In a time and place where magic wanes there is a sleepy hamlet, where three siblings and their two friends, strolled down a dusty lane. They were supposed to be on their way to school—and they were. They were just taking a slight detour.
Rumor had it there was a strange fire by Mr. Lee's farm, and curiosity had drawn the five of them like moths to a flame. Technically, they were not supposed to know about it, but Pip, a girl with long brown pigtails, a freckled nose, and bright blue eyes, had overheard her parents whispering about it late last night.
"My dad said he saw it," Pip exclaimed, her voice tinged with excitement. "He said it looked like something out of a fairy tale." She leaned in, her voice dropping to a loud whisper. "My parents told each other no kids should go near it because it might be dangerous, but we do not have to get too close. We'll just take a look, and we can still make it to school on time."
Alex, the lone boy in the group, rolled his eyes dramatically. "Pip, you always say it'll be quick, and then we're always late! Remember the swamp beast incident?" He crossed his arms, glaring at her in mock exasperation.
"Hmph! Will you ever let that go?" Pip huffed, spinning on her heel.
The three siblings chuckled. The triplets, all carrot-haired with sparkling green eyes, were at that unmistakably awkward preteen stage: all elbows, knees, and boundless energy. Despite their identical appearance, their personalities couldn't be more different.
The five of them had been inseparable since birth, and at twelve years old, they had a knack for finding—or creating—trouble.
As they rounded the bend, Mr. Lee's farm came into view.
Just beyond the bend, a small farm came into view. The red-brick farmhouse stood proud, its paint chipping slightly under the strain of time. A few outbuildings, weathered but sturdy, dotted the landscape, and a large, imposing barn loomed near the edge of the fields that stretched to a distant stand of trees. Beyond the farm, the horizon shimmered with the faint haze of early morning light. The group slowed their pace, each casting hesitant glances at Pip. Silent questions lingered in their eyes, the unspoken need for reassurance heavy in the air.
"Truthfully, I'm not sure exactly where the fire is," Pip admitted, her voice breaking the silence. She rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly, avoiding their gazes. "But my dad said it was near the north field, just inside the forest."
All five of them turned their eyes toward the northern field. Rows of crops swayed gently in the breeze, untouched by smoke or flame. There was no visible sign of a fire—no charred grass, no flickering orange glow, nothing to confirm Pip's words.
"Well, we've only got about thirty minutes before school starts," Alex pointed out, glancing at the s. "If we want to see the strange blue fire and not be late, we'd better hurry." He took the lead without waiting for a reply, setting off at a brisk pace toward the north field.
"There's no one around," Alex called over his shoulder, his voice laced with excitement. "If we run, we can make it to the forest in about five minutes."
The triplets—Ophelia or Phee, Antigone or Tig, and Freya—exchanged quick looks before gathering their skirts. Antigone, the oldest of the three and the most daring, let out a loud laugh. "Last one there has to kiss a frog!" she teased, her voice carrying over the rustling fields.
Her challenge spurred the others on, and soon their laughter and shrieks echoed across the open land. They raced each other, pushing and pinching, occasionally tripping over their own feet in their haste. From a distance, they looked like carefree children, moments away from adulthood, caught in the fleeting innocence of youth.
But innocence is a fragile thing, easily shattered.
The forest loomed ahead, dark and dense, its edges blurred by shadows. In their eagerness, none of them noticed how the air grew cooler the closer they got. It wasn't until Freya, the youngest of the triplets, stumbled to a halt that anyone realized something was wrong.
"Stop!" Freya yelled, her voice sharp with alarm.
Pip had just pushed Ophelia in a playful attempt to slow her down. The sudden motion sent her reeling, and she tripped over an unseen figure lying in the underbrush. Ophelia let out a startled yelp as she fell forward, landing hard against the ground. A muffled groan came from beneath her.
For a moment, there was only silence.
"Phee!" Tig exclaimed, rushing forward to help her sister. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Ophelia muttered, scrambling to her feet and brushing dirt from her skirt. Her face was pale as she turned to look at what—or rather, who—she had fallen onto.
The girl on the ground was slight, her body curled in on itself as though shielding against the cold. Her clothes were strange, unlike anything they'd seen before—tattered and threadbare, patched with mismatched fabric. On her back were two delicate wings, blue in color and a faint, eerie blue glow seemed to radiate from her skin, casting an unnatural light on the surrounding foliage. The chill in the air was unmistakable now, sharp enough that their breath puffed out in small white clouds.
"She's breathing," Freya whispered, kneeling beside the girl. Her hand hovered uncertainly over the stranger's shoulder. "But she's so cold. Wings?" Freya said looking at the others, a question in her eyes.
Ophelia shrugged her shoulder and said "Wings? That is weird."
"What do we do?" Tig asked, her voice unusually quiet. She glanced at Pip, who looked just as bewildered as the rest of them.
"We can't just leave her here," Alex said firmly, stepping closer. His usual bravado was tempered by an edge of concern. "But what if she's sick? Or dangerous? She has wings after all."
Ophelia frowned, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "She doesn't look dangerous," she said softly. "She looks… lost."
As they debated, the girl stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, revealing irises the same unnerving shade of blue as her glowing skin and wings. She blinked up at them, dazed and uncomprehending.
"Who… who are you?" she croaked, her voice weak but filled with a strange urgency.
Before anyone could answer, a low, guttural growl sounded from the shadows of the forest. The group froze, their eyes darting toward the sound. The girl's glowing eyes widened in terror.
"They are coming," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You have to run. Now."
The chill in the air deepened, and the blue glow around the girl flared brighter. A sense of dread settled over the group, pressing against their chests like an unseen weight.
"What is coming?" Pip demanded, her voice rising in panic.
The girl struggled to sit up, clutching at Freya's arm for support. "No time," she gasped. "You have to leave—before they find you too."
As if on cue, the growling grew louder, closer. The cold intensifed, shadows shifted among the trees, unnatural and menacing. The friends exchanged fearful glances, their playful morning forgotten in an instant.
"Run!" the girl shouted, her voice stronger now, filled with desperation. "Go!"
Without hesitation, they turned and bolted back toward the edge of the forest, their laughter replaced by the sound of frantic footsteps and pounding hearts. Behind them, the blue glow flickered, and the shadows closed in.