You open the door to find Maren standing in the hallway, her gray hair pulled back in its usual severe bun, her lined face set in an expression of patient disapproval.

Maren has been your caretaker since you were old enough to remember. She raised you and the other gem-born children in this house—fed you, clothed you, taught you to read and count and think. She’s never been warm, exactly. But she’s been constant. Reliable. The closest thing to family any gem-born has.

“You look pale,” she says, her sharp eyes taking in your face. “Bad dreams?”

The question catches you off guard. In all your years, Maren has never asked about your dreams. She’s always been focused on practical matters—lessons, schedules, preparations for the day you’d leave this house and take your place in Eldermoor.

“I…” You hesitate. The dream is already fading, but the feeling lingers. The sense of something terrible lurking just beneath the surface of everything you know.

Maren watches you, waiting. There’s something in her eyes you’ve never noticed before. A tension. A wariness.

As if she’s afraid of what you might say.

“It was nothing,” you hear yourself say. “Just nerves about the ceremony.”

Something flickers across her face. Relief? Disappointment? It’s gone before you can name it.

“The ceremony,” she repeats, her voice carefully neutral. “Yes. Today is a significant day for you. For all of Eldermoor.” She pauses. “You should eat. Dress. The others are already gathering in the common room.”

She turns to go, then stops.

“Whatever happens today,” she says without looking back, “remember that you are stronger than you know. The gem chose you for a reason.”

Before you can ask what she means, she’s walking away down the hall, her footsteps echoing on the stone.

You stand in the doorway, watching her go, a new unease settling in your chest.

The gem chose you.

Everyone knows gem-born children are special. Touched by the crystal’s power. Destined for greatness.

But Maren said it like it meant something else entirely.