The Ascendants

The sky bled gold, a molten sunset that dripped into the cracks of an ancient city, casting long shadows over the jagged stone ruins. Avery ran, heart pounding in her chest, her feet sinking into the shifting sands. The heat was unbearable, clinging to her skin like a second layer, and the air crackled with an energy she didn’t understand but sensed it deep in her bones. The curved blade in her hand was foreign, yet it moved with her as if it had always belonged there, heavy and purposeful.

Ahead, figures moved—cloaked in shadows, their glowing eyes fixed on her. Avery’s breath came in ragged gasps, but the path ahead never cleared, no matter how hard she pushed herself forward. Sand whipped at her face, stinging her skin, and the ground shook beneath her as the ancient city crumbled around her.

“You are not ready.”

The voice was booming, ancient, and it reverberated through her, shaking the earth and her very core. Avery swung the blade, desperate to defend herself, but her arm moved sluggishly, weighed down by some invisible force. She tried to scream, but the sound was swallowed by the storm of sand and shadow.

And then, everything went dark.

Avery’s eyes snapped open, her body jerking upright as the echo of the voice faded, replaced by the sound of rain pounding against her window. Her heart raced, a cold sweat clinging to her skin as she tried to shake the remnants of the dream.

She cast a weary glance at the clock—5:30 a.m. Her alarm wouldn’t sound for another hour, yet the very idea of drifting back to sleep seemed utterly impossible. The storm outside continued to rage, flooding the room with an unsettling light as brilliant flashes of lightning danced across the walls...

She let out a trembling breath, her hand instinctively pressing against her chest as if to anchor herself in the moment. The dream had wrapped itself around her like a shroud, too real, too haunting to simply forget. For weeks, it had tormented her—a desolate city falling apart at the seams and a thunderous voice echoing in her mind. But it was more than just the dreams; it was that unshakable lingering sensation that clung to her in the light of day, an urgency that prickled at her skin, whispering that something monumental was on the horizon, something she could hardly comprehend but knew would change everything.

Avery swung her legs over the side of the bed and gazed out the window at the cascading sheets of rain that softened the world beyond. It had been raining for days, yet today, the storm seemed distinctly different. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but the air was heavy with a sense of anticipation, as if the sky itself was holding its breath, waiting for something momentous to unfold.

The all-too-familiar ache of uncertainty gripped her heart like a vice. Avery was not the sort to flourish amid chaos; she craved clarity, a world where things were defined and predictable. It was likely why she had chosen history as her major—facts, timelines, and patterns sang to her soul, offering a sense of stability in an unpredictable universe. But ever since those haunting dreams had begun to invade her nights, it was as though her life was unraveling in a wild, uncontrollable spiral, and she was powerless to halt the descent.

She missed her old life—the one that existed before the haunting sleepless nights, before the overwhelming sensation that the world was slipping through her fingers. It wasn’t that her past had been a whirlwind of excitement, but it had been hers, filled with the comforting rhythms of familiarity. College had been her sanctuary, a fresh canvas where she could quietly immerse herself, pour her heart into her studies, and fiercely prove that she could stand on her own. But now, an invisible force was dragging her into a tumultuous current she had never wanted to navigate, and the sheer terror of it left her breathless.

A faint whisper echoed in her mind.

“Avery…”

She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. She had always been independent, had always taken pride in doing things on her own. But lately, that independence was more like isolation. She hadn’t told anyone about the dreams—not her friends, not Ethan. She wasn’t even sure if she could explain it to them in a way that made sense. How do you tell someone that you’ve been dreaming of a place that seemed too real, too ancient to be just a dream?

She stood and crossed the room, glancing at the picture on her desk—her mom, beaming at her high school graduation. Avery had always been driven, the kind of girl who kept her head down, made the grades, and avoided anything that could derail her path. But her mom had always been there, her biggest cheerleader, encouraging her to step outside the lines when Avery wanted to play it safe.

She wondered what her mom would say if she knew about the dreams, about the strange feelings of foreboding that seemed to be pulling her toward something bigger than herself.

Probably something about trusting her instincts, even if it didn’t make sense yet.

Avery laid there for a moment, her body unwilling to leave the comfort of her bed, but the buzzing anxiety in her chest wouldn’t let her rest. The dream. The weight of the blade, the crumbling city—it all clung to her, too vivid to ignore. A strange mix of dread and energy stirred inside her, like something was waiting just out of reach.

She exhaled slowly, throwing the covers off and dragging herself out of bed. Her room was a mess—textbooks stacked haphazardly on her desk, a heap of laundry in the corner, and a trail of clothes leading to her closet. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror—a messy ponytail, dark circles under her eyes. She’d been running on little sleep for weeks now, ever since the dreams had started.

Normal. She craved it. She needed it.

A quick shower and a swipe of mascara later, Avery grabbed her bag and made her way downstairs. Her apartment was small, just enough space for her and her roommate, Mira, who had already left for her early biology lab. Avery poured herself a cup of coffee, leaning against the counter.

She took a sip, her thoughts drifting. Maybe sheshouldtalk to someone about the dreams. But then again, what would she even say?

Hey, I keep dreaming about an ancient city collapsing around me, and I have wings, and I can’t stop seeing this weird symbol in my head.

It sounded ridiculous, even in her own mind.