Elara’s hand trembled as she pushed open the heavy oak door. It groaned on ancient hinges, a sound she hadn’t heard in years, swallowed by the muffled silence of her sickroom. A sliver of blinding white light sliced into the gloom, making her wince, her eyes still accustomed to the perpetual twilight of drawn curtains. Each breath felt impossibly shallow.

Then, she stepped out.

The world hit her...

Eleanor had always found solace in Willow Creek Park. It wasn't vast, not like the sprawling national parks, but it held a quiet magic she’d never found anywhere else. Tucked behind the library and a forgotten row of Victorian houses, it was a pocket of wildness in an ever-growing city. Her favorite spot was a gnarled old willow that leaned over the creek, its branches dipping into the slow-moving...

The afternoon sun dappled through the leaves of the old oak, painting shifting patterns on the forest floor as Lily and Sam approached the Wishing Tree. It wasn’t much to look at, just a gnarled, ancient oak with a trunk wide enough to hug a small car, its branches thick with years. But every now and then, a shimmering, almost invisible aura seemed to pulse around it, and that’s when people knew t...