A blinding flash of light swallowed everything.
I blinked hard.
Then suddenly, I was no longer in that golden hall. I was back in my bedroom, sprawled across the floor like someone had drop-kicked me out of a dream and into reality. My pen and notebook had been tossed aside, pages fluttering like they were gasping for air. The sketch of the golden hall was still there, bold and strange, the ink now smeared slightly as if reality had tried to erase it.
I sat up slowly, my head buzzing like a dying fly. My pajamas were soaked with sweat clinging to me like regrets. I dragged myself up, peeled them off, and changed into something drier before heading downstairs.
And that's when I smelled it.
Waffles.
Warm, golden, slightly crispy exactly how I liked them. And not just that.
Hot chocolate. A full mug of it.
They knew I loved loved loved hot chocolate. I mean, if I could drink it instead of water, I would. But thanks to Mom's "low sugar" policy, it was a rare blessing. So a mug? A whole mug? Something was definitely up.
I stepped into the kitchen and saw them.
My parents. Smiling. Waiting.
"Happy birthday, Lolo!" they shouted in unison.
"What?" I blinked at them, brain still rebooting.
"Well, today isn't exactly your birthday," Mom started gently, "It was actually—"
"YOU FORGOT MY BIRTHDAY?!" I yelled, pointing an accusing finger like I'd just cracked a case on a crime show.
Dad scratched the back of his neck, trying not to laugh. "Well, yesterday you were a bit... you know. Unconscious."
Mom opened the fridge and pulled out a small cake. Chocolate. My favorite. It looked like it had been waiting to be devoured.
"We wanted to surprise you, Leo," she said apologetically. "We had the whole afternoon planned, but we couldn't... you were... out cold. But that shouldn't stop us from devouring this chocolatey beast. And I made you the hot chocolate too."
She held up the mug like it was a peace offering. Or a bribe. Either way, I took it.
I didn't really care much about birthdays but that didn't mean I liked people forgetting mine. Especially my birth-givers. I mean, it's literally in the name: BIRTH-day. Come on.
After the sugar-filled breakfast, the rest of the day rolled on like a lazy Saturday.
I spent it doing the usual:
Sketching flowers.
Plucking my guitar like it owed me money.
Sitting by the lake with my thoughts trailing into the water like skipping stones.
But the weirdness from last night... it wouldn't leave me.
I kept thinking about it—the golden hall, the warmth, the voice, the strange energy. I didn't know if it was a dream, a nightmare, a vision, a hallucination, a manifestation, or any other "-tion" my brain could throw at it. All I knew was:
This wasn't normal.
I was supposed to be the normallest kid in the universe. Things like this didn't happen to random teenagers just trying to survive high school and avoid sports. Still, some small part of me... deep in my chest... knew.
This wasn't just a couple of dreams.
This was something else.
Then I heard it.
A soft rattling behind me.
Not like danger. Like... wind brushing against chimes.
I turned.
And there she was.
A girl.
She stood a few feet away, eyes fixed on me like she'd known me forever and was only just now saying hello. She had hair that wasn't just blond it was golden. Like honey dipped in sunlight, curling in perfect waves down her back and dancing lightly in the breeze. It caught the sunset like fire on water.
Strands escaped her neat hair like they had minds of their own, glowing softly in the evening light. Her skin was pale, but not sickly. Glowing, even. She wore a white flowy blouse tucked into faded jeans. She looked like a piece of summer and starlight had decided to walk around disguised as a teenager.
And her eyes.
Her eyes were bright, ocean-blue, but not the kind you find on a beach towel. They felt... timeless. Ancient. Eyes that had seen entire worlds rise and fall. Looking into them gave me the strange urge to protect her—but also the deep fear that she didn't need protecting.
That she might be the one protecting me.
She looked about my age. Maybe a little younger. A little shorter. But everything about her screamed more.
"Hello," she said, her voice smooth and clear. "I'm Nestis."
Then she added casually, with a tilt of her head,
"You can call me Nesty or Nini. You choose."
Just like that. Like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like she hadn't just appeared out of thin air looking like a golden goddess with galaxies in her eyes.
I blinked at her, trying to say something clever. All that came out was,
"Uh... hi?"