There was once a land filled with sweetness and joy, a forgotten empire called Marshrel, ruled not by kings, but by demigoddesses. That’s how Grandma always began her stories. As a child, Jane would sit cross-legged at her feet, eyes wide, half believing, half doubting. Now, as an adult, she smiled at the memory every time Grandma got going with one of her tales.
“In Marshrel,” Grandma would say, “a demigoddess is born every hundred years. Chosen by the gods. She is raised in the Temple, nourished by holy fruits, taught by wise elders, and trained by fearless warriors. She leads the empire with strength, compassion, and grace…”
“Yeah, yeah, Grandma. Rootless wars, corrupted queens, whispers from the gods—I’ve heard this one,” Jane muttered with a grin, shoveling the last bite of toast into her mouth.
“Off to work again?” Grandma asked, raising an eyebrow.
Jane kissed her on the cheek. “Yep. And don’t forget to put the salad in the fridge this time.”
“Freezer?” Grandma teased, pretending not to hear.
“Fridge, Grandma! Not the freezer!” Jane laughed as she slung her bag over her shoulder and darted toward the door.
“Okay, boss lady,” Grandma called out after her, voice warm with love.
Outside, the city of Albany was waking up in its usual rhythm. Skaters zigzagged along the sidewalk, joggers bounced to the beat in their ears, and dry leaves danced in the early autumn breeze. Jane made her way toward the subway station, weaving through the morning bustle with practiced agility.
Her name was Jane—though a few people at work jokingly called her “Jenny Dizzy,” thanks to her uncanny ability to nap in the weirdest places. She hated the nickname, mostly because it was true. But not during work. Well… except for that one time—but she preferred not to think about it.
Jane was a journalist for Rush Newspapers. It sounded exciting on paper, but the reality was far from glamorous. Her dream was to travel the world, write inspiring stories, maybe even publish a book someday. Instead, she was stuck reporting on local community events and the occasional bizarre cat-rescue story.
Her boss, Mr. Drayton, was impossible. Always storming in, always shouting. Rumor had it his wife left him after only a month of marriage, claiming he was emotionally unavailable and, well… physically underwhelming. Jane didn’t care much for office gossip, but the man’s sour attitude certainly gave the rumor some weight.
She had two close friends at work: Isabella and Grace. The third one—Shin—was the office annoyance. Good-looking in a “brooding anime guy” way, with sharp features and piercing eyes, but insufferably smug. Jane couldn’t stand him, though he did have a knack for writing catchy headlines.
At least Isabella and Grace made the place bearable. Isabella was sweet and thoughtful, practically a sister. Grace, bold and opinionated, was planning her escape from the paper. “Bigger job on the way,” she’d whisper like it was a top-secret mission.
Jane’s real sister, Bella, had recently graduated college and spent most of her time at home with Grandma. Jane had gone to college first—Grandma couldn’t afford both girls at once, and Jane, always the “smart one,” was chosen to go first. Bella waited patiently, eventually earning her degree in fashion design. Despite her love for fashion, Grandma insisted Bella had a greater destiny. “Born a guardian,” she’d say cryptically.
As Jane reached the office, she nodded a tired hello to the security guard and climbed the stairs two at a time. She slid into her desk just as Mr. Drayton burst through the door.
“People! It’s not enough!” he barked, walking briskly through the office. “I want something bold, something fresh! A headline that screams Read me!” He paused by Shin’s desk. “Not bad. But not good enough. Push harder!”
He slammed his office door, leaving behind a heavy silence.
Grace exhaled. “That man is going to give me an ulcer.”
Jane slumped into her seat. “He nearly caught me sleeping last week. I don’t think I can survive another day of this.”
“So, what’s your plan?” Grace asked.
“I don’t know,” Jane admitted. “Sometimes I think about moving away. Somewhere quiet. New job. New life.”
“You serious?” Grace leaned in.
Jane shrugged. “Maybe. Not like I’ve got anything holding me here.”
Grace gave her a side glance. “You sure about that?”
Jane didn’t answer. She stared at her screen, the blinking cursor waiting for inspiration. An hour passed. Then two. Her fingers hovered, then rested on the keyboard. Her eyelids drooped. She told herself she’d just close them for a minute.
Instead, she plunged into a dream.
A little girl stood in front of her, eyes brimming with tears, face streaked with mud and blood. She wore an ancient robe, her small hand clutching something Jane couldn’t see. Behind her, chaos unfolded—screams, flames, shadows with weapons cutting through air and flesh. Jane reached for her, desperate to pull her away.
But the girl screamed. A bone-shaking sound that echoed into the sky.
Jane jolted awake.
She was sweating, her heart racing. She looked at the clock: 6:30 PM.
“Crap!” she hissed, wiping her face. She quickly gathered her things and darted out of the office, praying no one had noticed.
She didn’t know it yet, but that dream would change everything.