Chapter 7: Winter

The stillness of the basement study, filled with the mingling scents of old books and wood polish, felt like a sanctuary—a protective bubble against the chaos that buzzed beyond our walls. Yet, lately, I had sensed the world shifting, as if unseen currents were pulling together for something monumental. And I knew that tonight would be that moment.

I stirred, my body overwhelmed by an unexplainable heat, yet an icy chill ran through my veins, sharply contrasting. My mind wavered between the calming hum of sleep and a rising wave of anxiety. Suddenly, without warning, I sat gasping for air, feeling as if I had been pulled from a bottomless abyss into the frantic beat of reality. The gasp echoed, a warning bell that broke the silence.

My parents shot awake, their voices a loud mix of concern. "Winter? What's wrong?" My mom's voice was full of panic, and my dad sat upright quickly, eyes wide as he tried to understand the sight of his daughter trembling under the thin blanket.

I tried to respond, but my mouth felt heavy, and the words evaporated before I could catch them. Panic surged through me, and I sensed an unfamiliar power coiling inside, a raw energy almost electric, dancing just beneath my skin as if it were alive. My heart pounded against my ribs; it was a wild drumbeat that matched the storm brewing inside my mind.

As I struggled to form a clear thought or word, I felt it—a burning sensation creeping along my spine. I looked back, unable to ignore the heat radiating from my back. Smoke seeped from me, curling up like tendrils of a dream, and what I saw in a wall mirror froze me with a mix of fear and awe. A star-shaped mark glowed between my shoulder blades, pulsing rhythmically, sending waves of power through me, hot and cold, dancing together in a chaotic burst of beauty.

I could see the wide-eyed terror in my parents' faces, but I couldn't reassure them that I was okay; words escaped me. Instead, I heard a voice, soothing like a gentle stream but heavy with the weight of destiny. "This is your journey, Winter. Follow the star. At its end lies your destiny and happiness."

The voice wrapped around me like a warm hug, filling the empty spaces of doubt. For a moment, everything else faded away, leaving only the bright glow of the star carved into my skin, shining against the darkness. I've never felt anything like this—an addictive mix of strength and vulnerability.

Then, just like that, everything stopped. The heat faded away, and the frantic energy settled like dust after a storm. I was frozen in stillness, the remnants of the power lingering with a soft hum. As the waves of chaos receded, I found myself back in the present, my usual disheveled self, yet different—vastly changed.

I opened my eyes to see my parents, who hovered over me with faces showing relief and lingering panic. "What happened? Are you okay?" my dad asked, his voice thick with worry.

"I'm fine," I managed to croak out, the words oddly foreign on my tongue yet filled with conviction. I could feel a rush of power coursing through me; unlike anything I had experienced before; it was exhilarating but also terrifying. "I'm fine!"

They exchanged skeptical glances, their concern clear. My mom gently brushed her fingers against my forehead. "You scared us, sweetheart," she said softly, her brow furrowed with worry. "Your back… it was…”

"I know," I interrupted, still feeling a hint of that lingering burn, "but I think it means something. It felt… important."

My parents' chatter created a protective barrier around me, their words of planning filling the air as they started to talk about what to do next. "We should look for help," my dad said, his tone filled with resolve. "We can't stay here. We need to head north, to the places where we might uncover the truth behind… behind whatever is happening to you."

While they took their time discussing logistics, I closed my eyes once more, the events of the night settling around me like a warm cloak. The star mark on my back throbbed softly, a steady reminder of the whispers that had cradled me. It was no coincidence; this was meant to be—the dawn of my true self, wrapped in mystery and magic.

But beneath that hopeful surface, a hidden fear tugged at my heart. What did it mean that I was now marked? What lies ahead on this journey toward the star's promise? Deep inside, a disturbing dread stayed: what if I couldn't live up to the power flowing through me? What if the shadows that once hid in the corners of my mind were more than just figments of imagination?

"Sweetheart?" My father's loving voice pulled me back, and I faced him as he knelt on the sofa with my mother beside him. Their smiling faces surprised me, but when I noticed the small gift box in his hand, I gasped.

"Happy Birthday, baby," they wished, and I squealed in happiness, hugging them tightly. I focused more on the magical feel of that day, and I completely forgot what this day has always meant to me.

"We love you, baby girl. And you're ours, no matter what,” my mom said as I opened the box with trembling hands. The golden bracelet I admired so much was lying inside a satin-lined box with an extra engraving.

To our daughter, with love, Mom and Dad.