---

The Cold Death

As Aelina reaches their house, she could feel something was not right somewhere

The violet pendant she wore gleamed as if something was calling it. As she reached the entrance she could hear some stifled noises then she barged in, only to be met with the cold,lifeless body of her mother. Beside the lifeless body was her twin sister, Yvonne she was shedding tears but not Aelina,just then their aunt Vivienne arrived, screaming on top of her voice

“Oh! Thalia,Had it been u listened…………” she said between sobs hugging the twins.

The funeral was to be on the last day of the week.

On that day, during the service celebration. Heavy rain started.

Aelina,

She didn't flinch when the coffin was lowered not even when aunty Vivienne whispered to her

“She is at peace now" nor when Yvonne squeezed her cold, trembling hands in hers.

Peace. What a lie

The people of town of Wrenmor came to mourn their own from their faces one could see, their eyes dull with feign compassion. Not for once did they like Thalia genuinely She was too strange,quiet, powerful and mysterious for them and now she was dead they can finally mourn her with no guilt

The priest's voice drew on, but Aelina didn't listen. Her eyes glued on the coffin. a rich,white dark wood that shimmers even under the cloud. Their mother had chosen it herself years back. It was as if she knew this was going to occur. Her mind flew back to the night before.

She knew she would die, Aelina thought. She knew.

Beside her, Yvonne swayed slightly, her eyes closed, lips moving in a silent rhythm This was something she always does whenever she is overwhelmed.

A cold wind whipped through the cemetery. Aelina clutched the chain around her neck—the pendant warm against her skin, though it hadn’t been in the sun all day.

The stone inside it was a deep violet, with a tiny flame trapped inside like a living ember and a little ancient carvings on it. Yvonne wore one too, except hers shimmered silver-blue, like ice under the moonlight. Their mother had given them the pendants on their thirteenth Birthday as their gifts.

“These are not ordinary jewelry” Thalia had warned.

“They are your identities and a mirage of protection and duty. As long as you wear them, your power is contained. Your connection is shielded. The world cannot find you…..not now,not yet “

And then, the part she’d made them swear never to forget:

“Before you turn twenty, you must find the Mother Goddess. She is the only one who can awaken what you truly are—and keep it from consuming you. If you wait too long, the Hollow will take you back.”

Though, it sounded like a myth to the young lads. A bedtime story from a mother who walked the line between magic and madness.

Now,it felt real. Each moment replaying through Aelina's head like a tickling clock and she too found her mother's death suspicious

Then, the service ended. Aunt Vivienne approached, her red nails like blood against black gloves. “Come home. Vale Hollow is not safe to return to alone.”

Aelina stared. “It’s our home.”

Vivienne’s mouth tightened. “It was your mother’s. You’re children now, not heirs. Not until—”

“What killed her?” Yvonne cut in, her voice sharp.

Vivienne blinked. “An accident. The official report—”

“She bled out with no wounds,” Yvonne snapped and cut her off

“Her heart was missing, Vivienne. But there was no blood. That’s not an accident.” added Aelina whose eye was now filled with fury

Vivienne’s eyes flickered “Wrenmoor has seen worse. Go home if you must. But remember: the Hollow remembers everything and it does not forgive.”

Remember!

---

That night, the sisters returned to Vale Hollow.

The old house loomed from the cliffs, all broken spires and windows like watching eyes. Aelina felt something move under the floorboards—like the house had exhaled.

Is she still here? Aelina thought.

Not in a hopeful way. In a way that made her spine lock and her vision blur.

As they entered the grand hall, the air shifted.

Then something clinked softly on the marble floor—a metallic sound. Yvonne stooped to pick it up. In her palm was an old iron key, blackened with age, carved with runes neither of them could read.

Tied to it was a note in their mother’s handwriting:

For the door that should never be opened.

And for the daughters who already have.

---

The pendants throbbed dimly against their skin—one warm, one cold—as if waking up

A whisper came from nowhere and everywhere:

“The Mother is waiting. But not forever.”

---

The girls stood being as confused as ever,heart racing.

Confused.Terrified and too late.