The Riddle, The Stones And The Sorcerer

A dense, cold fog swirled around Milly’s feet, curling upward like ghostly tendrils. She stood frozen, her heart pounding as thunder cracked overhead. Blinding flashes of lightning illuminated the landscape in jagged bursts, revealing three ancient stone bridges stretching out before her over a dark, bottomless abyss. The rain beat down mercilessly, soaking through her hair and clothes, but Milly barely noticed.

Behind her, eyes gleamed in the shadows—hungry, malicious eyes that blinked and moved closer. Night creatures. She knew they were there, waiting, watching. She had to move, but which bridge should she take? Each one stretched into the mist, disappearing into the darkness ahead.

In the distance, barely visible through the storm, a figure flickered in and out of sight—a tall, cloaked man, standing as still as a statue, his face hidden in shadow. His presence filled her with dread, yet she felt a pull toward him, as if he held the answer to a riddle she couldn’t yet solve.

A voice—no, several voices—whispered through the wind. Choose wisely. Choose or fall. The wrong path leads to doom.

“Which one?” Milly muttered, her hands shaking. She glanced back, her breath quickening as the creatures behind her crept closer, their eyes glowing brighter in the dark. They were so close now she could hear their raspy breathing.

She took a step forward, toward the middle bridge. The ground trembled beneath her feet. Suddenly, the world lurched, and Milly was falling—falling into the endless abyss below, her scream echoing through the darkness. She kicked and flailed, trying to grab hold of something, anything, but there was nothing but cold, empty air. The voices still whispered as she plummeted deeper and deeper into the void.

Beware. Beware...With a final scream, she jolted awake.

Milly sat up in bed, gasping for breath, her heart hammering in her chest. Her bedroom was dim, lit only by the soft glow of her bedside lamp. She was home. She wasn’t falling. There was no abyss, no bridges. It was just a dream.

She felt a soft, familiar touch as her mother pulled her into a hug. “It’s okay, Milly. It’s just another bad dream,” her mother said gently, smoothing Milly’s damp hair. “You’re here at home, safe and sound.”

Milly shook her head, still feeling the icy grip of fear from her nightmare. “It wasn’t a dream,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I was really there. I could feel it. The rain, the cold... the creatures...” She shivered at the memory.

Her mother’s soothing smile didn’t falter, but her eyes softened with concern. “You’ve been having these dreams for weeks now, sweetie. It’s probably just stress from the move.”

“But, Mum—”

“No buts,” her mother interrupted. “There are no such things as night creatures. It’s just your imagination, Milly. Now try to get some sleep. Tomorrow’s a big day—we’re moving to the new house in Scotland, remember? We’ll need all hands-on deck.” She tucked the blankets tightly around Milly, as if the covers themselves could shield her from her fears.

Milly sighed and nodded, though she was far from convinced. The dream had felt too real. Too vivid. What did it mean?

Her mother kissed her on the forehead and whispered, “We’ll be with your dad before nightfall tomorrow. It’s going to be an adventure.”

With one last glance at the darkened window, Milly closed her eyes. But deep down, she knew that whatever was waiting for her in Scotland was more than just a new house. Something was coming.

The next morning, bright sunlight streamed through the curtains, chasing away the lingering shadows from Milly’s nightmare. She sat up in bed and blinked, trying to shake off the last fragments of her unsettling dream. By the time she was fully awake, it had faded from her thoughts, replaced by the excitement of the day ahead.

They were moving. To a huge old house with its own garden and trees and—well, who knew what else? Maybe there would even be a secret attic, or hidden tunnels, like in one of the adventure books she loved.

Downstairs, the smell of fresh pastries drifted through the house, luring her out of bed. Her brother, Archie, was already in the kitchen, stuffing his face with a sugary pastry, crumbs dotting his shirt.

“About time you woke up,” Archie teased, his grin mischievous. At eleven, he was a year older than Milly and just a bit taller, with unruly brown hair and a glint of mischief in his dark brown eyes. “Ready for the big move?”

Milly smirked, grabbing a pastry of her own. “Only if you’re ready to stop eating long enough to help pack the car.”

Archie snorted. “I’m packed. I bet you forgot half your stuff.”

Milly rolled her eyes. “I didn’t forget anything. I’m more organized than you, remember?”

Their mum bustled into the kitchen, hands full of bags and lists. “Come on, you two. Time to finish up and load the car. We’ve got a long drive ahead.”

Within the hour, they were on their way, the car loaded to the brim with boxes, bags, and whatever last-minute things hadn’t been packed in the moving van. The journey stretched long and boring across the countryside, the winding roads and endless green fields making Milly drowsy.

She drifted off to sleep, her thoughts swirling with images of the new house, the rolling hills of Scotland, and... bridges in the fog? No, she shook the thought away. That was just the dream.

When the car jolted over a rough patch of gravel, she stirred, blinking at the dim, overcast sky. Archie sat up too, rubbing his eyes. “Are we there yet?” he mumbled sleepily.

Their mother smiled. “Almost. Just past these trees, and we should be able to see the house.”

The car crept up a long, winding gravel path lined with towering oak trees that arched overhead, their branches creating a dark tunnel. Milly leaned forward, peering through the misty evening light as the house came into view.

It was huge—bigger than she had imagined. The stone walls were thick and old, ivy creeping up between the windows, and the massive wooden front door sat beneath an imposing stone archway. The dark of the night shrouded the house but through the shadows it still made for an impressive sight. And yet, despite its first appearance, there was something... eerie about it. Something that made Milly’s stomach twist with a familiar sense of unease.

“Wow,” Archie whispered, his eyes wide. “It’s like something out of a movie.”

Milly nodded, but her gaze was drawn to the shadows creeping around the corners of the house, where the evening light failed to reach. A chill ran down her spine. This was it. This was the place from her dream. She was sure of it.

As they stepped out of the car, their father waved from the front door, his wide grin breaking the spell of the moment. “Welcome home!” he called cheerfully.

Harvey, their golden retriever, barked excitedly from inside the house, scratching at the window, eager to greet them.

“Come on, kids,” their mum said, hurrying them toward the door. “Let’s get inside before the rain starts up again.”

Milly shook off the strange feeling and followed her family inside. But as they crossed the threshold into their new home, she couldn’t help but glance back at the shadowy landscape beyond the garden. Somewhere out there, the fog was waiting. And something else—something darker—was waiting with it.