The Keeper's Heir

The group trudged along the forest path, the air heavy with the dampness of recent rain. But for once, there was no immediate danger, and the tension that had clung to them for days began to ease, even if only slightly.

"Race you to the top of that hill!" Pip called suddenly, pointing at a nearby knoll, darting ahead before anyone could respond.

Alex groaned. "Pip, we do not have time for games."

"We need something, Alex," Tig said, a rare glint of amusement in her tired eyes. " All we have done is walk and practice our magic for days and days, danger lurks around every corner, we need to burn off some energy." She jogged after Pip, her bag bouncing on her back. Freya sighed and followed suit, while Ophelia lingered, clutching the magic book and studying its cover.

Alex stayed behind, walking slowly with Ember, who still glowed faintly but said little. She seemed lost in thought, her gaze distant.

Ahead, Tig and Pip had stopped at the top of the hill, huffing for breath. "Bet you can not beat me in magic," Pip said, her grin mischievous.

"Bet you I can," Tig replied, her voice tinged with mock seriousness.

Freya joined them, holding her hands up. "Oh no, we are not starting a competition. You will set the forest on fire."

"Just one little spell," Pip pleaded. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small stone. "I will make it hover."

Before anyone could stop her, she whispered a few words, and the stone floated shakily into the air. But it did not stop there. It began to spin faster and faster until it shot off like a sling bullet, narrowly missing Alex's head.

"Seriously?" Alex shouted, ducking just in time.

Pip winced. "Sorry!"

"Yo are lucky I am not one to take revenge!" Alex snapped, though his irritation melted slightly at the sight of Tig's stifled laughter.

Liar, remeber the frog incident?" Tig teased, and even Ember managed a faint smile.

Alex's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, "That is not fair! I could not let you get away with putting a frog in my sisters bed, you were trying to get me in trouble" Alex yelled

"Not fair! " Tig exclaimed " How were we supposed to know you switched rooms with her?" With a mischievous grin she continued, "We really wished we could have seen her face when she discovered the frog,"

With that comment they all started to laugh.

Ophelia finally caught up, shaking her head. "If you are going to mess around with magic, at least make it useful." She waved the book at them. "We need to focus."

The group's mood lightened as they traveled onward, though Alex remained brooding at the rear. He could not help but feel an unfamiliar pang of jealousy as Tig laughed with Pip and Freya.

By the time they reached the village, the sun was dipping low, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets. The air smelled of wood smoke and freshly baked bread, a stark contrast to the earthly sent of the forest they just left.

"Finally," Pip said, rubbing her aching legs.

They inquired about the Keeper with the few villagers they saw, but every answer was the same: "She's gone. Passed on a few months back. No heir."

" We should at least go look at her dwelling. Perhaps there are clues to the prophecy there," Tig suggested. 

Defeated, they followed directions to the Keeper's cabin, a small, weathered structure tucked away at the edge of the village against the beginning of the forest. It looked abandoned, the windows dark and covered with grime, the door slightly ajar.

"Scarey," Freya muttered.

They entered cautiously, the floorboards creaking under their weight. At first, it seemed empty. Dust coated every surface, and cobwebs hung in the corners. But as they ventured deeper, the air grew colder, and an unsettling hum vibrated through the walls.

Without warning, a blast of magic shot toward them, forcing them to scatter. "Ambush!" Alex yelled, drawing his sword.

The attacker was invisible, their movements swift and erratic. Bolts of magic ricocheted off the walls, narrowly missing the group. Ember's blue flame flickered to life as she countered with bursts of her own magic, though they dissipated as quickly as they formed.

"Combine power!" Ophelia shouted. "We're stronger together!"

The group formed a circle, their hands interlinked. Power surged between them, a glowing barrier that pulsed outward. The unseen attacker stumbled, their magic faltering.

"Now!" Tig shouted.

Freya whispered a prayer as the magic flared brighter,and the attacker was finally revealed—a boy, no older than they were. He had wild brown hair, sharp features, and an expression of defiance mixed with fear.

"Who are you?" Tig demanded, her voice firm.

The boy glared at them. "Who are you?"

After a tense silence, the boy relented. "My name is Ciaran," he said, his voice quieter now. "My grandmother was the Keeper of this village."

"Why did you attack us?" Alex asked, his tone sharp.

Ciaran hesitated. "Because I was warned to never reavel myself, I am not supposed to let anyone into this cabin. My grandmother told me to stay hidden, even if... even if the prophecy bringers came."

The group exchanged uneasy glances.

"She said there was a reason why boys could not be Keepers," Ciaran continued. "But she did not send me away like she should have or tell me why I could not be a keeper. She raised me in secret after my parents died in a fire."

Ciaran said sadly "She didn't want me to know anything about the prophecy, but she finally told me her portion before she passed." he sighed " She told me that boys will be the downfall of the Queens and did not know why. That is why I had to be a secret. When she became ill she relented, and told me what she knew."

"What did she tell you?" Ophelia asked, her voice softening.

Ciaran recited his grandmother's words, his tone solemn:

"The Stones of the Fae, where fate's thread is spun,

A path lies ahead, though the journey's not won.

To the north, where the Fae in silence hold sway,

Seek the circle, but do not delay.

Beware the temptations that lie in their feast,

For hunger and thirst may summon the least.

Bring a gift, but let it not be from heart's deep well,

For only then will you hear the true tale to tell.

When you alight in that land.

Beware of time for it is sand.

The books name must known.

Do not go alone."

"What kind of gift do we give the Fae?" Pip

"Not something from the soul," Freya murmured. "So nothing personal, like memories or emotions."

"They value craftsmanship," Ciaran said. "My grandmother told me they like handmade items or things with beauty. But you have to be careful; they will test you."

"We'll figure it out," Tig said. "For now, let's move. The standing stones are not far."

Journey to the Standing Stones

The path north was rugged and overgrown, the trees growing denser the farther they traveled. Ciaran fit in awkwardly, walking beside Tig while Alex trailed behind, his face dark with jealousy.

Ciaran told Tig about the village and his grandmother, his voice soft and earnest. Tig seemed to warm to him, though she kept her focus on the journey.

Freya, sensing Alex's mood, tried to engage him in conversation, but he shrugged her off. His thoughts churned. Ciaran was too friendly, too comfortable. And Tig—why was she smiling at him?

By the time they reached the standing stones, the sky was dark, and the air was heavy with magic. The stones formed a perfect circle, their surfaces etched with runes that glowed faintly in the moonlight.

The group stepped into the circle, and a strange calm settled over them. The tension of the journey eased, and the magic in the air seemed to hum with welcome.

"This is it," Ophelia said, clutching the book tightly.

As they prepared to make camp, the air shimmered, and faint laughter echoed through the stones. The Fae were near.