Chapter 1 The Last Healer

• Dusk enveloped the room. The universe appeared to be suspended between breaths at this period of transition, when light and shadow engaged in their age-old game.
• With her grandmother's weakened body now hardly more than a whisper, Lucy sat next to her bed. The chamber smelled of dried herbs and the smoke from the fire, a familiar scent that had served as a recall and a source of comfort for her all her life. Lucy had learned everything she knew about healing inside this house. It was there that she had acquired the age-old, sacred skill.
• Her grandmother's voice was fragile with age, barely more than a croak. With her eyes drooping and hardly open, she replied, "You will bear the burden." "The final Healer."
• At the words, Lucy's heart tightened. Even though she had always known and always feared it, the finality of it hung heavy in the room's silence when she heard it. The only person in their family to actually understand the traditional methods and possess the abilities of the mystic healers was her grandmother. And now she was the one with the mantle.
• But if I don't succeed? Lucy muttered, her voice hardly containing the terror. "What if I lack the necessary strength? “
• Her grandmother's palm tightened in a brief display of strength that made Lucy's chest thump. "Lucy, muscle does not equal strength. The realization that you are never alone is what it is. even if you feel like you are.
• Lucy couldn't really understand the weight of the words that hovered in the room. She had always believed that she could study and comprehend the traditional methods, but becoming the last healer was a very different matter.
• "Have faith in the land," her granny added. "Have faith in your surroundings. When the time is right, you'll know.
• Lucy nodded, but a sense of impending doom still plagued her. She wasn't prepared. She wasn't ready. Lucy could only do what she usually did when her grandmother's breathing slowed, softened, and became fainter: listen to the silence and take in what little was left.
• As the last of the sunshine disappeared behind the mountains, the room appeared to get darker. The silence grew uncomfortable at that point. The weight of the impending change pressed against Lucy's chest as the air became heavier. She closed her eyes in an attempt to ignore the thoughts and find some meaning in the deafening quiet.
• And then… a shift.
• At first, it was faint, like a breeze whispering across motionless air. Something outside the room's walls. Something far, but close enough to make her skin tingle with consciousness.
• The world appeared to dissolve into a swirl of mist and shadows as the environment dimmed in the darkness behind her eyelids. Only outlines moved against the dim light of an unidentified source; there were no distinct shapes or faces that were familiar. It was a different world from the one she had experienced, one in which time appeared to bend strangely and the elements ruled.
• Lucy had experienced similar dreams in the past, prophetic visions that had come to her since childhood, visions that had led her, alerted her to danger, and unlocked riddles. Even if she didn't always understand what they meant, she had learned early on to trust them and to pay attention when they called. Nevertheless, this vision, this dream, felt different. It seemed to have bloodline's something much more intimate at its core.
• Now the air was frigid, a chill that crept into her bones in a way that was both odd and cool, spreading like a fine mist. A freshness, a crispness, that seemed to hold the promise of something new, instead of the brutal cold of the Freeze. She should have shivered as it encircled her like the softest blanket, but instead, she felt a strange calm. The world around her seemed to be frozen, but not in agony, like the silence following a storm.
• As the silhouettes drew nearer, Lucy unconsciously realized they weren't simply outlines in the fog. They were creatures, but she couldn't see their characteristics. She looked at one of them, taller, wider, with a sense of something strong. The temperature surrounding them grew colder, and as they approached, Lucy recognized something, but she couldn't pinpoint why.
• Unlike the lethal frost of the Freeze, the coldness was not dangerous. No, things were different. As if this image and the coldness they carried were a sign, it was purifying, cleansing. A fresh start.
• Her voice would not come, even though she wanted to speak and reach out. Rather, she stood motionless, torn between awe and doubt. The form remained cloaked and dark, and the figure was still too far away. However, the cold—unfamiliar, inviting cold—remained, and she felt a great feeling of expectation.
• Just as swiftly as it had appeared, the presence vanished. The chill subsided into a profound silence as the dream changed once more. When Lucy opened her eyes and saw that the room's gentle light had completely given way to the night outside, her heart began to race. Tranquility remained, yet a persistent feeling of incompleteness lingered.
• As Lucy struggled to collect herself, the only sound in the room was her grandmother's gentle breathing, but the dream's weight hung over her mind like a refreshing wind. Although she could not articulate it, she was aware of the significance of the figure in the dream; she realized that. The cold they brought with them wasn't a passing feeling. It represented a shift and a significant event that would happen in her life.
• Lucy remained by her grandmother’s side, the world outside stilling under the heavy blanket of night, but inside her, the dream had sparked a quiet storm—a quiet anticipation for what was to come. A figure. A coldness. A future she hadn’t yet understood but was beginning to feel drawing near.
• Her grandmother’s voice, soft and distant, echoed in her mind. “You will know when the time comes.”
• And Lucy could feel it, in her bones, that the time was coming soon.