《Circle Of Ash》


 A Candle In The Shadows

    Stephanie could still feel the weight of the air that night. The funeral had ended hours ago, and the smell of flowers lingered in her nose like a memory that wouldn¡¯t let go. Madi was gone. Her best friend. Her partner-in-crime since second grade.


    Stephanie sat on her bed, clutching Madi¡¯s favorite scarf¡ªa soft, knit thing that still smelled faintly of vanilla and peppermint. It felt surreal. They¡¯d spent just last week laughing over bad movie marathons and debating whether pineapple belonged on pizza. And now Madi was¡­gone.


    A car accident, they said. Just a freak thing. Except something didn¡¯t sit right. Madi wasn¡¯t reckless. She didn¡¯t text and drive. She didn¡¯t speed.


    Her phone buzzed, snapping Stephanie out of her spiraling thoughts. It was a text from Madi¡¯s older brother, Nate.


    "Hey, Steph. We¡¯re packing up Madi¡¯s room tomorrow. If there¡¯s anything you¡¯d want to keep, come by."


    The thought of stepping into Madi¡¯s room made her chest ache, but Stephanie typed back:


    "Yeah, I¡¯ll be there."


    The next day, Stephanie stood in the doorway of Madi¡¯s room. It looked untouched, like Madi might walk in any second, complaining about something ridiculous or asking her for advice.


    "Take your time," Nate said, his voice low. He left Stephanie alone with the ghosts of their shared memories.


    Stephanie lingered by the doorway, her eyes scanning the room. Posters of indie bands they both loved were plastered on the walls, and the bed was still unmade, the duvet crumpled like Madi had just gotten out of it. Her desk was cluttered with books, pens, and scraps of paper.


    Her gaze landed on a small box on the dresser¡ªa box she recognized immediately. It was Madi¡¯s "treasure box," a tin that had once held cookies but was now filled with secrets. Stephanie reached for it, hesitating.


    When she opened the lid, a few familiar trinkets greeted her: a dried four-leaf clover they¡¯d found on a camping trip, a concert ticket stub from their first show, and¡ªstrangely¡ªa small vial of something dark and opaque.


    Stephanie frowned and picked up the vial, holding it to the light. The liquid inside shimmered unnaturally, almost alive.


    "What is this?" she muttered, placing it down. Beneath it was a notebook¡ªMadi¡¯s journal.


    Her throat tightened. Madi had always been a chronic journaler, scribbling down her thoughts like a therapist in ink. Stephanie hesitated before flipping it open.


    The first few entries were mundane¡ªclass notes, sketches, random lists. But as she skimmed further, her stomach twisted.


    Entry, July 14th:


    "There was something strange about the way Steph¡¯s shadow moved today. It flickered when she laughed, like it was alive. Maybe I imagined it, but I can¡¯t ignore the signs."


    Stephanie¡¯s pulse quickened. Her shadow? What was Madi talking about? She flipped to another page.


    Entry, August 2nd:


    "I found an old text in the archives. ''The mark of the witch reveals itself in the mundane.'' What if it¡¯s her? What if Steph is one of them?"


    Stephanie stared at the page, her mind reeling. Memories bubbled to the surface¡ªmoments she¡¯d brushed off as coincidences.


    There was that time in seventh grade when she got into a fight with a bully, and their locker door had slammed shut on its own, breaking their finger. Or when the flames of a bonfire had seemed to stretch toward her hand as she roasted marshmallows, casting strange, flickering shadows. And then there was the time her anger had made the lights in her room flicker violently until the bulb shattered.


    Her hands began to tremble as she flipped through the journal. The entries grew more frantic, the handwriting messier. There were notes about witches, ancient covens, rituals, and something called ¡°The Circle of Ash.¡± Madi had been investigating them¡­no, her.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    A knot of betrayal twisted in Stephanie¡¯s gut. Madi¡ªher best friend, the person she trusted more than anyone¡ªhad been spying on her.


    She shook her head, tears blurring her vision. "Why didn¡¯t you just talk to me?" she whispered.


    From the back of the journal, a small folded piece of paper slipped out. She unfolded it carefully. It was a map¡ªhand-drawn, with a spot circled in red. The margins were scrawled with frantic notes.


    "Meet them. Midnight. Confirm the truth."


    The date written was the night of Madi¡¯s accident.


    The drive to the marked location was a blur. Stephanie gripped the steering wheel tightly, her thoughts racing. The betrayal, the fear, the strange incidents from her past¡ªit was all crashing down on her.


    "I¡¯m not a witch," she told herself, her voice shaking. "That¡¯s ridiculous."


    But deep down, a tiny voice whispered otherwise.


    The marked location was an old, abandoned church on the outskirts of town. Stephanie parked her car and stepped out, the cold night air biting at her skin. Her stomach churned as she approached the heavy wooden doors.


    Memories of Madi flooded her mind¡ªher laughter, her determination, the way she always seemed to know when Stephanie needed a hug.


    Was any of it real? Or had Madi just been pretending, waiting to uncover some dark secret about her?


    Stephanie pushed the door open, the sound echoing in the empty space. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of wax and damp wood. Dozens of candles flickered along the walls, their glow casting eerie shadows that seemed to dance with a mind of their own.


    She stepped forward, her sneakers echoing on the stone floor. A strange warmth tickled at her palms, and she rubbed them together absently.


    At the altar, a book lay open. It was massive, its leather cover cracked with age. The pages were filled with symbols and diagrams she couldn¡¯t begin to understand.


    "This is where she was," Stephanie whispered.


    The room grew colder, and a sudden gust of wind snuffed out half the candles, plunging the space into a dim haze. Stephanie¡¯s heart pounded. She turned to leave¡ªbut froze when a voice echoed from the shadows.


    "You shouldn¡¯t be here.¡± the voice said again, sharper this time.


    Stephanie spun around, her eyes darting through the flickering candlelight. From the shadows emerged a woman with sharp features, her dark hair tied back in a braid that seemed to blend into the gloom. Her eyes were piercing, almost glowing, and her presence carried an unsettling air of authority.


    "Who are you?" Stephanie demanded, her voice shaking. She took a step back, her heels scraping against the stone floor.


    The woman didn¡¯t answer immediately. She moved closer, her boots silent against the ground, and stopped just outside the circle of candlelight. Her head tilted slightly as she studied Stephanie.


    "I could ask you the same," the woman said coolly. "But I already know who you are, Stephanie."


    Stephanie¡¯s heart skipped. "You¡ªhow do you know my name? Did you know Madi? Did you¡ª" Her voice broke. "Did you have something to do with her death?"


    The woman¡¯s expression darkened, her gaze growing heavier. "Madi came here the night she died. She was looking for answers."


    "Answers about what?" Stephanie¡¯s voice was rising, her fear and anger bubbling just under the surface. "Why was she here? Why does her journal¡ª" She stopped herself, gripping the leather book tighter against her chest.


    The woman took another step forward, her face illuminated by the flickering light. "She came to confirm her suspicions. She wanted proof of what you are."


    "What I am?" Stephanie repeated, her voice cracking. "What are you even talking about? Madi was my best friend¡ªshe wouldn¡¯t¡ª"


    "She was afraid," the woman interrupted sharply. "Fear makes people do desperate things. She joined the Circle of Ash, a society dedicated to exposing witches like you. They¡¯d been watching you for months. She was supposed to meet someone here that night, to give them everything she¡¯d found."


    "No," Stephanie whispered, shaking her head. "You¡¯re lying. Madi would never¡ª"


    "Think, Stephanie," the woman pressed, her voice cutting through Stephanie¡¯s denial like a blade. "Haven¡¯t you ever noticed the strange things that happen around you? The shadows that move when they shouldn¡¯t? The fires that burn too hot, the lights that flicker when you¡¯re upset?"


    Stephanie¡¯s mind raced with memories¡ªmoments she¡¯d buried or brushed off as coincidences. The locker slamming shut, the bonfire flames reaching for her, the shattering lightbulb.


    "I didn¡¯t¡ª" She staggered back, clutching her head. "I didn¡¯t do anything. I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about!"


    The woman¡¯s gaze softened, just slightly. "You didn¡¯t know. But your power doesn¡¯t care whether you understand it. And Madi knew enough to fear it."


    Stephanie¡¯s breath came faster, her chest heaving. Anger and confusion surged within her, along with something else¡ªsomething deeper, hotter, like a fire she couldn¡¯t contain. The candles around the room flared suddenly, their flames stretching unnaturally high before sputtering.


    "Stop!" she shouted, clutching her head as the warmth in her palms intensified, searing now. "I don¡¯t want this¡ªI didn¡¯t ask for this!"


    The woman took a step back, her eyes narrowing. "You need to calm yourself, or¡ª"


    But Stephanie couldn¡¯t hear her anymore. The heat in her hands spread through her body, overwhelming her senses. She stumbled toward the door, desperate to get out, to escape the suffocating truth pressing down on her.


    "I have to go," she mumbled, her legs barely cooperating as she stumbled into the night.


    She made it to her car, fumbling with her keys as the world around her blurred. Her vision swam, and the air felt too thick to breathe. The strange warmth surged again, this time radiating from her chest outward, and her knees buckled.


    The last thing she saw before the darkness claimed her was the faint glow of the candles from inside the church.

 A NEW FLAME

    Stephanie awoke to the sound of crackling wood and the smell of something herbal¡ªlavender, maybe, or sage. Her head throbbed, and when she opened her eyes, the dim light of a fire greeted her.


    She wasn¡¯t in her car anymore. She was lying on a worn but soft couch in what appeared to be a cabin. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and dried herbs hung from the ceiling in neat bundles.


    "You¡¯re awake."


    Stephanie turned her head, wincing at the ache in her neck. The woman from the church was sitting in a chair nearby, her arms crossed as she regarded Stephanie with a mix of curiosity and caution.


    "Where am I?" Stephanie croaked, her throat dry.


    "My home," the woman said simply. "You passed out in the churchyard. I brought you here before someone else found you."


    Stephanie sat up slowly, her body protesting every movement. "Why? Why didn¡¯t you just leave me there?"


    The woman¡¯s lips quirked in a humorless smile. "Because whether you like it or not, you¡¯re dangerous. You¡¯re a witch, Stephanie, and until you learn to control your power, you¡¯re a danger to yourself and everyone around you."


    Stephanie stared at her, the word witch echoing in her mind like a drumbeat.


    "I don¡¯t believe you," she said weakly.


    The woman leaned forward, her expression unreadable. "You will. And if you want answers about what happened to Madi, about who you really are, you¡¯ll listen to me.¡±


    Stephanie¡¯s phone buzzed violently from where it sat on the small table beside the couch. She flinched, the sound startling in the otherwise quiet cabin. She glanced at the screen, the brightness piercing her still-groggy eyes.


    15 missed calls: Nate.


    Her heart sank. She knew he¡¯d be worried¡ªit wasn¡¯t like her to just vanish¡ªbut guilt clawed at her chest as she saw the barrage of messages flood in.


    Alaric: Where are you?


    Alaric: Call me now.


    Alaric: Are you okay? I swear to God, Steph, if you don¡¯t answer me¡ª


    Alaric: Seriously. I¡¯m coming to find you.


    Stephanie sighed, running a hand through her tangled hair. Her thumb hovered over the "Call Back" button, but she hesitated. What would she even say? Hey, Alaric, I just found out I¡¯m maybe a witch, Madi was secretly investigating me, and oh, by the way, I passed out outside a haunted church and woke up in some stranger¡¯s cabin?


    "Your brother, I assume?" the woman asked, her voice breaking the silence.


    Stephanie looked up sharply, clutching the phone closer. "How do you¡ª?"


    "You were muttering his name when you were unconscious," the woman said casually, leaning back in her chair. "You should tell him you¡¯re alive, at least. He¡¯s worried."


    Stephanie scowled, not appreciating the advice from someone she didn¡¯t trust. "You don¡¯t get to tell me what to do."


    The woman arched an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on her lips. "Suit yourself."


    Ignoring her, Stephanie shot a quick text to Nate.


    Stephanie: I¡¯m okay. Don¡¯t freak out. Just needed space. I¡¯ll be home soon.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    The message felt flimsy, but it was all she could manage. She shoved the phone into her hoodie pocket and turned her attention back to the woman.


    "Alright," Stephanie said, her voice steadier now. "Who are you? Why did you bring me here, and why should I believe anything you¡¯re saying about me?"


    The woman stood, crossing the room to the fire. She stirred the embers with a long iron poker, the flames casting dancing shadows across the cabin walls. "My name is Elara," she said finally. "And I brought you here because leaving you there would¡¯ve been reckless."


    "Reckless how?" Stephanie pressed.


    Elara turned to face her, her expression unreadable. "Because the world isn¡¯t as simple as you think it is, Stephanie. There are those who would kill you on sight for what you are. The Circle of Ash, for one. They¡¯re relentless, and they don¡¯t care if you didn¡¯t know what you were. They only care that you exist."


    Stephanie¡¯s stomach twisted at the mention of the Circle of Ash. "But why not just kill me yourself, then?" she challenged. "You¡¯re saying I¡¯m dangerous. Wouldn¡¯t that solve the problem?"


    Elara¡¯s smirk returned, but it was colder this time. "I don¡¯t kill children."


    "I¡¯m not a child," Stephanie snapped.


    "You are," Elara countered, her voice sharp. "At least, in the ways that matter. You¡¯ve barely scratched the surface of what you are, what you can do. Killing you wouldn¡¯t solve anything¡ªit would only waste potential. And besides..." She hesitated, her eyes softening slightly. "I owe your family more than that."


    Stephanie¡¯s heart skipped. "My family? What do you mean?"


    Elara¡¯s lips pressed into a thin line, as though she regretted letting that slip. "Your parents," she said finally. "They were¡­like you."


    Stephanie froze, her mind spinning. Her parents? She barely remembered them¡ªjust fragments of laughter and warmth before they were gone. Anytime she¡¯d asked Nate about them, he¡¯d shut her down with some vague answer about an accident.


    "You¡¯re lying," Stephanie said, though her voice wavered.


    Elara¡¯s gaze hardened. "I don¡¯t have time to lie, girl. Your parents were witches, powerful ones, and they paid the price for it. The Circle of Ash has been after your bloodline for years."


    Stephanie slumped back onto the couch, her mind spinning. Elara¡¯s words echoed in her head, refusing to let her find any kind of calm.


    "If my parents were witches," she started hesitantly, "and this¡­Circle of Ash has been after my family, then why am I still alive? Why didn¡¯t they come for me sooner?"


    Elara¡¯s gaze was steady, though a shadow of something like regret flickered in her eyes. "Your brother, Alaric, kept you hidden. He¡¯s done a good job, considering the circumstances. But your powers were always going to surface eventually. That¡¯s why Madi¡¯s death wasn¡¯t a coincidence."


    Stephanie flinched at the mention of her friend¡¯s name. "What do you mean?"


    Elara sighed, moving to one of the bookshelves and pulling down a heavy, leather-bound tome. She flipped it open, the pages brittle and yellowed with age. "When someone with your kind of potential starts to awaken, it causes¡­ripples. Energy shifts. Those sensitive to it¡ªlike the Circle¡ªcan sense it. Madi likely started noticing these things before even you did, and once she suspected what you were, she became desperate to prove it."


    Stephanie¡¯s stomach churned. "But she didn¡¯t hate me," she whispered. "She¡­she was my best friend."


    Elara looked up from the book, her expression grim. "Fear doesn¡¯t leave much room for love, Stephanie. She may have cared about you, but she was also afraid of you. And that fear made her dangerous."


    Stephanie clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. "If she was afraid of me, why didn¡¯t she just confront me? Why go behind my back?"


    "Because she didn¡¯t know how far you¡¯d come into your power," Elara said. "She was trying to protect herself. And maybe¡­" She hesitated, her gaze softening. "Maybe part of her was trying to protect you, too."


    The weight of it all pressed down on Stephanie¡¯s chest, making it hard to breathe. She thought of all the times Madi had looked at her with something she¡¯d assumed was worry or concern. The little comments about how "weird things" happened when Stephanie was around. The way Madi had started keeping her distance in the weeks before her death.


    "I didn¡¯t want this," Stephanie said finally, her voice barely more than a whisper.


    "No one ever does," Elara replied.


    Stephanie stared at the flickering fire, its warm light doing little to chase away the cold in her chest. "You said I need to learn to control this. How? Are you going to teach me?"


    Elara hesitated, then nodded. "If you¡¯re willing to learn. But it won¡¯t be easy. Magic isn¡¯t just some parlor trick¡ªit¡¯s dangerous. And if you¡¯re not careful, it will consume you."


    Stephanie swallowed hard, her hands trembling. "And if I don¡¯t learn?"


    Elara¡¯s expression turned grim. "Then the Circle of Ash won¡¯t have to kill you. Your own power will do it for them."


    The silence that followed was suffocating. Stephanie¡¯s phone buzzed again in her pocket, but she ignored it.


    "Where do we start?" she asked finally, her voice shaking but resolute.


    Elara nodded, a flicker of approval in her gaze. "Follow me."