Brekkie

The warmth of sunlight and birds chirping. A bed—she was in a bed—sore and aching everywhere. Walls bathed in soft yellow light. It was so bright.

"I'm not dead," August breathed as memories began flooding back to her.

"You're awake," a gravelly voice sighed from the corner, startling her. The voice seemed familiar—it was so deep—but she couldn't place it. She groaned softly in response, squinting against the light. "I'll find Greta," he spoke again, and then she heard the soft click of a door closing.

August gingerly pushed herself up to notice a quilt covering her. It had delicate hexagon shapes in mismatched fabrics. It was beautiful—the care that had gone into making it was obvious. August remembered her grandmother tucking fabric snugly around small shapes just like this. She ran her fingers along the texture of the white stitches that dipped under and reappeared again and again.

A girl with bouncy, light peach hair breezed into the room, arriving swiftly by August's side. "It's so good to see you're awake," she smiled warmly. "You may not remember me from last night. I'm Greta." Greta. August nodded and swallowed, slowly remembering.

"August," she re-introduced herself.

"August Cady," Greta smiled knowingly. "We found your school i.d. How are you feeling?"

"Better," she replied, her voice sounding strange in her own ears. "I'm much better, thank you."

"You certainly look better. My brother Graeme will probably be skulking around behind me…" She turned around expectantly. "Yep! Here he comes." She laughed softly as the man from the corner slowly returned to the doorway, hands in his pockets. An unexpected intensity burned in his eyes as he met August's gaze, and she quickly looked away.

Greta laughed lightly again and patted August's hand as if there was some kind of understanding offered in that small gesture. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions for us, and I promise you we'll answer them as best as we can."

August failed to recall a more uplifting, seemingly genuine person than the young woman in front of her, and somehow, despite everything, she felt at ease. She imagined Greta in a princess gown waving a wand as munchkins danced around her. 'Greta, the Good Witch of the Forest.'

"Where am I?" August asked weakly.

"You are somewhere safe in Hallows Forest," Greta answered brightly. "This is actually a kind of outpost of ours. It's protected. No one can find you here."

'They're looking for me,' she thought. 'Jonathan.' August gulped, pushing the fear away quickly.

"Who… um," August paused. "Who are you?" Greta and Graeme exchanged a quick glance.

"Well that is actually a bit complicated," Greta laughed. "But for now know that we're friends."

'Conveniently vague and yet reassuring nonetheless. I guess I'll have to be satisfied with that for now,' she thought. August nodded and smiled slightly, looking back down at the quilt.

"Ah, do you like it? This is called a healing quilt. Many hands worked on this. It's what gives it so much power." Greta gazed lovingly at the quilt as well, caressing it and gesturing toward some hidden force. "It watched over you all night. Along with someone else," she glanced back at her brother whose eyebrows pinched together as he looked down uncomfortably.

August's head went hazy with all this information and the bright sunlight and the impossibility of the events that had apparently actually unfolded in reality. But she couldn't help but smile at Greta's warmth.

"We're twins, you know," Greta whispered as she leaned toward August, covering both her hands with her own. She squeezed them and stood back up. "Now I'm going to bring you some food to help you regain your strength. I'll be back in a minute!" She chirped before breezing back out of the room, passing her brother on the way out.

Graeme stood silently in the hallway watching August. She could feel his eyes on her, and she shifted under the sheets nervously. The insanely horrific experience from the night before began flashing through her mind—three of her friends were apparently dead and she narrowly escaped whatever maniac Jonathan was. She wet her lips nervously and swallowed, reliving it. And here she was now in a house with strangers. Her body was utterly exhausted, but the pain was gone. She had survived. Somehow. She couldn't understand any of it.

She looked down at her bandaged arm, reaching out absentmindedly to touch it before quickly jerking her hand away when she remembered how she had bit into it the night before. And the creature that had been chasing her… Her head began spinning, and she swallowed back a wave of nausea that threatened to resurface. "You saved me, didn't you?" she asked weakly, still focused on her arm.

Graeme shifted his weight in the doorway. "I found you in the woods," he said. The tone of his voice was guarded, but there was a hint of something else in it. Worry? She glanced up at him.

Her eyes scanned him for the first time, taking in the face that belonged to the voice she had heard only briefly the night before. His eyes were so intense. And there seemed to be a flash of expectation as he stared back at her. It made her stomach trill uneasily.

"Th-thank you," she stammered, quickly looking down at her hands again. "It sounded like you weren't supposed to. But…"

"You heard Lucas," he said it so low it sounded like a growl.

"Um—yeah, I-I guess. I hope I didn't cause any trouble," she said. "I mean… obviously I did." She shrugged at her own absurdity. "I'm—um…" She trailed off, vaguely considering apologizing, but she didn't know what for.

"No, it wasn't any trouble that you need to worry about," Graeme sighed, staring at the light filtering in through the windows behind her. Small particles were floating around her in the soft morning beams like stardust. He lost his train of thought as his eyes fell on her again. 'How can this be happening?' he wondered. Her light hair fell around her shoulders as she stared at her own upturned hands.

Surely he couldn't explain any of this to her now, but somehow he wished he could. She looked lost and alone right now, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything. How would he even begin?

August looked up after his silence stretched on. Her eyes had golden flecks in them, Graeme noticed. They seemed to burn brighter for a moment before she looked away again. Maybe he was imagining things. He hadn't been able to see her eyes last night. She was in so much pain. His jaw clenched again at the memory.

"I'm glad I found you. I'm sorry you had to go through this," he sighed internally at his own insufficient words. It was hard even saying that much, so it was the best he could do for now.

"Since I'm doing… better," she faltered, realizing that she had no clue what was actually wrong with her to begin with, "I can leave. I don't want to cause anymore issues," she chanced a look at Graeme who appeared troubled by her words.

Greta breezed back in with a tray of food. She set it on the bed, propped up over August's lap. August's eyes widened as she looked at it all. Steam was rising from a bowl and a tea cup. There was a plate of fruit, toast, eggs, sausage, orange juice, a glass pitcher of water… too much for her to possibly eat and drink.

"This is going to give you much-needed strength," Greta touched August's shoulder, and suddenly August felt her stomach growl hungrily. "Please eat as much as you can, but start with the bowl. It's bone broth with ginger and cilantro and other wonderful things that will help," Greta smiled. "I'll be back in a little bit to do some bloodwork, okay?" August nodded. "Good girl."

Greta passed Graeme and touched his arm. 'We have to talk,' she said wordlessly. It was a gift they shared as twins. Greta was able to influence people's emotions with a simple touch—it was part of what made her such a good healer. But her and Graeme could pass thoughts as well. They had kept it a secret as kids, planning mischief or comforting each other with a simple touch. It was so much easier than speaking, especially for Graeme. Their parents eventually caught on when they were ten years old, but it wasn't common knowledge even now.

Graeme hesitated for a moment before finally turning to follow her into another bedroom at the end of the hallway. She didn't want to go back downstairs where Finn was wandering about, as he tended to follow her brother around like a lost puppy. She turned to look at Graeme as he closed the door behind them.

"Lucas called the elders and told them everything," Greta whispered, folding her arms in front of her. "Marius is coming."