Golderine woke up late in the afternoon, her head heavy with sleep and something else—something strange. A strange warmth pulsed from her chest and neck. Instinctively, she raised her hand to her throat and touched the delicate skin there. Her fingers brushed against something cool and metallic. Frowning, she slowly got up and made her way to the bathroom.
Standing in front of the mirror, she froze.
The reflection staring back at her was… unfamiliar. It was her, yet not her. She leaned closer, heart thudding in her chest. Her features had shifted ever so slightly—but dramatically. Her skin glowed softly, kissed by a subtle, radiant light. Her lips were fuller, more defined, with a soft pink hue that didn't require makeup. Her cheekbones stood out elegantly. But what shocked her most were her eyes: they were sharper, almost glowing from within, like a storm of moonlight simmered just beneath the surface.
And then, her hair. Golderine ran her fingers through it, eyes wide. Once jet-black and shoulder-length, it had transformed overnight into a cascade of long, flowing rose-gold strands laced with streaks of shimmering silver. It was soft as silk, ethereal in texture, falling down her back like waves of starlight. Under the bathroom light, it caught every shimmer and scattered it like sunlight on water.
"Oh my god…" she whispered.
A luminous crescent moon that entwined with vines on her collarbone gleamed, its silver tendrils curling against her skin like they were alive. She reached to remove it, but the vines seemed to grip tighter, resisting. Each time she tried to pull it off, it clung more. Her heart raced.
"What the hell—?" she gasped, eyes wide.
Suddenly, the pendant pulsed once—then vanished. It didn't fall to the floor. It sank into her skin. She staggered backward, staring at her reflection, eyes scanning for any trace of the necklace. And then—her eyes turned completely white. The irises faded, her pupils vanished. Pure white light filled them, glowing like tiny moons. She gasped in shock, stumbling toward the door.
"Aunt Mariam! Lucien!" she shouted in panic, barreling through the hallway. "Where are you?!"
She found them in the garden, seated calmly on the bench surrounded by blooming marigolds. Birds chirped softly in the late-afternoon light.
"You've finally woken up," Lucien said, standing up as he and Mariam turned toward her. "We were starting to worry."
"Please—someone pinch me. Am I dreaming? I'm not even sure if any of this is real anymore," Golderine said breathlessly. "It disappeared into me. The necklace. It just... vanished under my skin. And my eyes—they turned white. I saw it! What's happening to me?!"
Mariam frowned and exchanged a brief glance with Lucien, both momentarily silent. Lucien raised an eyebrow, clearly confused.
"Disappeared?" Mariam echoed. "What do you mean, disappeared?"
"The pendant! The crescent moon pendant!" Golderine gestured frantically to her neck. "It was here—glowing. It had vines, like it was alive. Then it just sank into me. And then my eyes—something's wrong. Am I going blind?"
She opened her eyes wide, stepping forward as if trying to show them the proof of her insanity. "I swear I'm not making this up. It was real!"
"Oh, that pendant," Mariam said softly, stepping closer with understanding dawning on her face. "You're not dreaming, Golderine. I saw it on you this morning. What you experienced... it's not your imagination. It was real."
Golderine stared at her, stunned. Mariam reached forward, placing a warm hand on her shoulder and speaking with rare gentleness.
"Your powers are awakening, child."
But Golderine wasn't fully listening anymore. Her thoughts had spiraled elsewhere. Monday. School. What would people say when they saw her like this? She didn't just look different—she looked supernatural. Her friends, teachers, the bullies... How would she explain the sudden transformation of her face, her hair, her eyes?
Her lips moved before she could stop herself. "How am I going to explain this on Monday?" she whispered, her voice low and filled with dread.
Mariam blinked. "Did you hear what I just said to you?"
"Mmm… I heard something," Golderine replied faintly.
Lucien gave her a pointed look, smirking slightly at her dazed confusion.
"What did I say?" Mariam asked again, her voice a touch more serious.
Golderine blinked rapidly. "Something about powers, I think…?" she said uncertainly.
"I said your powers are awakening," Mariam repeated calmly. "And if you truly want to understand what's happening, I suggest you calm down and ask me the right questions."
"Powers?" Golderine echoed, her voice breaking on the word. "This… this can't be real. You're talking like this is a movie or something."
"I'm talking about you," Mariam said patiently. "Your hair, your eyes, your skin. The pendant. What other explanation could there be? You've always been special, Golderine. You just didn't know it yet."
"I—I can't deal with this right now," Golderine muttered, turning away. "This must be a dream. It has to be. I'm going back to sleep. I'll wake up, and everything will be normal again."
She started to walk away, but then her stomach let out a loud, furious growl.
Lucien, barely containing his laughter, said with a mischievous grin, "Do stomachs growl in dreams?"
Golderine turned to glare at him.
He held up his hands in mock surrender. "I'm just saying… maybe eat first, then check if it's all a dream."
Even Mariam chuckled, shaking her head. "I'll make something for you. You must be starving."
Golderine rubbed her stomach with a sigh. "Okay... maybe a little hungry," she admitted reluctantly.
She followed them back inside, her steps slow and uncertain, her mind still racing. As they entered the kitchen, the familiar aroma of spices, herbs, and warmth greeted her. Everything should've felt normal—but nothing was anymore.
She looked at Mariam and Lucien again, studying their faces for a hint of a prank or exaggeration. But all she saw was calm seriousness.
"Do I really have powers?" Golderine asked suddenly, her voice quiet but unwavering, her eyes gleaming with a mix of fear and curiosity.
Mariam, who had been stirring a pot of stew at the stove, paused. She turned to face her niece with a calm expression and nodded slowly. "Yes, you do, Gold. But they're only just beginning to awaken. It's happening gradually."
"Gradually? What do you mean by that?" Golderine tilted her head, trying to hide the flicker of hope in her voice.
Mariam gave a soft chuckle, her eyes reflecting years of secrets. "Slowly, child. You're not like the rest of us. When Lucien and I were young, we were born with powers. They erupted early—causing chaos and noise before we could even walk straight. You, on the other hand… you are different. You're something else entirely."
"Different? Special how?" Golderine leaned forward, her earlier skepticism momentarily replaced with wonder, like a child being told a fairy tale for the first time.
"You were chosen," Mariam said, turning back to finish preparing the food. "By the Moon Goddess. And maybe even by the Nature Goddess, judging by the vine-like markings that appeared around your neck with that pendant. They're ancient symbols, not mere decoration."
Golderine raised a brow. "You mean the pendant that disappeared into my skin?"
Mariam nodded. "Yes. That wasn't an accident. That crescent moon and its vines... they've fused with your essence. You've been claimed, Golderine."
Golderine blinked, her logical mind scrambling to find footing in this surreal reality. "Aunt Mariam, I swear... you're telling me stories. None of this makes sense. We live in the real world. Magic doesn't exist. Powers don't exist. Moon and Nature Goddesses? Those are just myths—fairytales written in dusty old books."
Mariam smiled, not with amusement, but with understanding. "Of course they're fantasy in this world. Here, you're told to believe in reason, in science, in logic. Here, anything unexplainable is dismissed. But where you truly belong, my dear, magic is the explanation. Powers exist. And so do goddesses."
Golderine narrowed her eyes, her voice turning sarcastic. "What do you mean, where I 'truly belong'? You're telling me I'm not from this world? What is this now—sci-fi multiverse nonsense? Aunt Mary, did you drink some wine before I woke up?"
Mariam laughed gently. "No wine, sweetheart. Just truth. Call it another world. A different realm. A multiverse, if that helps your brain wrap around it. But what matters is this: the place where you were born is not here. You were hidden in this world for a reason. And the reason is tied to your parents."
At the mention of her parents, Golderine froze. A heaviness filled her chest.
"My... parents?" she whispered, her voice suddenly fragile. "You never talk about them. Whenever I asked, you brushed me off or changed the subject. Why now?"
Mariam's expression softened. She placed a warm bowl of stew in front of Golderine and gently rested a hand on her shoulder. "Because it's finally time. The truth has waited long enough. But first—eat. You'll need strength for what's coming."
Golderine turned to Lucien, who had been silently watching the exchange from across the room, leaning against the wall like a silent guardian.
"Lucien... is any of this real?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Is what she's saying true? About the goddesses... and the other world? My parents?"
Lucien nodded once, his gaze steady. "Yes, it's all true. As unbelievable as it sounds, it's your reality now. Just finish your food. You'll get your answers after."
Something in his voice calmed her. Maybe it was the certainty in it. Or maybe it was because Lucien never joked about serious things—not like this.
Golderine didn't argue further. She picked up the spoon and began to eat in silence, her mind spinning. The stew tasted like comfort, but it couldn't settle the storm inside her. So many emotions clashed within her: fear, curiosity, grief, and something new—an awakening sense of destiny.
As she sat there, the golden evening light from the kitchen window spilled across her face, casting highlights in her newly transformed hair. She looked almost ethereal—like a painting from a forgotten world.
She rested her chin on her hand, lost in thought. Everything had changed. She wasn't the same girl from last week—the shy, bullied girl who lived in shadows. That version of her was fading fast, replaced by something unfamiliar and powerful.
She was no longer just Golderine Grande.
She was something more.
And though she didn't yet know what path lay ahead, she could feel it—tugging at her like moonlight on the tides.
The world would have to get ready for who she was becoming.
And so would she.