Grand Central Station pulsed with the energy of a January morning, its vast concourse alive with hurried footsteps, clipped conversations, and the ceaseless flow of travelers. Beneath the chandeliers and celestial ceiling, thousands of lives crossed paths without pause, each person intent on a destination known only to them.
Outside the station’s grand façade, a sleek black Rolls-Royce Phantom pulled up to the curb. Its polished surface caught the pale morning sun, drawing glances even from pedestrians too hurried to stop. The vehicle came to a smooth halt, carrying the quiet authority of something accustomed to being noticed.
Mārtiņš stepped out of the driver’s seat, impeccably dressed as always. He walked around the vehicle, opened the rear door, and stepped aside.
Azure emerged first.
A heavy olive wool coat covered his tailored black suit, making him look dressed for far colder weather than the unusually mild morning warranted. He turned and reached into the vehicle.
Jessica accepted it and stepped onto the sidewalk.
She wore a black Chanel pantsuit that Vela had given her, partially concealed beneath a cream wool-and-cashmere peacoat. Together, she and Azure looked as though they were arriving for an occasion of considerable importance, though Azure still had not told her what it was.
Passersby glanced toward them before being swept along by the morning rush.
Azure nodded to Mārtiņš, then took Jessica’s hand and led her toward the station.
His grip was firmer than usual.
Jessica looked at him, waiting for an explanation. None came. Nor did he murmur one of the magick words she had come to expect when he intended to take her somewhere impossible.
Only determination hardened his features.
The doors opened before them, revealing the vast concourse in all its controlled chaos. Travelers hurried in every direction beneath the celestial ceiling, their footsteps ringing on the marble floor.
Azure entered without hesitation.
Jessica followed, occasionally struggling to keep up with his pace as he guided her through clusters of commuters and around travelers dragging luggage. He moved as though he knew exactly where he was going.
That made one of them.
They crossed the concourse and climbed three flights of stairs. Above a set of doors, gold lettering directed them toward Vanderbilt Avenue. Beneath it, another name appeared:
THE CAMPBELL APARTMENT.
Jessica glanced at Azure, but he kept moving forward.
Beyond the doors, the station's noise faded. They stepped onto a quieter landing, where another entrance displayed the address 15 VANDERBILT AVENUE and the same name they had seen inside.
THE CAMPBELL APARTMENT.
Each threshold seemed to carry them farther from the public station and deeper into a hidden place within it.
Azure led her onward, up another short flight of steps and through a series of heavy doors. A discreet sign read The Campbell Bar. To the right, a staircase climbed toward a closed door.
Azure turned left instead.
Jessica slowed.
An unmarked entrance waited there, inconspicuous enough that most people would have walked past it without noticing.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Azure,” she said, tightening her grip on his hand. “Where exactly are you taking me?”
Azure glanced toward the Campbell Bar's entrance.
“It is a bit early for a drink,” he said with a smile.
He slowly pulled open the unmarked door, its hinges creaking as the Wicca Room came into view beyond it.
Jessica stopped at the threshold.
Her first visit returned to memory at once—the darkened lounge, its pale-faced patrons, and the Elders waiting beyond the emerald door.
“Why did we walk so far just to get here?” she asked, slightly out of breath. “Last time, we came directly into the lounge.”
Azure gave her a brief, knowing smile.
“We are permitted to use the magick word only when the Elders are present.”
Jessica understood. The word had not merely opened a passage during her first visit. It had carried them past the ordinary passages entirely.
Some of the tension eased from her shoulders.
The Elders were not here.
At least, she desperately hoped they were not.
“You will understand why we came soon enough,” Azure said, holding the door open for her.
Jessica studied his face for any hint of what lay beyond the room. His expression revealed nothing.
She drew a steadying breath, then stepped inside.
The lounge looked completely different in the morning.
Bright light filled the room, stripping away much of the menace she remembered from her first visit. The round tables stood bare, their black coverings removed, and the neatly arranged chairs were vacant. Without the pale figures who had occupied them, the room seemed less like a secret gathering place and more like an abandoned theater awaiting its audience.
The scents of suede, spices, and burned sage lingered in the still air.
Jessica glanced toward the bar, now empty.
At nine in the morning, she supposed the silence should not have surprised her. Still, something about the vacant tables made the room feel as if it were holding its breath.
Their footsteps echoed on the wooden floor as Azure led her toward the emerald door.
A hulking figure waited beside it.
The Gargroll stood nearly motionless in the shadows. His broad stone frame seemed carved into the wall itself, though his eyes gleamed with recognition as Azure approached.
“Morning, my lord.”
His voice rolled through the empty lounge like stone grinding on stone.
“Morning, William,” Azure replied with a curt nod.
A warmer shade spread across Gargroll’s gray cheeks.
Jessica stared. She had not known that stone could blush.
William lowered his gaze, clearly pleased. She suspected few people ever addressed him by name.
He opened the emerald door and stepped aside, a restrained smile lingering on his heavy features.
Jessica passed him, but the unease she had carried into the room lingered. William’s familiarity with Azure, the empty lounge, and the secrecy surrounding their destination all suggested that someone had planned this.
Something everyone seemed to know except her.
The door closed behind them.
Its final click echoed down the corridor.
Aged wood, candle wax, and dried herbs scented the cold air. Tapestries lined the stone walls, their edges stirring in a persistent draft. For an instant, Jessica imagined whispers drifting through the woven scenes, following her as she walked.
Azure pressed ahead, his footsteps measured and certain.
The deeper they traveled, the colder the corridor grew. Jessica tightened her coat around herself, watching their surroundings for any sign of where he was leading her.
Then she heard leaves rustle.
She slowed.
The stone walls were changing.
Their hard surfaces softened beneath spreading vines. Emerald tendrils crept across the masonry, curling around the tapestries and arching overhead. Small flowers unfurled among the leaves, releasing traces of jasmine and citrus.
The polished floor vanished beneath a carpet of luminous moss.
Jessica stepped carefully onto it. The green surface gave beneath her shoes, softening each footfall. Somewhere beyond the vines, water trickled steadily, though she could not see its source.
Within a few paces, the corridor no longer resembled anything beneath Grand Central Station.
It had become a living passage.
Leaves shifted as Azure passed, bending toward him as if recognizing his presence. Jessica trailed her fingers along one of the vines. Its surface was cool and velvety, but beneath it, she felt a faint, rhythmic movement.
Almost like a pulse.
She quickly withdrew her hand.
At the end of the passage stood a white door.
It appeared unnaturally pristine amid the dense greenery, untouched by soil, vines, or age. A meticulously carved lizard covered its surface, each scale rendered with remarkable precision.
Jessica approached it cautiously.
The creature’s jeweled eyes caught the ambient light and seemed to follow her.
She had seen that sigil before.
Azure rested his hand on the ornate brass handle. The metal glowed warmly beneath his fingers, though the door itself radiated a quiet chill.
He looked back at her.
Mischief shimmered in his eyes.
“Azure,” she began.
He opened the door.
Cold air swept through the passage, carrying the scents of pine, damp earth, and distant rain.
Beyond the threshold lay a forest beneath a violet-and-indigo sky.
Jessica’s breath caught.
She remembered those colors. They were the same impossible shades she had seen at the banquet where Azure introduced her to the Elders.
But there was no stone chamber beyond the door.
There were no walls.
Azure stepped through, and Jessica followed him onto a bed of luminous moss. The doorway remained behind them, standing impossibly upright amid the trees.
The forest hummed with quiet life. Unseen creatures called to one another in the twilight, their melodic chirps drifting through the branches. Leaves whispered overhead, though Jessica felt no wind.
Then she saw the tree.
An enormous oak rose before them, wider than the columns inside Grand Central and tall enough that its uppermost branches vanished into the violet sky. Its ancient bark shimmered with an iridescent glow, veins of light creeping through the trunk like magick beneath living skin.
Jessica stood motionless beneath it.
The tree did not merely seem alive.
It appeared aware.
Jessica stared into the ethereal landscape.
A winding path emerged from between the oak’s twisted roots, as if the tree itself had pushed it through the forest floor. Glowing orbs hovered above it, casting a warm amber light that flickered like distant candle flames. They drifted through the air, swaying despite the absence of any noticeable breeze.
The path appeared inviting.
The silence surrounding it did not.
Jessica placed one foot on the ground. Leaves crunched beneath her shoe, reassuringly ordinary in a place where almost nothing else seemed to be.
Azure moved forward without hesitation.
Jessica was about to follow when movement near the oak tree caught her attention.
Someone was peering around the massive tree trunk.
Jessica’s uncertainty gave way to recognition.
Katica stepped into view.
The Elder of the Azovka bloodline still looked like a teenage girl, though nothing youthful softened the intelligence in her blue eyes. She wore a long green sarafan over a pale linen shirt, the dress gathered at her waist with a slender gold belt. A green ribbon threaded through her braid.
The kichka she wore at their first meeting was missing, making her look less ceremonial and, somehow, more at home.
Katica smiled.
Jessica glanced at Azure, but he seemed unsurprised to see her there.
Of course he was.
“What is she doing here?” Jessica whispered.
Azure’s smile deepened, though he offered no answer.
Katica moved around the oak, then beckoned them forward.
As Azure and Jessica approached, the ground stirred beneath their feet. Tiny flowers pushed through the moss wherever they stepped, unfurling in delicate bursts of color before settling into the forest floor.
Jessica looked behind her.
A trail of blossoms marked their path.
Katica disappeared around the far side of the tree.
“Come,” she called, her voice drifting gently through the branches.
Azure followed.
Beyond the oak, the path curved deeper into the forest. Ancient trees rose on either side, their branches interlocking high above. Something moved among the shadows—too large to be a deer, too graceful to be human—before Jessica could focus on it.
Leaves rustled overhead.
The sound resembled whispered voices speaking a language older than memory.
Katica stopped a few paces ahead and turned to face them.
“Welcome to Lukomorye.”
Her Hungarian accent softened the name, giving it the cadence of something remembered from childhood.
Jessica looked around again.
“Lukomorye,” she repeated.
“My home,” Katica said. “And one of the few places where magick has never learned to hide.”
As if answering her, the amber orbs brightened.
The forest gradually opened before them. Bioluminescent mushrooms clustered around the roots of towering trees, bathing the path in shades of blue and green. Somewhere in the distance, a creature let out a long, melodic call, and another answered from deeper in the woods.
Jessica followed Azure, unable to decide where to look first.
A broad stream wound between the trees, its clear water mirroring the violet sky. For an instant, something pale and shimmering broke the surface. Silvery laughter, light and musical, followed before it disappeared downstream.
Jessica stopped.
“Was that—”
“A rusalka,” Katica said without turning. “Do not wander too close to the water.”
She delivered the warning pleasantly.
That made it no less serious.
Jessica moved closer to Azure.
Wonder still swelled within her, but caution now accompanied it.
Ahead, Azure and Katica whispered to one another. Their voices were too low for Jessica to make out the words. Occasionally, a spark of magick passed between them, briefly illuminating their faces in flashes of violet and gold.
Jessica watched them from a few steps behind.
Whatever awaited them in Lukomorye, they already knew.
Azure glanced back at her, his eyes shimmering with an inner light.
“We are almost there.”
Almost where?
Jessica followed them deeper into the forest, her anticipation sharpening with each step. Neither Azure nor Katica had explained, and their secrecy only made her more curious.
The air grew noticeably warmer. Beneath the visitors' feet, the moss glowed brighter, casting a soft golden light along the path until the trees opened into a wide clearing.
A long stone table awaited them.
Intricately carved wooden plates sat at every place setting, each painted with delicate blue flowers. Modern silverware gleamed beside polished wooden goblets, while two black wrought-iron candelabras stood at opposite ends of the table. Each held five unlit white candles.
Three large wooden bowls sat at the center.
The first held chicken paprikash, its tender pieces submerged in a rich, paprika-infused gravy. Beside it rested a bowl of egg noodles, still glistening with butter and carrying a faint scent of garlic. The third held an assortment of lángos, their crisp, golden surfaces giving way at the edges to soft, airy centers.
The mingled aromas of paprika, warm bread, and freshly polished wood filled the clearing. The meal looked welcoming, almost celebratory.
Yet the empty chairs suggested they were not the only guests expected to arrive.
Katica pulled out one of the chairs near the head of the table and motioned for Azure and Jessica to sit beside her. Azure took the seat closest to Katica, and Jessica settled beside him. Across from them, several chairs remained empty.
Katica waited until they were seated.
Then she clapped her hands.
An odd whirling sound erupted overhead.
Jessica looked up as something unseen swept over the clearing. A sharp clack followed, like wooden gears locking into place, and the sky around her began to darken.
One by one, the candles were lit.
Their flames remained perfectly still despite the sudden shift in the air.
The whirling sound passed over the table and disappeared behind a dense stand of trees on the opposite side of the clearing.
Silence returned.
Then came the rustling.
Branches shifted beyond the candlelight. Footsteps pressed through the undergrowth, slow and deliberate, growing louder with each passing second.
Jessica stayed still.
Katica appeared completely unconcerned. So did Azure.
Whatever was approaching, they had anticipated it.
But as the footsteps drew nearer, something unsettling seemed to enter the clearing ahead of them—a presence that thickened the warm air and made each breath harder than the last.
Katica rose from her chair.
An elderly woman stepped out of the darkness beyond the trees.
She appeared grandmotherly at first glance—small, stooped, and wrapped in clothing too large for her narrow frame—but the forest responded to her as though something far greater had entered the clearing.
Shadows clung to the hem of her sarafan, stretching behind her like reluctant servants. They whispered among themselves in low, despairing voices until the woman lifted a trembling hand.
With a careless wave, she dismissed them.
The shadows melted into the night.
Her sarafan bore a deep red-and-green pattern, its heavy fabric brushing the moss as she approached. A red scarf bound her stringy white hair, framing a deeply lined face and dark, watchful eyes.
An enormous wooden mortar stood beside her.
It stood nearly as high as her waist, yet she did not seem to carry or push it. The vessel glided along the forest floor at her side, its rounded base crushing neither moss nor flowers. A long pestle rocked inside it, clicking steadily against the rim.
Clack.
Clack.
Clack.
The sound grew louder as she approached until Jessica felt its rhythm in her chest.
Cardamom and the scent of burning wood followed in the old woman’s wake.
The forest fell silent.
Leaves stopped rustling overhead. The distant cries of unseen creatures faded. Even the candle flames seemed to shrink as the woman entered the clearing.
Her gaze passed over Katica and Azure before settling on Jessica.
Jessica’s breath caught.
She knew that face.
Not because they had met, but because nearly every childhood warning about the dark places of the world seemed to have drawn on it.
The iron teeth were missing. So was the hooked nose depicted in storybooks. Yet Jessica knew exactly who had arrived.
Baba Yaga.
The witch of the ancient forest.
The devourer of disobedient children.
Or their savior, depending on which story one believed.
Baba Yaga’s lips twitched as though she had heard every thought.
Jessica looked away.
The witch reached the table and stopped before the chair directly across from Katica. One empty place remained between her and Jessica.
The mortar settled beside her.
The pestle became still.
Katica bowed her head.
“You honor my table, Baba Yaga.”
The respect in her voice unsettled Jessica almost as much as the witch herself. Katica was an Elder, one of the most powerful beings Jessica had ever encountered, yet even she seemed cautious in Baba Yaga’s presence.
Baba Yaga settled into the chair.
The movement was smooth and effortless, betraying none of the frailty her age suggested. Her dark eyes flicked toward Jessica once more and lingered.
A cold sensation spread across Jessica’s skin, like invisible fingers tracing her arm.
She resisted the urge to pull away.
Katica returned to her seat.
“Se nam bosta tvoji sestri pridružili na večerji?” she asked, gesturing toward the empty places at her right.
Would your sisters be joining them for dinner?
Baba Yaga smiled slowly.
She let the question hang unanswered as the candles flickered around her. Their shifting light deepened every crease in her face until the lines looked like symbols carved into ancient stone.
The air thickened.
Jessica felt pressure building behind her ears. The goblets trembled on the table, and somewhere beneath them, the earth let out a low groan.
Then Baba Yaga hummed.
The sound was quiet, almost tender.
At once, the pressure vanished. The goblets stilled, and the forest released the breath it had been holding.
“Moje sestry sa k nám nepridajú,” she answered, saying that her sisters would not be joining.
Her voice was low and melodic, warmer than Jessica had anticipated.
Baba Yaga turned her attention to the bowls of food, pulled the mortar closer, and reached inside.
Her arm disappeared almost to the shoulder.
Jessica leaned slightly forward.
Baba Yaga withdrew a bottle of red wine.
Cold moisture beaded across the dark glass, even though it had come from an empty wooden vessel in the middle of a warm forest. The witch removed the cork with her teeth and filled her goblet.
The sweet, acidic scent of the wine filled the air as it swirled, nearly black, in the candlelight.
She drank deeply, then wiped her mouth with her sleeve, leaving a dark red stain.
Jessica glanced at Azure.
He appeared completely unsurprised.
Of course he did.
Baba Yaga set her goblet down and studied them both. Her gaze shifted from Azure to Jessica, then to their joined hands beneath the table.
She addressed Katica in the same unfamiliar language, her voice carrying finality.
Katica’s eyebrows lifted.
“What did she say?” Jessica asked.
Azure remained silent.
Baba Yaga turned toward her.
The witch’s eyes glimmered with something Jessica could not identify—amusement, perhaps, or recognition.
“I said,” Baba Yaga answered in heavily accented English, each word rounded by her Slavic tongue, “de Creed Elder and de mortal girl—they belong togedder.”
Jessica’s heart stumbled.
Baba Yaga reached for her wine again.
Katica’s expression brightened. The faint worry lines around her eyes softened as she looked across the table.
“Let us eat before everything grows cold.”
She drew the bowls closer and began serving. Chicken paprikash covered one side of each painted wooden plate, its deep-red gravy steaming in the candlelight. Beside it, she added a generous portion of buttered noodles, then passed around the warm lángos.
The fragrances of paprika, garlic, and freshly fried bread wafted around the table.
Jessica had only just reached for her fork when Katica arrived at Baba Yaga’s.
The witch lifted one hand.
Katica stopped.
The ladle hung suspended above Baba Yaga’s plate, a single drop of gravy trembling at its edge.
Baba Yaga did not look at the food.
She looked at Jessica.
Her stare carried such weight that Jessica instinctively straightened in her chair. For several silent seconds, neither the witch nor Katica stirred.
Then Katica gave the tiniest nod.
Whatever had passed between them needed no words.
Baba Yaga lowered her hand.
Katica finished serving her, returned to her chair, and set the bowl in the center of the table.
The silence lingered.
“Baba Yaga has brought you something, Jessica,” Katica said.
Jessica’s fingers tightened around her fork.
“For me?”
The words had barely left her mouth when warmth brushed her cheek.
She turned.
Baba Yaga stood beside her.
Jessica recoiled slightly.
The witch had been seated several places away only an instant earlier. Jessica had neither heard the chair move nor seen her cross the distance between them.
Azure stiffened beside her.
His attention fixed on Baba Yaga’s hands, and the faint glow in his eyes sharpened. Katica watched with a calmer expression, though anticipation had replaced the concern on her face.
Baba Yaga held out both hands toward Jessica.
“Open,” she instructed.
The single word emerged under the full weight of her Slavic accent.
Jessica looked to Azure.
He did not stop her, but the tension in his jaw offered little comfort.
Slowly, she turned her palms up.
Baba Yaga put something into them.
The weight struck without warning.
Jessica gasped as her hands fell toward the table. For a startled moment, she thought the witch had given her a stone disguised as fruit.
Instead, a deep carmine apple rested in her hands.
It was no larger than an ordinary apple, yet it weighed as if forged rather than grown. Its skin was smooth and bitterly cold, shining in the candlelight with an almost wet brilliance.
A sweet fragrance rose from it, edged with the faint metallic scent of blood.
Jessica stared.
Baba Yaga curled her fingers around the fruit. The witch’s hands were cold and unyielding, yet her grip was surprisingly strong.
“Hold tight,” she murmured.
Her smile revealed nothing.
She then released Jessica and returned to her chair.
This time, Jessica watched closely.
Baba Yaga did not walk. One moment she stood beside her; the next, she was seated again, lifting her goblet as if she had never moved.
A faint crackle came from Jessica’s hands.
She looked down.
The apple’s red skin had begun to disintegrate.
Carmine dust lifted from the fruit in delicate streams, drifting between her fingers before dissolving into the air. Beneath the crumbling outer layer, something luminous emerged.
Gold.
Jessica slowly uncurled her hands.
A golden apple now rested in her palms, its polished skin casting a warm glow across her fingers. Fine markings shifted beneath its surface—symbols forming, dissolving, and reforming as though written by an invisible hand.
The apple pulsed once.
A soft beat of light.
Then again.
Jessica felt the second pulse travel through her arms and settle in her chest.
She looked at Azure.
All color had drained from his face.
Katica, however, was smiling.
At the far end of the table, Baba Yaga raised her glass of wine and watched Jessica as Jessica set the golden apple beside her plate.
Candlelight moved across its polished surface, catching on the faint symbols beneath its skin. They formed and dissolved in a silent language Jessica could not understand.
The meal began.
For a time, the food's warmth softened the strangeness around them. The chicken paprikash was rich and comforting, its gravy soaking into the buttered noodles and torn pieces of lángos. Conversation stayed light, though Jessica noticed Azure and Katica exchanging the occasional knowing glance.
Baba Yaga drank more than she ate.
Every so often, Jessica looked toward the apple.
It stayed exactly where she had placed it, quietly glowing beside her plate.
When only one piece of lángos remained, Azure reached for it. His hand froze above the bowl when he noticed Jessica staring at the apple again.
“Would you like the last one?”
Jessica blinked, then returned her attention to him.
“No. I couldn’t eat another bite.”
Azure offered it to Katica.
She smiled and shook her head.
He finally held it toward Baba Yaga.
The witch waved it away.
“Fried bread,” she muttered in heavily accented English. “Too much oil. Bread should come from de oven, not drown in de pot.”
Katica pressed her lips together, hiding a smile.
Azure put the lángos back into the bowl.
Jessica’s attention returned almost immediately to the golden apple. She reached for it and brushed a fingertip across its surface.
A sharp tingling shot up her arm.
She pulled her hand away.
Azure leaned closer.
“Quite a gift, isn’t it?”
“I’ve never seen anything like it.” Jessica lowered her voice. “Do you know what it does?”
Before Azure could respond, Katica leaned forward.
“Golden apples are very rare,” she said, her Hungarian accent softening her words. “They preserve youth and grant years beyond mortal life.”
Jessica stared at her.
“Eternal life?”
Katica glanced toward Baba Yaga.
The witch chuckled into her goblet.
“Loki mi je podaril zlata jabolka, ki jih je vzel Iduni,” she said.
Jessica looked between them.
Katica translated. “She says Loki gave her golden apples he took from Idun.”
Baba Yaga frowned at her.
“I did not say for you to tell de whole story.”
“You said it in Slovenian,” Katica replied. “Jessica does not speak Slovenian.”
“Not my fault.”
Jessica looked down at the apple.
“So this could make me immortal?”
“Immortal?” Baba Yaga repeated.
The witch considered the word, rolling it over her tongue as though testing its flavor.
“No.”
Jessica’s hope faltered.
Baba Yaga leaned toward her.
“Nothing lives forever.”
The candles flickered.
“But apple vill give you years,” she continued. “Many years. Enough to remain beside him.”
Her dark eyes turned toward Azure.
Jessica followed her gaze.
Azure had grown very still.
Beneath the table, his hand found hers.
Baba Yaga lifted her goblet of wine again.
“Fate tied mortal girl to Creed Elder. You share his heart...” Her eyes narrowed knowingly. “Now you may share his time.”
Warmth spread across Jessica’s face.
Katica let out a small sound of protest.
“Baba Yaga.”
The witch shrugged.
“He takes too long.”
Azure let out a slow breath.
Then he rose from his chair.
Jessica looked up at him.
“Azure?”
He stepped away from the table and reached into his coat. For the first time since Jessica had known him, his usually measured movements seemed uncertain.
When he turned back, a ring lay between his fingers.
Jessica stopped breathing.
Azure lowered himself to one knee.
The clearing vanished around her.
The ancient forest, the glowing moss, the watchful witch, and even the golden apple faded from Jessica’s awareness until only Azure remained before her.
His eyes gleamed with unshed tears.
“Destiny brought you into my life when I believed I already knew the course my life would take,” he said. “You changed that future. You changed me.”
Jessica covered her mouth with one hand.
Azure’s voice trembled, yet he did not look away.
“I cannot imagine another morning, another night, or any of the years ahead without you beside me. Whatever the Fates grant us, I want to share it all with you.”
He lifted the ring.
“Jessica Harrison, will you marry me?”
Her heart pounded hard against her chest.
The apple glowed beside her plate, carrying the promise of years she had never imagined having. But as Jessica looked into Azure’s eyes, eternity no longer seemed like the most important promise before her.
He was.
“Yes.”
The answer escaped in a breath.
Then she laughed through her tears.
“Yes, Azure. Of course I’ll marry you.”
Relief spread across his face.
His trembling ceased as he slipped the ring onto her finger.
Jessica left her chair and lowered herself before him. She wrapped both arms around his shoulders, holding him as tightly as she could.
Azure buried his face in her neck.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you too.”
Katica sprang from her chair and clapped.
“I love...love!”
Jessica laughed into Azure’s shoulder.
Katica turned toward the witch.
“Baba Yaga, you nearly spoiled the surprise.”
She repeated the complaint in Slovene.
Baba Yaga took another unhurried sip.
“I have places to be,” she replied in her heavily accented English. “Creed Elder was taking too long.”
Katica shook her head, though she still smiled.
Baba Yaga’s amusement faded.
She looked past Katica toward Azure and Jessica, who remained wrapped in each other’s arms.
Then she spoke again.
“Ta zveza bo obrodila sad neizmerne moči. Videla boš. Ta starka je videla, kaj prihaja... in veličastno bo.”
Katica’s smile weakened.
Jessica lifted her head from Azure’s shoulder.
“What did she say?”
Katica did not answer immediately.
Baba Yaga did.
“Dis union vill bear fruit of immeasurable power.”
Her eyes settled on Jessica’s stomach.
A chill ran through her despite Azure’s warmth.
“You vill see,” Baba Yaga continued. “Dis old voman has seen vat comes.”
The golden apple pulsed on the table.
Once.
Twice.
Baba Yaga smiled.
“And it vill be glorious.”
She gripped the rim of her mortar.
The forest changed.
Shadows stretched from beneath the trees, winding across the moss toward her. The night creatures fell silent as a sudden wind swept through the clearing, tearing leaves from the branches overhead.
The candle flames bent toward Baba Yaga.
Then all ten were extinguished at once.
Darkness swallowed the table.
Jessica held Azure more tightly.
Within the blackness, Baba Yaga began to hum. The low melody passed through the earth, making the plates and goblets tremble. Trees groaned as their branches lowered toward her, bowing under the force gathering in the clearing.
The mortar rose from the ground.
Baba Yaga ascended with it, her red scarf snapping in the wind. Shadows spiraled around her, coalescing into a dark column that climbed toward the violet sky.
Her laughter followed—not cruel, but ancient and wild, the sound of something that had never submitted to mortal rules.
Then she vanished.
The wind died.
The shadows retreated.
One by one, the candles reignited.
Baba Yaga’s chair stood empty.
For several moments, no one spoke.
Jessica and Azure remained on their knees beside the table, still holding each other.
Then Jessica looked at the ring on her finger.
The golden apple glowed beyond it.
Joy swelled inside her, immense and almost unbearable, yet Baba Yaga’s final words lingered in the clearing like smoke from extinguished candles.
This union would bear fruit.
Jessica did not yet understand what the witch had seen.
She only knew Azure was still holding her.
For now, that was enough.
“How vould you both like to be married today?” Katica asked, rising from her chair and pressing both palms to the stone table. Her smile widened with barely contained excitement.
Azure and Jessica turned toward each other, their hands still clasped.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Jessica laughed and looked back at Katica.
“Let’s do it!”
A wedding was about to take place in the enchanted realm of Lukomorye.
Beneath the sprawling canopy of the ancient oak at the forest’s entrance, excitement rippled through the gathered guests. The scent of blooming jasmine mingled with the rich, earthy scent of moss, while a faint current of magick hummed through the clearing.
Known as the Guardian of Dreams, the venerable oak had stood sentinel for millennia, its massive trunk bearing the marks of countless ages. Today, it would witness a new story—the union of Azure Creed and Jessica Harrison.
The ground beneath the tree formed a natural amphitheater. Its curling roots created steps and seating for guests gathered from across Lukomorye.
Elves with hair like spun silver sat beside dwarves adorned with intricate gold filigree, their heavy cloaks rustling with each movement. Fairies fluttered overhead, their wings sparkling in the dappled light. Nearby, merfolk rested in shallow pools, their scales glinting with the colors of the sea.
Natural musks, floral perfumes, spices, and saltwater mingled in the crisp air. Together, the gathered beings imbued the occasion with wonder and significance.
As the sun descended, casting a warm golden glow over the land, Jessica emerged from the forest with Katica.
Her gown seemed woven from threads of moonlight and starlight. The fabric flowed around her as a whisper, and delicate flowers glowed amid the waves of her golden hair. Lavender and roses scented the air as she walked.
Her deep blue eyes gleamed with joy and anticipation beneath the veil.
Katica offered her arm and guided Jessica down the aisle, each step accompanied by the soft rustle of leaves beneath their feet.
Azure waited beneath the ancient oak.
He wore his black suit with a deep green bow tie and a cloak embroidered with symbols of the Elder Azovka lineage, a gift from Katica. A faint scent of pine and cedar clung to the fabric.
A soft elemental song rose from the tree spirits. Their haunting voices drifted through the branches, resonating across the clearing.
Then Azure saw Jessica.
His breath caught.
The guests, the music, and the enchanted forest seemed to fade as she approached. For that moment, she was all he could see.
“This is amazing,” Jessica whispered behind her veil. “Everything is so beautiful.”
Katica tightened her arm around Jessica’s, her touch warm and reassuring.
“I’m so happy to be a part of dis,” she whispered.
As they approached the altar, Jessica’s heart pounded with every step.
Katica gently released her arm and guided her toward Azure, who waited with a radiant smile. The murmur of the guests, the rustling leaves overhead, and the distant call of a night bird faded as Jessica focused on the man standing before her.
Katica stepped aside, taking her place behind the bride.
The officiant stood between Jessica and Azure.
The wise old druid carried himself with commanding serenity. In one hand, he held a staff carved from the wood of the Guardian of Dreams, its surface weathered by age and ancient power.
When he spoke, his deep voice filled the amphitheater.
“Today, we gather to celebrate the union of two souls,” he began. “In this sacred place, under the Guardian of Dreams’ watchful gaze, we witness the joining of hearts, the binding of lives, and the birth of a new story in the land of Lukomorye.”
The bride and groom exchanged vows, their voices quiet yet filled with conviction. Each word promised love, hope, and a shared future.
Azure held Jessica’s hands as he began. His voice stayed steady, though deep emotion moved beneath every word.
“In your eyes, I see my future. In your smile, I find my happiness. Today, I vow to love you with a love that is pure, steadfast, and unwavering. I promise to hold your hand through every joy and every sorrow, to be your strength and sanctuary. Together, we are unstoppable, and I cannot wait to see what our future holds.”
His eyes shimmered with tears he couldn't hold back.
Jessica tightened her grip on his hand, drawing comfort from its warmth.
She then reached behind her bouquet and withdrew a folded piece of paper. Her cheeks flushed as she opened it, and her hands trembled enough to make the page crinkle softly.
“In your arms, I have found my home. In your eyes, I have found compassion. In your heart, I have found love. In your soul, I have found a kindred spirit.”
Her voice caught.
“You are my everything.”
Jessica paused as emotion threatened to overwhelm her. She looked up from the page to find Azure’s hazel-green eyes waiting for her.
He gave her an encouraging smile.
The simple gesture steadied her.
“I promise faithfulness and patience, respect and lightheartedness, attentiveness and self-improvement. I will celebrate your triumphs and love you even more for your failures.”
A playful glimmer lit her eyes. She glanced toward the gathered guests.
“Not that you will have any failures while I am around.”
Laughter drifted through the clearing.
Azure chuckled, shaking his head fondly.
Jessica returned her attention to him, her nervousness yielding to certainty.
“I vow to you from this moment forward that you will never have to face the world alone.”
She lowered the paper.
The sincerity of the promise remained between them, solemn yet filled with joy.
A pair of white doves descended through the glowing branches. Their wings fluttered softly as they alighted on the druid’s outstretched hands, each bearing a ring.
Azure lifted Jessica’s wedding band off.
He took her left hand and carefully slid it onto her finger beside the engagement ring. The metal warmed against her skin as he held her hand for a moment longer.
Jessica accepted the second ring from the druid.
Her fingers still trembled as she slid it onto Azure’s hand. The gesture was simple, yet it carried the full weight of all they had promised one another.
Once the rings were in place, the druid raised his staff.
The ancient wood hummed as the setting sun's light slid across its surface.
The gathered guests rose in celebration.
A joyful cheer swept through the clearing.
Flowers burst into bloom around the Guardian of Dreams, their petals unfurling in waves of color. A breeze lifted them into the air, sending them cascading over Azure and Jessica.
Azure drew his bride to him.
Jessica lifted her face toward his.
Beneath the falling petals, they shared their first kiss as husband and wife.
Without warning, Baba Yaga’s final words crept back into Katica’s mind like poison lingering.
Dis union vill bear fruit of immeasurable power.
The witch’s voice seemed to whisper directly into her ear.
And it vill be glorious.
The sunlight vanished.
Darkness swept across the clearing, casting a sudden shadow over the revelers. Katica stumbled back several steps as pressure surged behind her eyes. Her hand rose instinctively to her temple.
Around her, the cheerful voices of the guests began to fade away.
Laughter became murmuring.
Murmuring gave way to silence.
A cold wind moved through the meadow, carrying the scent of dying flowers and the sharp tang of ozone. The petals that had fallen around Azure and Jessica withered on the ground, their vibrant colors paling before crumbling to ash.
Katica’s heart pounded as she scanned the horizon.
Dark clouds churned across the sky where none had been moments earlier. Thunder rolled through Lukomorye, deep enough to make the earth tremble beneath her feet.
She turned toward Azure and Jessica.
Their joy had vanished. They stood together beneath the Guardian of Dreams, their faces clouded with confusion as the storm gathered around them.
Then Katica saw the figure.
A towering silhouette appeared at the edge of the forest.
Its presence pressed against the clearing, oppressive and suffocating. The gathered guests drew closer, their frightened whispers trembling through the darkness.
Katica struggled to breathe.
Baba Yaga’s prophecy continued to echo in her.
The figure advanced.
With each step, its shape grew clearer, though darkness still clung to it like a cloak. Two unnatural eyes burned through the gloom, fixed on Azure and Jessica.
Katica felt the terrible certainty of recognition without understanding what she recognized.
This darkness had come about because of them.
Or because of the magick their union had awakened.
The thought struck her so forcefully that she squeezed her eyes shut. She pressed both hands against her temples, trying to silence the thunder and the witch’s voice.
Then everything stopped.
Katica opened her eyes.
Sunlight filtered through the branches of the Guardian of Dreams. Flowers bloomed throughout the clearing, untouched and vibrant. Laughter and music once again surrounded her.
No storm darkened the sky.
No towering figure stood beyond the trees.
Azure and Jessica were still greeting their guests, radiant with joy.
Katica remained beside the oak, struggling to steady her breathing.
Azure noticed.
His smile faded as he studied her from across the clearing.
Katica forced a reassuring expression and waved away his concern. The gesture insisted it was nothing.
But she stepped closer to the ancient tree and rested one hand against its trunk, finding comfort in its familiar strength.
Her gaze returned to Azure.
What darkness followed him?
Katica tried to dismiss the vision, but Baba Yaga’s prophecy remained lodged in her mind.
Her attention shifted to Jessica.
Could the mortal woman be the catalyst for what was to come?