a cool breeze against her face as she inhaled deeply, suddenly aware that she had been holding her breath. Ellery looked away for a moment, his jaw clenched, before meeting her eyes again. He gave a shaky sigh. "I should go," Ellery said, his voice rough. "I''ll let you get back to your morning. I''ll stop by tomorrow to see what you need help with." Rowan offered him a warm, genuine smile. "Thank you, Ellery. It means a lot," she replied, her voice soft and sincere. - As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the farm, Rowan found herself drawn back to the porch. The sky blazed with deep orange and vibrant pink as she sank into the wooden chair once again, her body aching from the day''s exertions ¨C unfamiliar muscles protesting the unaccustomed work of stacking firewood and mucking out stalls. A cool evening breeze swept through the trees, carrying the scent of earth and hay. The porch creaked softly as she slid back in her seat, her gaze wandering over the landscape. The horses in the stable nickered softly, their silhouettes barely visible in the growing darkness. A familiar tightness settled in Rowan''s chest. Eyes closed, she inhaled deeply, attempting to invoke a remnant of nostalgia, a feeling that seemed to elude her. Perhaps it was the yearning for the childhood she left here each time she returned to city. But everything felt different now. Heavier, she thought, her mind turning to her grandparents. Miles away, in a sterile hospital room, her grandmother lay in bed, her grandfather dozing fitfully in a nearby chair, clinging to the precious remaining hours of visiting time. A sudden rustling sound pierced the stillness, and Rowan''s eyes flew open. Her heart hammered against her ribcage. She scanned the shadows, her gaze darting from the swaying branches to the darkened corners of the porch. Her eyes, still adjusting to the dim light, struggled to make sense of the shapes and movements around her. A sleek figure emerged from the darkness, moving with the stealthy grace of a seasoned hunter. It paused at the edge of the porch, its form a black silhouette against the moonlight. It was one of the barn cats, its fur black like the night, barely visible in moonlight. It was one of the barn cats, its ebony fur blended seamlessly with the night. As it padded closer, tension drained from her shoulders, and she unconsciously softened her posture. Bending down, she extended a hand, and the cat brushed against her fingers, a soft purr rumbling in its chest. "Hello there" Rowan purred back, a genuine smile finally gracing her lips. With a practiced movement, she scooped the cat into her arms, its weight a comforting presence against her.The cat smelled of hay and dust and something wild, something that spoke of the woods and the night. "Did you come to keep me company?" she asked softly, burying her face in its soft fur. The cat purred louder, nuzzling against her cheek. A warmth spread through her, chasing away some of the chill that had settled around her heart. Rising from the chair, she decided to head inside for a nightcap, the cat nestled securely in her arms. Inside the house, the air was sweet with the faint scent of lavender and old wood. Rowan set the cat down near the cold hearth and struck a match, the sulfurous scent momentarily stinging her nostrils. She tossed the match into the kindling nestled beneath larger pieces of birch, watching as the flames caught and licked at the wood with growing enthusiasm. The fire crackled and popped, sending sparks dancing up the chimney. The warm glow cast long shadows that danced across the room, their movement a stark contrast to the oppressive stillness. Rowan sauntered to the kitchen, her bare feet moving softly on the worn floorboards. She retrieved a decanter of amber liquid and a small glass from the old oak cabinet. After tossing a few ice cubes into the glass, she tilted the bottle, the amber liquid awakening the ice with a chorus of clinks and pops; the chattering against the glass a crystalline counterpoint to the crackling fire. She made her way to a worn armchair by the hearth, sinking into its familiar embrace she barely registered the creak of the leather. The cat curled up on the rug, a black inkblot against the faded canvas. Rowan sipped her drink, the whiskey burning a fiery trail down her throat and deep into her stomach. Her thoughts drifted once more, to her grandparents, to Ellery, to her mother. She took a slightly longer sip and savored the burn, letting her mind wander before closing her eyes, the weight of exhaustion pulling her into a deep sleep. - Rowan awoke with a jolt to the sound of thunder cracking like a whip in the distance. The room was dark, the once vibrant fire reduced to a faint glow of embers. Outside, the wind howled, rattling the windows and sending leaves skittering across the porch. A jagged bolt of lightning split the sky, momentarily illuminating the room in a stark white light. The cat hissed and darted under the couch. Rowan, heart pounding in her chest, rose and moved to the window, peering out into the tempest. The trees thrashed violently, their branches clawing at the house. Rain fell hard against the glass, driven by the fierce wind. Suddenly, a deafening crack split the air. Rowan''s heart leapt into her throat as the sound reverberated through the house. The impact shook the very foundations of the house, sending dust and debris raining down from the ceiling. Rain water poured in, cascading around her like a waterfall. For a moment, she sat frozen, her mind struggling to process what had just happened. She looked up to see a giant hole in the ceiling and a branch penetrating that hole. The wind whipped through the house, scattering the cold ashes from the hearth and sending them swirling through the air. The cat, its eyes wide with fear, emerged from its hiding place. Rowan scooped it up, clutching it close as she moved away from the window, her bare feet slipping against the smooth wooden floor as it filled with water. The house creaked and shuddered. Panic clawed at her throat, but she forced it down, her gaze frantically searching for a place of refuge. She spotted the small closet under the stairs.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Clutching the cat, Rowan scrambled towards the closet, squeezing inside and pulling the door shut with a desperate thud. The latch clicked shut, sealing her in the darkness. The small space pressed in on her, filled with the musty scent of mothballs. Cobwebs brushed her cheeks as she sank onto the cold, hard floor, the cat a trembling weight in her lap. The wind howled, and the rain lashed against the walls, each gust and torrent a hammer blow against the fragile house. Each gust of wind and peal of thunder made her flinch and burrow deeper into the hanging clothes behind her, her body tensing in expectation of some unseen impact. The floorboards groaned beneath her, the clothes swayed, making her feel as if the whole world were also tilting and swaying. She curled her self further around the cat. The minutes stretched into hours as she fought to stay awake, her mind a whirlwind of anxieties, but exhaustion eventually wore her down. She drifted in and out of a restless sleep, haunted by fragmented dreams alternating between brief moments of languid wakefulness. She dreamt of shadowy figures, their whispers echoing the wind''s howl. Each time she blinked awake, the shadows lingered, bleeding into the darkness before morphing back into hanging clothing as her brain struggled to put reality back together again. - Pale light seeped through the cracks in the closet door, painting a thin line across Rowan''s face. She blinked awake, fighting the remnants of sleep that clung to her eyelids. It was quiet; morning had arrived.The silence was almost deafening after the cacophony of the storm. The small black cat still lay in her arms, fast asleep, its fur soft and warm against her skin. Rowan could feel its soft purring as a gentle vibration against her chest, a comforting rhythm in the stillness. A soft knocking echoed from somewhere beyond the closet walls, breaking that stillness. Disoriented, Rowan glanced around the cramped space. Where...? She carefully shifted the sleeping cat, her body protesting the night spent folded in the cramped darkness. She stood, muscles stiff and aching. Pushing open the door, she was greeted by the cool, damp air and the smell of wet wood, ozone, and rain-soaked earth. The knocking grew more insistent, a steady beat that mirrored the pounding in her chest. Rowan crossed the room, her bare feet stepping over debris scattered across the floor. She winced as a splinter pierced her skin. Hesitantly, she opened the front door. Ellery stood framed in the doorway, his deep green eyes etched with concern. For a fleeting moment, his presence calmed her, but then her gaze shifted past him. The barn was a mangled wreck, trees lay uprooted, including her grandmother''s beloved cherry tree-a landmark of her childhood now reduced to splinters. "Rowan, are you alright?" Ellery''s voice was sharp with worry. "I saw the damage..." She managed a shaky nod. "I''m okay. Just...shaken." Ellery stepped inside, his boots crunching on shattered glass and splintered wood. He surveyed the gaping hole in the roof, where rain dripped steadily onto the ruined floor. "I can''t believe it," Rowan whispered, her voice catching in her throat. "I''ve never seen anything like this." Ellery turned, his green eyes shadowed, his damp hair clinging to his forehead. He looked as though he''d stepped out of the storm itself. "That," he said quietly, "isn''t the strangest part." - Rowan stood at the end of the driveway, out by the old dirt road. Across the road, farms stretched into the distance, untouched by the storm. The morning sun cast a golden hue over the fields, a stark contrast to the devastation behind her.Not a single broken branch, not a single fallen tree. Just the gentle sway of wheat fields in the morning breeze. It was as if the storm had deliberately targeted her farm, leaving everything else untouched. "Your farm is the only one that seems to have any damage," Ellery said, his voice hushed, more to himself than to Rowan. Rowan''s hands trembled. "I don''t understand," she whispered. "How is that even possible? The trees... they look like they were ripped from the earth." Ellery frowned, his brow furrowed in confusion. "I don''t know. It doesn''t make any sense."He ran a hand through his damp hair. Silence fell between them, punctuated by the distant sound of song birds, oblivious to the chaos that had unfolded. He turned to Rowan. "You can''t stay here tonight," he said, his voice firm. "It''s not safe."She hadn''t expected such genuine concern from him. His green eyes, which had seemed merely amused moments before, now held a depth of emotion that caught her off guard. Uncertainty clouded Rowan''s features. "Where else would I go? I promised to look after the farm." Ellery hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground. "You can stay at my place," he offered, his voice softening. Ellery''s offer hung in the air. The scent of rain-soaked earth filled Rowan''s senses, mingling with the faintest hint of woodsmoke from somewhere nearby. Ellery''s place... A hazy image of the small house with a green roof and rambling rose bushes flickered in her mind. The thought emerged, unexpected and unwelcome, yet it carried with it a strange sense of familiarity. She glanced back at the farmhouse, its broken silhouette a stark contrast to the warmth in Ellery''s eyes. "I don''t know," she murmured, her voice barely audible. Ellery stepped closer, and the scent of woodsmoke grew stronger. It was a comforting aroma, grounding. He didn''t need to voice the reassurance; it was in his eyes, in the gentle tilt of his head, in the way his gaze held hers without faltering. "You wouldn''t be imposing," he said gently. "I want to help." His words were a balm to her anxieties, a quiet affirmation of the support she hadn''t realized she craved. "Okay," she finally agreed, her voice steady. Ellery nodded, relief washing over his features. "Let''s get your things," he said, turning towards the house. - Rowan moved through the damp stillness of the house, gathering a few essentials: a toothbrush, a change of clothes. Her fingers lingered on a faded photograph on the dresser-her, her mother, her grandparents, their smiles frozen in time. She quickly tucked it into her bag. Don''t think about it, she told herself, pushing down the wave of sadness that threatened to engulf her. Ellery waited patiently by the door, his gaze following her slender silhouette as it moved against the dim light filtering through the windows. When she finally turned to him, her eyes were red-rimmed but resolute. They stepped out into the morning light. The walk to Ellery''s house was short, but the silence between them stretched it out, each footfall a heavy thud against the damp earth. Rowan breathed in the cool morning air, the scent of pine needles and damp leaves filling her lungs. The small dirt path to Ellery''s place wound through a cathedral of towering pines, their branches interlacing overhead to create a tapestry of light and shadow. As if emerging from a dream, Ellery''s house came into view: a small farmhouse with a cheerful green roof, rambling rose bushes spilling over the porch railing, and a weathered swing swaying gently in the breeze. A wisp of smoke curled from the chimney, a wisp of memory curling in her mind. They climbed the stairs to the porch, the weathered wood groaning softly beneath their weight. Ellery opened the door, gesturing for Rowan to enter. The air inside was warm, carrying the faint, comforting scent of leather and woodsmoke. He led her through the living room now bathed in the soft glow of morning light, then down a narrow hallway and up a set of creaking stairs. "This is the spare bedroom," Ellery said, opening a door to reveal a small, inviting room with a slanted ceiling and a window overlooking the woods. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. The bed was neatly made with a patchwork quilt, and a worn wooden dresser stood against one wall. "Thank you, Ellery," Rowan said, her voice subdued. She stepped into the room, setting her backpack on the bed. Ellery lingered in the doorway, his expression unreadable. She couldn''t quite decipher the emotions swirling in his eyes, but there was a depth there, an intensity that made her shift slightly, uneasily. "I''ll let you get settled," he said finally. "I''ll start on dinner. Just come out when you''re ready." Rowan nodded, offering him a small, grateful smile. As he left, she turned her attention to unpacking, the simple act of arranging her few belongings in the unfamiliar dresser drawers unnerved her a little. - When she finally emerged from the bedroom, the scent of a savory stew, rich with herbs and spices, drew her down the stairs. The aroma led her to the kitchen, where Ellery was busy at the stove. The air was filled with the comforting scents of simmering vegetables and something that was dark and umami. Rowan took a seat at the small kitchen table, its worn surface smooth beneath her fingertips. The room was cozy, the shelves lined with jars of preserves and dried herbs that hung in bunches from the ceiling. Ellery turned, a wooden spoon in hand, and smiled. "Hungry?" Rowan returned the smile, a genuine warmth spreading through her. "It smells amazing." He set two steaming bowls on the table - a hearty stew filled with pieces of tender beef, potatoes, carrots, and fragrant herbs simmered in a rich broth. The aroma filled the small kitchen, mingling with the lingering scent of cinnamon and cloves. As they ate, Rowan couldn''t help but steal glances at Ellery, each one a silent exploration of his features. His face was a study in contrasts - rugged yet refined, with a strong jawline and high cheekbones that caught the light. His hair, a rich black, curled slightly at the temples, just long enough to brush the collar of his worn flannel shirt. But it was his eyes that held her attention-a startling, vibrant emerald green. She had the distinct impression that he was aware of her scrutiny, a subtle awareness that hummed beneath the surface of their quiet meal. "My grandmother''s recipe," he said, his voice a low rumble that broke through her thoughts. "She always said it was the perfect cure for a stormy night." Startled, Rowan lowered her gaze, a warmth creeping up her neck. "It''s really good," she replied returning her attention to the food once more. She did not look up again for the rest of the meal. After dinner, Rowan helped Ellery clean, their movements surprisingly synchronized in the small space. When the kitchen was tidy, Ellery leaned against the counter, observing her with a thoughtful expression. "If you need anything, my room is just down the hall," he said, his voice low. "Don''t hesitate to knock." "Thank you, Ellery," Rowan replied, meeting his gaze with a warmth that surprised even her. - Rowan woke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the faded floral curtains. The air was still, filled with the gentle hum of the house and the distant chirping of birds. A faint scent of greenery wafted in from an open window. Memories of the previous day - the storm, the damage, the encounter with Ellery - slowly surfaced bringing with them a wave of anxiety. She pushed the feeling aside, swung her legs out of bed, and stood, the cool wood floor a stark contrast to the warmth of the bed.The floorboards creaked softly as she crossed the room to the small, antique mirror that hung on the wall. Her reflection stared back at her ¨C pale and tired, with dark circles under her eyes. Quickly pulling on jeans and an oversized sweater, she headed to the kitchen. Ellery was already up, standing by the stove with a cup of coffee in hand. He turned as she entered, offering her a warm smile. "Good morning," he said, his voice gentle. "Morning," Rowan muttered, her voice still thick with sleep. She reached for a giant mug that resembled a small bowl and poured herself coffee. She brought the steaming brew to her lips as she peered out the window at a small garden in the side yard. It looked reasonably well-kept. "Do you live alone?" she asked, the question tumbling out before she could stop it. The question hung in the air, startling both of them. Ellery met her gaze, his eyes a striking emerald green, or how Rowan, who had never actually seen an emerald, imagined they looked anyway. "I do," Ellery finally replied. "And you?" "I do," she answered, her voice still quiet. She glanced up to find Ellery''s eyes sparkling with amusement. He knew that already or maybe...did he mean her place in the city?The thought sent a strange flutter through her stomach. "I should probably call my grandpa," she said quickly, changing the subject. "I should have called him yesterday, but-" Ellery nodded understandingly. "Of course. There''s a phone in the living room." Grateful for the escape, Rowan hurried to the living room. The room was bathed in soft morning light that streamed through the lace curtains, casting intricate patterns on the worn rug. With trembling hands, she picked up the old rotary phone from the small table by the window. The phone was heavy and cold, its black paint chipped and faded. and dialed her a number. She dialed the number, the rotary dial clicking with each turn. It rang a few times before her grandfather''s gruff voice answered. "Hello?" "Grandpa, it''s Rowan," she said, her voice wavering slightly. "Rowan. How are you, dear? Grandma and I were just talking about you! She''s right here, say hello." Rowan''s heart sank. How could she tell him the farm had been destroyed? They were already going through so much. "Hey, Grandma! I miss you too," she spoke through the phone, forcing cheerfulness into her voice. She could hear her grandmother''s faint voice in the background, a fragile whisper. They chatted for a while, her grandparents describing their time at the hospital. They spoke of the friendly staff, the nearby caf¨¦ where her grandpa got them breakfast, and their daily crossword puzzles. They seemed to be finding a sense of normalcy. But as she hung up the phone, a weight settled on her chest. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She returned to the kitchen, where Ellery was preparing breakfast. The aroma of eggs and bacon filled the air. He looked up, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "How did it go?" he asked. "I-I didn''t tell him," Rowan admitted, sitting down at the table. "I just-couldn''t." Ellery nodded, his expression soft and understanding. "I get it". They ate breakfast in comfortable silence. The bacon was crispy, the eggs perfectly cooked, and the coffee strong and hot. Despite everything, Rowan felt a sense of calm in Ellery''s presence. It was a strange dichotomy ¨C the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on her, yet she somehow felt safe and secure in his small, cozy kitchen. She watched Ellery as he ate, his movements deliberate and efficient. He exuded a quiet strength that both intrigued and intimidated her. As they finished, Ellery began clearing the dishes, his gaze lingering on Rowan for a moment. He seemed to be waiting for her to speak, to break the silence between them. His eyes held hers for a beat too long, a flicker of something unreadable crossed his features. After a moment he turned and carried the dishes to the sink. The sound of running water filled the silence. Chapter 2: Unveiling The rumble of Ellery''s truck faded into the distance, leaving a silence that felt heavy and expectant. "I just need to pick up a few things the old man doesn''t keep around," Ellery had said, his voice casual, almost dismissive. The phrase echoed in Rowan''s mind. The old man. The casualness of the phrase struck Rowan. Ellery must have known exactly what her grandfather kept on hand, if he could assess that without taking inventory first. He''d been oddly calm about the animals too, informing her that they were already safely with a neighbor. A wave of gratitude washed over her, tinged with a familiar pang of guilt. Ellery was taking charge, handling the practicalities she hadn''t even begun to process. It was a welcome relief, but it also underscored her own absence, her inability to be there for her grandfather in a way Ellery clearly had been. It was a familiar feeling, one that always seemed to accompany her return to the farm- the sense of being an outsider, a visitor in a place that should feel like home. Standing in the kitchen, Rowan held a steaming mug of coffee, the ceramic warm in her hands, and peered out the window at a small garden in the side yard. Ellery must have been maintaining it. She hadn''t pictured him as someone with a green thumb. Several flowers and plants looked completely unfamiliar to her. Maybe it was his mother''s garden, a living memorial tended with quiet devotion. Her thoughts drifted back to their conversation about his parents. She hadn''t mentioned them again, unsure whether it was rude to bring them up or to avoid the topic entirely. Talking about death had always been difficult for her, even after losing her own mother. Ellery''s smile had faltered when he spoke of his parents, a brief flicker of sadness in his eyes before he quickly masked it. Was that why she hesitated to bring them up again? Was she afraid of witnessing that vulnerability, a vulnerability that reminded her too much of her own grief? Then again, wasn''t that why everyone was hesitant to talk about death? The distant rumble of an engine broke through her reverie. Stepping outside, she shielded her eyes from the sun as Ellery pulled up the driveway, gravel crunching under the truck''s tires. It was a glorious day, the sky a clear, vibrant blue without a single cloud, and the warmth hinted at one of the last warm days before the inevitable chill of autumn. Ellery stepped out of the truck; the door slammed shut with a metallic clang. "They didn''t have everything, so I put an order in for the tools we needed," he explained, noticing her expression when she realized that he wasn''t carrying anything. "I guess I should have expected as much," Rowan replied. Ellery climbed the steps and settled onto the old porch swing, the wood creaking beneath him. The rusty chain pulled taut, chiming tinny, like bells. He gazed up at the perfectly blue sky, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "Well," he mused. The sunlight played across the thick waves of his dark brown hair, revealing hints of auburn where the light caught. "Do you want to go swimming?" He turned to her, a playful glint in his deep green eyes. - Rowan and Ellery walked through a wooded area, the canopy above casting shifting patterns of light and shadow onto the dirt path. Rowan wore shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt; Ellery wore his signature flannel and jeans. She kicked at a small rock, sending it skittering ahead, then another, trying to see how long she could keep it going. Occasionally, she would lose her rock, pick out another, rinse, repeat. "You haven''t changed," Ellery''s voice pulled her away from her game, causing her to miss the rock as she swung her foot forward. She glanced up to see that he was studying her, a warm curiosity in his eyes. "What do you mean?" Rowan asked casually as if she didn''t already know, but she did. Rowan had never been a "girly" girl, she preferred sensible clothes and only spoke when she felt she had something to say. She wasn''t shy- she just valued silence; thought it was underrated. So many people that she knew talked just to fill the space with noise. She found that exhausting. "Nothing. You just- I wasn''t sure what to expect," Ellery admitted, shrugging slightly. Rowan raised a challenging eyebrow at him. "Did you think I was going to come back as a sophisticated city lady?" she teased, changing her voice and improving her posture to imitate a "prim and proper" lady. She smiled widely, enjoying his reaction. Ellery laughed a little and shook his head. "I know better than that," he baited her, a teasing smile curving his lips. She took the bait. "Hey!" she exclaimed, playfully swinging her fist and making contact with his upper shoulder, the impact surprisingly solid. Ellery grinned. They arrived at the water hole and headed to a slightly overgrown clearing. There was still a small path down to the water, barely visible beneath a carpet of fallen leaves. A rope swing hung just before the edge, but it was old and frayed, the rope worn and faded. It didn''t look as though it would support her own weight, let alone Ellery''s. She grabbed the rope, looking up at the dead branch it was attached to, its bark peeling and gray. The rough, weathered texture of the rope scratched her palm. "I guess we won''t be using this today," she stated, a hint of disappointment in her voice as she inspected the tattered old rope. "I could always throw you in if you''re that upset about it," Ellery casually proposed, mischief glinting in his eyes. Rowan looked up from the rope to Ellery''s face and laughed lightly. His face remained neutral, a playful challenge in his gaze. "Don''t even think about it," she finally said, narrowing her eyes. Ellery''s smile widened. "Come on," he gestured toward the water. Before reaching the water''s edge, he peeled off his shirt, revealing a slightly tanned torso and a faint scar just below his collarbone. He pulled off his pants, revealing boxer briefs that he wore underneath. Rowan flushed and looked away, a little too fast. Ellery had noticed, but she refused to meet his gaze. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a small smile creep across his face. Ellery turned and started into the water, his footsteps leaving dark imprints on the damp earth. The air shimmered with the heat. A dragonfly with iridescent wings flitted past Rowan''s head as she pulled her shirt over her head and slipped down her denim shorts, revealing a dark blue sports bra and boy shorts underneath. She gathered up her clothes and tossed them towards the base of a gnarled oak tree, its leaves rustled softly in the warm breeze. Turning back to the water, she saw Ellery a few yards out, the water reaching his chest. He was staring at her, his gaze unwavering. Rowan froze, a blush creeping up her neck. Shamelessly he kept his eyes on her, lingering on her body with an intensity that made her skin tingle. Was he doing it on purpose, trying to make her blush? She held his gaze, refusing to look away. If this was a game, she wasn''t going to be the one who flinched first. A slow smile spread across his face. He turned and dove beneath the surface of the still water, disappearing for a moment before emerging again, his dark hair plastered to his forehead. "Are you coming?" he inquired, shaking his head, sending a spray of cool water into the air. She tentatively put a foot into the water; it was tepid, like bathwater, maybe slightly cooler than the air. The soft mud squished between her toes as she slowly waded in, making her way to the deeper side. With a sigh, she let herself float on her back, the sun warm on her face. Ellery floated nearby, drifting effortlessly, his long limbs moving with an easy grace. "I haven''t been out here in years," he confessed, his voice quiet in the stillness. Rowan casually paddled, leaving swirling trails in the water. "We don''t have any swimming spots on the farm," she said softly. "So, I would always get excited to come out here." She closed her eyes, letting the gentle rocking of the water carry her back to those carefree summer days. Ellery swam a bit closer, his strokes strong and effortless as he treaded water, sending ripples that disturbed the reflections of the cloudless sky on the water''s surface. The water at his feet, shaded by the overhanging willow branches, was slightly cooler than the water around his neck and torso, and the water lapping at his chest was noticeably cooler than the sunbaked air. Tiny droplets clung to his broad shoulders, catching the sunlight. "What happened?" he asked quietly. Rowan turned her head towards him, one arm lazily tracing patterns on the water and disturbing a small cluster of nearby lily pads. "What do you mean?" she asked, meeting his gaze. He blinked, a slight furrow in his brow, and then shrugged. "One day, it just felt like- you were gone, you know?" he said, a hint of sheepishness in his voice but his gaze didn''t falter, holding hers with an intensity that made her heart ache a bit. Rowan shifted in the water, the gentle current nudging her closer to him as she turned onto her stomach to face him fully. "I mean, we got older," she began, her voice barely above a whisper now, "and my mom...she..." She paused, "When she got sick, it was a lot." Her voice faded. A moment of silence punctuated her words, giving them weight, creating a heaviness that she did not intend. The stillness was shattered by a sudden flurry of wings and a chorus of urgent chirps, piercing the quiet intimacy that had settled between them. They looked up, startled, a shadow passing over them as a flock of starlings swooped and dove above them in a strangely coordinated pattern, their movements fluid and mesmerizing, like a dark ribbon weaving through the sky. "I''ve never seen them do that before," Rowan thought aloud, the birds momentarily distracting her from the weight of her memories. Ellery''s face, however, remained solemn, his gaze fixed on the swirling flock above, a flicker of unease in his eyes. "Hey, let''s go back," he suggested abruptly, his voice tight, already turning and swimming towards the shore before she could respond.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. - The fire glew brightly like a beacon in the deepening darkness, its flames casting a warm circle of light in the yard. Rowan and Ellery sat facing each other, bathed in the warm glow. Ellery leaned forward; his brow furrowed in concentration as he carefully turned the plump bird suspended above the flames on a makeshift spit. He had suggested dinner and a fire, but she had not expected this - a whole pheasant, its skin now glistening, hung above the crackling flames. "Look at you," Rowan teased. "When did you get to be so rustic?" Ellery looked up from the bird, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he met her gaze across the fire. "I stuffed it with herbs, compound butter, and oranges," he retorted. She chuckled softly, leaning back against a stack of worn logs. "That seems about right," she joked. "How did you learn to cook anyway?" she asked. Ellery''s gaze returned to the roasting bird, his expression becoming more guarded. "A friend taught me," he said simply, offering no further details. "A girlfriend?" she asked, raising an eyebrow with feigned amusement. "A boyfriend?" Ellery returned the raised eyebrow at her obviously probing question but he didn''t look up, his eyes remaining on the task. He leaned forward, the firelight catching the sharp angles of his face and glinting mischievously in his emerald eyes. "Just- a friend," he replied. Fair enough, she thought, turning her attention to the garden just outside the house. It was barely visible in the inky blackness. She had forgotten how absolute night was out here. When the sun went down, everything went black. "You don''t grow any vegetables," she observed, gesturing towards the garden a few yards away. Ellery''s eyes followed her gesture, then returned to the roasting pheasant. He grabbed a well-worn carving knife and reached for a plate that sat nearby. "My mother used to keep some vegetables, but now it''s mostly herbs and some other plants I picked up," he explained, his expression unchanged at the mention of his mother. "How long-how long have you been staying here?" she asked. Ellery began carving the pheasant, separating the meat from the bone and arranging it on the plate. He placed the platter beside them and reached for a dark bottle that he had been keeping close at hand. "Since my parents," he began but he did not finish, his voice barely audible above the crackling fire. He reached for two cups that were nestled beside the bottle. They were handmade ceramic mugs, each with a unique, slightly imperfect shape. He poured a generous amount of the dark liquid into one of the mugs and offered it to her. Rowan accepted it, peering into the glass and inhaling the aroma. It was wine - a deep red with earthy undertones. She took a sip and looked back at Ellery. "It''s good," she remarked, surprised by the complexity of the flavor. Ellery beamed, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "I made it," he confessed, pouring himself a glass. Rowan''s eyebrows rose in surprise. "Really?" she asked, taking another sip. It was truly delicious. She wasn''t a wine connoisseur by any means, but she enjoyed a glass on occasion, and this was one of the better ones she had tasted. "Just a hobby," he explained, taking a sip of his own. "I infuse the wine with herbs and experiment with the flavors. This one has rose hips and rosemary." Rowan took another sip, savoring the unique blend of flavors. She couldn''t quite place the taste before, but now that he mentioned it, the subtle hints of rose and rosemary were unmistakable. Ellery passed her a plate piled high with the tender pheasant meat. Rowan took the plate and inspected the pheasant, golden brown with a bit of char. She picked up a piece, the aroma of herbs and citrus rising to meet her as she took an enthusiastic bite. It was moist and flavorful. The seasonings were mild and didn''t overpower the meat. She must have made a noise she wasn''t aware of because Ellery chuckled. A blush warmed her cheeks as she set the pheasant back down, momentarily flustered. "Okay," she admitted, "that''s pretty good." "It''s just pheasant," Ellery said with a grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement, "but I appreciate the praise." - The pheasant was almost picked clean. Rowan brought a cool hand to her face and felt the warmth of the wine in her cheeks, it was a pleasant contrast to the cool night air. She was on her third glass. Or was it her fourth? Somehow, a second bottle of wine had materialized beside the first. Ellery must have fetched another bottle although she wasn''t sure when. The firelight danced in her vision, casting flickering shadows that made her surroundings seem fluid and indistinct, blurring the edges of her perception. "So, fill me in," she began, swirling the ruby liquid in the crude ceramic mug. "The last time I saw you, I was...seventeen?" Ellery glanced at her, then back to the flames that danced and crackled, sending the occasional spark spiraling up into the star filled sky. "Let''s see," he mused, tracing the rim of his own mug with his thumb. "I finished school..." He paused. Rowan leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, her gaze locked intently on Ellery. Wind rushed through overgrown branches above them, the leaves rustling like a wave against the vacuous night sky. But the edges of the world also seemed to dissolve into a soft haze, leaving only Ellery in sharp relief. Everything faded into a gentle blur. Focus, Rowan, she told herself, blinking as if trying to clear her vision. But the world refused to sharpen. "After school," he continued, his voice was low and thoughtful, "I pined a little. Over future plans I once dreamed of but knew would not be realized." He took a long drink from his mug, the firelight flickering across the strong column of his neck, painting his throat in shifting patterns of light and dark with each swallow. He lowered the mug. "And then I went to college." Rowan frowned. "Wait, what do you mean? What plans?" She could not help the curiosity that laced her voice. A slow smile spread across Ellery''s face. "You''re awfully curious about me," he noted, one eyebrow arching playfully. He leaned back in his seat, his gaze meeting hers. "What about you? What did Rowan Ellis do?" Rowan straightened, a touch of defiance in her eyes. "No fair," she declared. "I asked first." Ellery chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through the quiet night. "Are you five?" he teased. Rowan stuck her tongue out, a flash of childishness that surprised even herself. Just then, a jagged streak of lightning split the sky, momentarily illuminating the surrounding woods in an eerie white light. Rowan looked up, inspecting the sky as though she expected something to physically manifest above them. "Dry lightning," Ellery''s voice cut through her thoughts. His gaze now fixated on the fire, a contemplative expression on his face. "It''s been happening more often. That''s another strange thing," he added, his voice barely above a whisper. Rowan waited for him to elaborate, but he remained silent, lost in his own thoughts. "What do you mean?" she finally prompted; her curiosity piqued. Ellery lifted his gaze from the flames, his eyes meeting hers across the fire. The dancing light reflected in their depths. He held her gaze for a long moment, as if weighing his words. Then, with a sigh, he shifted in his seat. Another flash of lightning illuminated the night, revealing the intricate details of the surrounding woods - the gnarled branches of oak trees, the delicate ferns that carpeted the forest floor. "We haven''t had rain in forty-five days," he finally said, his voice quiet but firm. Rowan''s brow furrowed. "But yesterday-" "I know," Ellery interrupted. "And it''s not the only strange thing I''ve noticed." A shiver ran down Rowan''s spine. The storm had only hit her grandparents'' farm, leaving the surrounding area untouched. Forty-five days... he''d been counting. "Have you been here that long?" Rowan finally asked. Ellery took a deep drink from his cup, his expression briefly tightening. "It''s been two months now," he admitted. "Originally, I came back to take care of my parents'' accounts, the property, the... funeral." He paused, his gaze drifting towards the dark woods beyond the firelight. "But I started noticing unusual things... changes in the weather, irregular animal behavior, and then..." He faltered, his hesitation evident. Rowan leaned forward; her attention fixed. "What?" she urged. As if in answer to her question, another flash of lightning tore across the sky, momentarily pushing back the darkness. Rowan''s eyes widened. Standing at the edge of the woods was a creature, its eyes twin points of icy blue fire. The light vanished abruptly leaving only its eyes burning in the blackness. Ellery''s gaze followed Rowan''s, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the darkness at the edge of the woods. The creature stood utterly still, a shadow amongst shadows. It''s eyes like hot embers piercing through the depth of the night. "What is...?" Rowan''s whisper died in her throat. Ellery shook his head, jaw clenched. "I don''t know." With a measured grace that belied its size, the creature took a step forward, its form emerging from the shadows. It was tall and slender, with long limbs that ended in paws far too large for its gaunt frame. Its fur, the color of a moonless night, seemed to absorb all light, making it impossible to discern its true size. A low growl emanated from the creature''s throat. A primal fear, ancient and cold, settled over Rowan. It was a wolf. A real wolf, standing just beyond the firelight. She instinctively took a full step back. "Don''t run" Ellery''s voice pierced through the rush of chemicals being released in waves from within her lizard brain, that ancient core of fight-or-flight, screaming at her to do just that. The wolf took another step, a sinuous, predatory movement that sent a fresh wave of terror through her. It snarled, fangs bared in a menacing grin that seemed to stretch impossibly wide. Slowly the wolf lowered its body, its belly almost brushing the ground. She could hear the sound of the dry leaves as it shifted its weight. Each second that passed was a heartbeat, a countdown, a silent promise. Violence was coming. Ellery moved quickly, placing himself between Rowan and the creature. Even standing tall, he barely reached the wolf''s shoulder. He grabbed the metal poker from beside the fire pit, its tip glowing a menacing red. "Stay back," he warned, his voice low and steady, though his grip on the poker tightened with a tremor he couldn''t quite conceal. Suddenly, the wolf lunged towards Ellery with terrifying speed. Ellery swung the poker, its red-hot tip connecting with the wolf''s shoulder. A high-pitched yelp tore from the creature''s throat as it recoiled from the searing heat. It snarled, shaking its head, eyes burning with rage. Ellery pressed his advantage, swinging the poker with renewed ferocity. The wolf dodged and weaved, its powerful jaws snapping at the air, fangs gleaming in the firelight. With an explosive burst of speed, the beast lunged at him once more. This time its jaws clamped down hard on Ellery''s arm. Ellery roared, his voice echoing through the night, and swung the poker with all his might. The red-hot tip connected with the wolf''s skull. The wolf yelped and staggered back, releasing Ellery''s arm. Blood gushed from the wound. The wolf snarled, its eyes fixed on Ellery. It seemed to be assessing the situation. A thin trail of smoke curled from the singed fur on its side. He had clearly not inflicted any mortal wounds. Ellery, sensing the wolf''s hesitation, didn''t press his attack but stood his ground keeping the poker raised. He was acutely aware of the blood flowing freely from his arm, and he knew he couldn''t afford another encounter with those fangs. The two stood frozen, their eyes locked. The only sound was the crackling of the fire, the wolf''s ragged panting, and the pounding of Ellery''s heart. The wolf finally lowered its head, taking a step back. It let out a low growl then, with a final flick of its tail, it turned and melted back into the shadows, disappearing into the darkness as quickly as it had appeared. Ellery remained motionless for a moment, his shoulders still tight, his grip on the poker unrelenting. He let out a shaky breath . Rowan rushed to his side, her voice filled with concern. "Ellery, are you alright?" Ellery released the poker and it fell to the ground, a metallic clank vibrated through the quiet blackness of the night. He nodded, his voice strained. "I''ll be fine," he said, though the paleness of his face betrayed him. Rowan helped steady him, and they staggered back to the house. The silence was interrupted only by the sound of Ellery''s ragged breathing and the dripping of blood on the fallen leaves.