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Before Fleur and Lenora, there were Iris and Dagmar–sisters with a bond to Evirdahl they didn’t understand. An unpublished bundle of stories written to help me shape and understand the complexity of the world I was building. Enjoy!

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They hiked through rows of apple and plum trees, their sweet fragrance wafting around the four of them as they inched closer to the Henge. Gravel crunched beneath the thick soles of her new boots. Dagmar reached back, touching the metal hilt of the axe strapped to her back, its leather sheath sewn into her satchel. Her fingers gripped the end, comforting her like a well worn stuffed bear. Before they left, Greta handed them a set of small vials and herb pouches, “Healing poultices,” she said, “Just in case.”

Dagmar stuffed hers into her bag beside the waxy cloth filled with jerky and the leather canteen. The satchel was larger than she originally thought, a pocket, lining the back, separated her rations from the extra blue tunics, a jar of toothpaste and a bar of soap—Dagmar cringed, thinking of the awkward bathing rituals she would have to endure, but pushed it aside, her need for bubbles in her bath was nothing compared to the task at hand.

The trail lead through the orchard to the northernmost end of Twee Farm at the rim of the Dwelling forest. The sky was pitch black, only a few stars glimmered above. Maisie moved confidently through the fields, leading them to the entrance of the thick and menacing trees—Dagmar paused, they stood near the edge of the orchard, the same place she and Iris walked to that first night. Dagmar shuddered. She was a fool then, thinking this would all be over quickly.

A deep and primal longing for her home filled her heart, rising in her throat. Dagmar paused, unsure how to swallow it down. Would she ever see Max again? What about the Café? What about their little bungalow or the rugby matches her father loved? Were they all gone?

“What is it?” Duncan asked as he moved to stand beside her, Iris and Maisie continuing up the path, inching closer to the trees.

Dagmar sniffed, adjusting the straps of her satchel, “Nothing, come on.” She willed her feet to move away from him—his kindness hidden under a coat of betrayal. Her eyes focusing on the darkness ahead.

Dimly, she wondered what Maisie and Greta would tell Ingrid in a few hours when she emerged from her stupor to find an empty breakfast table. Not that it mattered, Dagmar fumed—Ingrid played them. She deserved what she got.

They picked their way through the low-hanging boughs of laurel trees, tripping over the gnarled and moss covered roots until they reached a small opening. Navigating the Dwelling Forest was much easier with Maisie as their guide.

The Orchard Henge was smaller than Dagmar expected. It emerged, half buried from the forest—seven tall stones, equidistant from each other, their once sharp edges worn and crumbling, their bases hidden in the tall grass. Maisie moved to the tallest stone at the center and placed her hand over the ancient symbols etched onto its surface, chanting softly.

Duncan followed her into the center, zipping up his black jacket as he went. His bow slung over his shoulder beside a satchel identical to her own and an overfilled quiver. Greta thought of everything.

Iris moved towards her. She grabbed Dagmar’s hand and squeezed, “Are we sure about this?” She whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

“I haven’t been sure about anything since we got here,” Dagmar muttered, “But yes, our father is counting on us.”

Iris nodded, and the two of them shuffled slowly into the center of the Henge.

The ground rumbled.

Maisie moved away from the monolith and nodded. “Its time.”

“What do we do?” Iris asked, steadying herself as the earth unleashed another shudder.

“Just wait, the Veil will open soon,” Maisie nodded to the center of the henge, “Be brave, girls—trust each other. You will succeed, I can feel it,” she wiped the sleeve of her sweater over her eyes and smiled softly at them, “Now, go.”

Light. The sky exploded into a kaleidoscope of stars, each one tumbling over the next in their haste to reach the ground. Thunder cracked above them as the Veil of stars parted, revealing a lush field, bright with sunshine.

Duncan grinned, the hard obsidian angles of his face relaxing. This was his home. He inched closer to the starlight curtain, pulling his bow forward and arming it, before disappearing on the other side.

Iris squeezed her hand before unsheathing her dagger. Her steps growing with confidence as she neared the Veil. She looked back, starlight turning her golden hair silver, and smiled. Dagmar’s heart swelled, and a sob clogged her throat as Iris stepped through.

This was it.

Dagmar looked back to Maisie, nodding curtly at the wavering Veil, and without a second thought, she took off—racing into the light, through the glimmering stars as the Veil snapped shut behind her.