The morning sun painted the village of Ashen Grove in hues of amber and gold, the dew on the thatched roofs glistening like scattered jewels. Axton walked along the dirt path leading to the schoolhouse, the weight of another day pressing heavily on his shoulders. His classmates greeted one another with easy smiles and laughter, but Axton always felt like an outsider looking in.
As he reached the wooden steps of the schoolhouse, he paused. A low murmur of voices from behind caught his attention.
"Hey, Backwoods," a familiar voice sneered.
Axton turned to see Gavin Cross, the self-proclaimed leader of their small clique. Flanked by his usual group of followers, Gavin wore the smug expression of someone who had never been challenged.
"Late again?" Gavin asked, stepping closer. "Or are you just trying to sneak in without anyone noticing? Makes sense. Who'd want to notice you, anyway?"
The others chuckled, their laughter like the sharp crack of dry twigs.
Axton clenched his fists at his sides, forcing himself to breathe. He didn't want trouble, but Gavin always seemed to find him.
"Leave me alone, Gavin," Axton muttered, stepping to the side.
But Gavin wasn't ready to let him go. He shoved Axton's shoulder, forcing him back. "What's the matter? Can't stand up for yourself? No wonder no one invites you anywhere."
The laughter grew louder, and Axton's chest tightened. He could feel the heat rising to his face, his anger bubbling just beneath the surface.
"Hey!" a firm voice cut through the commotion.
The group turned to see Elias Thorn, Axton's only friend, standing a few feet away. With his sharp green eyes and confident stance, Elias exuded a quiet strength that even Gavin couldn't ignore.
"Back off, Gavin," Elias said, stepping forward. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size for a change?"
Gavin hesitated, his smirk faltering. "Whatever," he muttered, waving a hand dismissively. "Let's go."
The group dispersed, leaving Axton standing in the shadow of the schoolhouse steps.
"You okay?" Elias asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Axton nodded, though his voice betrayed him. "I'm fine. Thanks."
As the two walked into the schoolhouse, Axton couldn't shake the feeling that he was out of place—not just in the village or the school, but in life itself.
That evening, as Axton walked home through the forested path, the shadows stretched long and dark, whispering secrets he couldn't understand. He stopped for a moment, feeling the weight of the silence.
The wind rustled the leaves, and for a brief moment, Axton thought he heard a voice—soft, distant, almost like a memory. He shook his head, blaming his tired mind, and continued walking.
When he reached home, Evelyn Backwoods greeted him with a warm smile. "You're late," she said, handing him a bowl of stew.
"Got held up," Axton replied, his voice quiet. He didn't mention Gavin or the strange feeling in the forest.
As they ate, William Backwoods glanced at him from across the table. "Anything happen today?"
"No," Axton said quickly, avoiding his gaze.
But as the night deepened and the world grew quiet, Axton lay awake in his small room. Staring at the ceiling, he couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that something was coming—something bigger than the life he knew.
He didn't know why, but he felt it in his bones: his ordinary life in Ashen Grove was about to change.