Aethelgard

1.

Kami

The autumn air bites at my cheeks as I push through the double doors of Lincoln High; my backpack slung over one shoulder. Eighteen. I’m finally officially a legal adult! Woot! Woot!

I can’t stop the grin that spreads across my face as I skip down the concrete steps, my green hair whipping behind me in the wind. A few underclassmen stare as I pass; they always do, but I’m used to it by now. My green hair is natural, believe it or not. My mom swears it’s some rare genetic mutation, though she’s always been weirdly vague about the details.

I’ve learned to own it. Green hair and eyes so blue they’re almost white in certain lighting. I’m basically a walking Instagram filter; except I was born this way. “Kami! Wait up!”

I turn to see my best friend Lenna jogging towards me, her brown ponytail bouncing. She’s clutching a small gift bag covered in sparkly purple tissue paper. “I know, I know,” she pants as she reaches me. “I said I’d give this to you at lunch, but I forgot it in my locker.” She thrusts the bag into my hands, her dark eyes twinkling. “Happy birthday, weirdo.”

I peek inside and find a silver bracelet with tiny charms dangling from it; a book, a coffee cup, a crescent moon. This girl knows me too well! “Lenna, you didn’t have to!” I exclaim with a smile.

“Shut up and accept the gift.” She pulls me into a quick hug. “You’re eighteen! This is huge! Are you doing anything tonight?”

“Mom’s making dinner,” I say, slipping the bracelet onto my wrist. “Nothing fancy. Just the two of us.” Lenna’s expression softens. She knows it’s always been just me and my mom. No dad in the picture, no extended family that I know of. Mom doesn’t talk about my father; ever. When I was younger, I used to ask, but the pain in her eyes always made me stop. Eventually, I learned not to bring it up.

“Well, text me later,” Lenna says. “And send pics of whatever amazing cake she makes. Your mom’s baking skills are legendary.”

I laugh. “Will do.”

We say our goodbyes, and I continue down the sidewalk towards my home. The October sun hangs low in the sky, casting everything in shades of gold and amber. Leaves crunch beneath my sneakers, and I breathe in the smell of woodsmoke from someone’s chimney. It’s the kind of perfect fall day that makes you want to believe in magic.

Not that I believe in magic. I’m a realist. A pragmatist. I believe in what I can see, touch, and prove. Still, there’s something about today that feels... different. Like the air is humming with electricity, or like the world is holding its breath.

I shake off the feeling and pull out my phone, scrolling through birthday messages from classmates and distant relatives. My mom’s already texted me three times, each message more excited than the last. Happy birthday, my beautiful girl! Can’t wait to celebrate tonight. I love you more than words can say.

I smile and type back a quick response, my thumbs flying over the screen. My mom is the best. Overprotective, sure, but she’s been my rock for as long as I can remember. She works two jobs to keep us afloat, and she still manages to make every birthday feel special.

I’m about halfway home when I notice the guy. He’s standing on the corner of Fifth and Maple, leaning against a lamppost like he’s waiting for someone. Tall; really tall, maybe six and a half feet; with dark hair that falls into his eyes. He’s wearing all black; black jeans, a black jacket, and black boots. He looks like he stepped out of a gothic romance novel. And he’s staring right at me.

I slow my pace, my heart doing a weird little flutter in my chest. His eyes are locked on mine, and even from this distance, I can see they’re an intense, piercing green. The kind of green that doesn’t look entirely human. I blink, and he’s gone. Just... gone. Like he was never there.

Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, I feel my pulse quicken. That’s impossible. People don’t just vanish into thin air. I must have imagined it, or maybe he ducked into a nearby shop. Yeah, that’s it. Totally logical explanation.

Except there are no shops on this corner. Just a residential street lined with old oak trees. “Get it together, Kami,” I mutter to myself, picking up my pace. “You’re eighteen, not eight. There’s no such thing as disappearing men.”

But my skin prickles with unease, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched. I glance over my shoulder, half-expecting to see the guy in black following me, but the street is empty. Just me, the falling leaves, and the fading sunlight. I turn back around and nearly collide with someone.

“Whoa!” I stumble backwards, my backpack sliding off my shoulder. The person; another man, this one even taller than the first; reaches out to steady me. His hand wraps around my upper arm, and I feel a jolt of something electric shoot through me. It’s not painful, exactly, but it’s intense. Like touching a live wire.

“Sorry,” he says, his voice deep and smooth. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

I look up; way up, and my breath catches in my throat. He’s stunning. There’s no other word for it. He has to be at least seven feet tall, with long white-blonde hair that falls past his shoulders and eyes that are... white. Completely white, like freshly fallen snow. His features are sharp and angular, almost otherworldly, and his body. God, his body looks like it was carved from marble.

“It’s okay,” I manage to say, my voice coming out smaller than I intended. “I wasn’t paying attention.” He doesn’t let go of my arm. His white eyes scan my face, lingering on my hair, my eyes, and my skin. There’s something in his expression I can’t quite read, surprise? Recognition? Whatever it is, it makes my stomach twist with nerves.

“You’re...” He trails off, his brow furrowing. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Excuse me?” I pull my arm free and take a step back. “I live here. This is my neighborhood.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head slowly. “You don’t belong in this realm.” Realm? What the hell is he talking about?

“Look, I don’t know what kind of weird roleplay thing you’re into,” I say, trying to sound braver than I feel, “but I need to get home. So, if you’ll excuse me!” I move to step around him, but he blocks my path. Not aggressive, but firm. Like he’s trying to protect me from something.

“Listen to me,” he says, his voice urgent. “You’re in danger. They’re coming for you, and when they find you...”

“Who’s coming for me?” I demand, my fear morphing into irritation. “What are you even talking about?” Before he can answer, the air around us shifts. It’s subtle at first; a change in pressure, a drop in temperature, but then it becomes impossible to ignore. The sky darkens; the streetlights flicker, and a low, rumbling sound echoes from somewhere far away. Or maybe not so far away. The man with white eyes curses under his breath. “They’re here.”

“Who’s here?” I ask, my voice rising. “What’s happening?”

He grabs my hand, and that electric jolt returns stronger this time. “Stay close to me,” he says. “And whatever you do, don’t let go.”

I want to argue, demand answers, to run in the opposite direction. But something in his tone; something raw and desperate makes me trust him. At least for now. The rumbling grows louder, and the ground beneath my feet begins to tremble.

Cracks spiderweb across the pavement, and a blinding light erupts from the fissures. I shield my eyes with my free hand, my heart hammering in my chest. “What the hell is going on?!” I shout over the noise. The man doesn’t answer. He just pulls me closer, his grip on my hand tightening. And then the world splits open.