Whispers of Worlds Beyond: A Series

Aiden…

The wind carried a faint scent of wood, tinged with sweetness, and a whisper so soft it was nearly lost to the breeze. Whether it came from the world around him or somewhere deep within, Aiden couldn't tell.

Aideen…

His eyes fluttered open, just as a sharp ray of sunlight broke through the clouds and pierced his vision. He winced, raising an arm to shield his face from the dazzling light. The wind swept over him, carrying that same sweet scent, and his body, tense and coiled like a spring, instantly began to relax. A small, unbidden smile curved his lips.

Surely, this is heaven, he thought as he lay there, weightless and carefree.

His mind drifted back to his childhood, to the backyard of their house where he and his younger brother Blaze would play. He would often be with his younger brother, either playing by their miniature playground or climbing the oak tree until the sun dipped below the horizon. But something was different now—this place was far too quiet.

Aideeeennnn…

The voice called again, distant yet insistent.

"I'm coming, Mum," he murmured, his voice hoarse. Pushing himself upright, he felt an unfamiliar prick against his arms and legs.

His fingers brushed the ground beneath him.

Grass?

Confused, Aiden blinked, rubbing his eyes as if trying to clear away a dream. The sensation of the grass was too vivid, too real. It felt like the lawn at home, only wilder and more untamed.

Wait… the lawn?

Why would he be outside? He had just been tucked into bed by Ettore, their butler, after a long day.

Aideeeeennnn…

The voice grew louder, cutting through his thoughts like a knife. His heart quickened, and fragments of memory flashed through his mind. Playing in the library with Blaze... Their father's furious voice after they damaged a book... His mother sitting on his bed, holding his hand with firm reassurance, telling him to keep his emotions in check... Ettore's quiet steps as he pulled the covers over him. He shouldn't be here.

He should be in bed.

Aiddeeeennnn…

He spun around, expecting to see his mother at the backdoor of their house. He could almost picture her in her usual get-up when she's baking: dressed in her green apron patterned with daisies, her hair tied up in a bun, calling him and Blaze for dinner with that soft, patient smile. Behind her, Ettore would wait, ever watchful, ready to assist her with even the smallest of tasks.

But there was no mother. No house. No brother. No butler.

Instead, there was a tree.

It stood before him, majestic and ancient, a twist of gnarled roots and evergreen branches. The tree exuded solitude and mysticism, framed against a sky streaked with fiery oranges and blues. The sun hung suspended just above the horizon, frozen in its descent, casting long shadows across the field.

A gust of wind stirred the leaves, carrying that same sweet scent that had first awakened him. Aiden's breath caught.

Was he dreaming? Dead? Kidnapped?

He clenched the neckline of his shirt, his heart pounding so hard it felt as though it might burst free, his shirt feeling like shackles choking him.

"No," he whispered, shaking his head as if to dispel the impossible. He rubbed his eyes again, but the scenery remained. The sprawling field stretched endlessly around him, devoid of buildings, trees, or anything else but the singular, imposing oak. The grass beneath his feet was short, neat but wild in its growth, unfamiliar yet not threatening.

His thoughts spiraled. The scenery hadn't changed, and his heart caught in his throat.

Is he dead? Is he dreaming? Is he kidnapped? Hallucinating?

All thoughts swirled in his head as a small bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.

Was this because of what happened earlier in the morning? Was he cursed?, the boy thought.

Hesitantly, the boy took a step forward.

His fear should have frozen him, but instead, a strange calm washed over him. With each step, the tightness in his chest eased, the tremble in his hands subsided. By the time he reached the tree, it felt as though all his worries had melted away.

Placing a hand on the rough bark, he traced the grooves with trembling fingers. The tree seemed alive, almost sentient.

It radiated an ancient warmth, soothing him with an unspoken promise of safety. He wanted to resist, to stay wary—but the tree stripped him bare of defenses, leaving him unguarded yet strangely unafraid.

The breeze shifted again, carrying whispers of comfort. For a boy who had always lived under the glare of expectations, the shadows beneath the tree felt like a welcome breath of fresh air.

He was about to sit, to let the tree's presence envelop him, when a sound broke through the stillness.

His body tensed.

This was different. Not the wind, not the rustle of leaves. The sound was harsher, and he could faintly hear the sound of flapping wings.

Keep calm, he thought to himself, tightening his already balled fists. Up above him, came a small tapping sound. Slowly, he looked up, bracing himself for the worst, to see a small bird perched on one of the tree's branches, looking directly at him.

Jet-black feathers gleamed like polished obsidian, catching the dying sunlight. Its sharp eyes met his, unblinking.

"Hey," he murmured, stepping forward carefully.

The bird cocked its head, letting out a piercing caw before spreading its wings.

Aiden reached out instinctively, as if he could grasp the creature, but it was already soaring away, disappearing into the horizon.

"Wait!" he cried, lunging forward and sitting up in a flash. His hands grasped at nothing but air. The bark beneath his palm dissolved into nothingness.

But there was no bird.There even was no tree. There was no sunset suspended in time. There was no breeze that carries a sweet scent of pine.

The familiar red and gold furnishings of the four-story mansion in Surrey surrounded him, every detail in its proper place, like how everything disappeared as quickly as it appeared before him.

No tree. No bird. No endless field.

And no answers.