A Flicker in the Dark

Chapter 1

Raven’s Hollow was a town built on whispers. Nestled in a deep, fog-covered valley and surrounded by thick, ancient woods, it seemed at once hidden from and unwelcoming to the outside world. Most days, it was almost as though time stood still there, stretching its quiet, creaking minutes across mornings that drifted into dark and misty evenings. Old wives’ tales and legends ran through Raven’s Hollow like a quiet undercurrent, a comforting reminder of the town’s mysterious roots—until, of course, someone saw something they couldn’t explain. Then the stories became real.

Rowan Sable had lived in Raven’s Hollow all her life, and she knew better than most when something was amiss. She’d inherited her keen perception from her grandmother, a woman whose presence still seemed to linger in the cottage Rowan had grown up in. Her grandmother had been the town’s resident herbalist and, depending on whom you asked, a respected or feared practitioner of folk magic. From her, Rowan had learned about the natural world and, perhaps more importantly, the invisible one—how to look between things, to notice what others missed, and to always stay curious. The woods whispered to her, her grandmother had always said, and it was a phrase that suited Rowan well.

On this particular night, the quiet in her small, cozy cottage felt heavier, like a held breath. She’d been tinkering with an old recipe from her grandmother’s book, a soothing tea to calm restless sleep. It wasn’t unusual for people to knock on her door at odd hours, either to borrow a tincture or to ask her advice on some minor ailment, but tonight felt different. She was in the middle of grinding a mix of dried lavender and valerian root when the knock came, sharp and urgent, cutting through the evening’s silence.

Rowan raised an eyebrow, glancing toward the door. Whoever it was, they hadn’t come for a simple chat. She set down the mortar, her curiosity piqued, and moved to the door with quiet, measured steps. The knock sounded again, louder this time, almost desperate.

When she opened the door, a young man stood on her doorstep, drenched from the steady rain that had been falling all evening. His dark hair clung to his forehead, and his clothes were soaked through, but it was his expression that caught Rowan’s attention. His wide, dark eyes looked at her with a mixture of fear and urgency, as if she was his only hope.

“Are you Rowan Sable?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the pattering rain.

“I am,” she replied, crossing her arms and appraising him with a mixture of curiosity and caution. “And you’re soaked. Come inside before you start dripping in the doorway.”

He nodded, too grateful to mind her brisk tone, and stepped over the threshold, shivering as he entered the warmth of the cottage. Rowan gestured for him to sit down by the fire, which crackled and cast a warm, flickering glow across the room. “You can take off your coat and dry yourself off. I’ll grab a towel.”

As she moved to the linen cupboard, Rowan glanced back at him. He was fidgeting, shifting his weight in the chair as though he wasn’t sure whether to sit or run. When she returned, she handed him a towel and took a seat across from him, waiting as he dried his face and hair.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice barely a murmur as he clutched the towel like a lifeline. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Rowan leaned back, regarding him with an inquisitive, almost playful gaze. “Well, that’s quite the compliment. So, what’s troubling you enough to bring you out here at this hour, soaked to the bone?”

The young man hesitated, as if weighing his words. “My name’s Ethan,” he began, meeting her gaze for a brief moment before glancing away. “I only came to Raven’s Hollow a few days ago… but since I got here, things have been… strange.”

Rowan raised an eyebrow, her interest piqued but her tone light. “Strange how? Cows walking backward, dogs singing in harmony? I assure you, most of us are harmless—at least in the daylight.”

Ethan managed a faint smile, though it quickly faded. “Not quite that kind of strange,” he replied. “More like… shadows moving where there shouldn’t be shadows. Whispers in the dark. And last night… there was someone in my room.”

Rowan’s eyebrows shot up, but she managed to keep her tone calm. “A ghostly intruder, you say? Or just an overenthusiastic innkeeper?”

“No,” Ethan said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “This was something else. I was asleep, and I woke up to… to someone standing at the foot of my bed. I couldn’t see their face, but I could feel them staring at me. And then… they said my name.”

Rowan studied him carefully, trying to gauge the truth in his words. His expression was raw, his fear genuine, and something told her he wasn’t exaggerating. “Did they say anything else?”

“No,” Ethan replied, looking down at his hands. “When I tried to turn on the light, they were just… gone. Like they’d never been there at all.”

Rowan nodded, mentally cataloging the details. “And you’re sure it wasn’t a dream? I only ask because most of the inns around here have little trouble with the supernatural, but I’ve heard plenty of strange stories from newcomers before.”

Ethan shook his head, his eyes darkening. “It wasn’t a dream. I know what I saw.”

Rowan’s gaze softened, though her mind was already racing. She’d encountered her share of restless spirits and strange occurrences, but something about this felt different. “Well,” she said, leaning forward with a spark of mischief in her eye, “lucky for you, ‘dealing with the unusual’ is my specialty. Let’s start with what you have that’s special.”

Ethan’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that usually, people aren’t haunted just for being polite and handsome,” she said, smiling. “There’s always a reason. You didn’t accidentally take anything cursed lately, did you?”

For a moment, Ethan looked taken aback. Then, almost reluctantly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, silver amulet. It was a simple piece, just a thin disc with an intricate, faintly gleaming rune engraved on its surface. Rowan’s eyes widened slightly, but she quickly masked her reaction.

“I got this from my mother before she passed away,” Ethan explained, his voice barely above a whisper. “She told me to keep it safe, but she never said why.”

Rowan held out her hand, and he placed the amulet in her palm. She turned it over, feeling a faint warmth radiate from the metal. The rune was familiar, but she couldn’t place it immediately—it was old magic, the kind that people only spoke of in whispers. She knew enough to recognize that it wasn’t just a trinket; it was a ward, a protective charm that carried a heavy weight of responsibility.

“This isn’t just a keepsake,” she murmured, her tone serious. “It’s a key, of sorts. Or maybe more like a lighthouse, drawing certain forces toward it. Has anything else strange happened since you started wearing it?”

Ethan’s face went pale. “I—well, yes, I suppose. Even before I came to Raven’s Hollow, I had this feeling that I was being… watched. But I thought I was just paranoid.”

Rowan tapped her chin, her mind working quickly. “Paranoia’s only paranoia until you’ve got a ghost standing at the foot of your bed. Did your mother ever say where she got this?”

Ethan shook his head. “No, she was always… secretive about it.”

Rowan nodded, a smile playing at her lips. “Mothers and their secrets. But the way I see it, you’ve been given something far older and more powerful than anyone would expect. Whatever this amulet is tied to, it’s not just any magic. And you’re now its unlikely guardian, whether you like it or not.”

Ethan looked at her, panic flashing in his eyes. “So… what do I do? How do I get rid of it?”

“You don’t, not unless you want to deal with something worse.” Rowan tilted her head, studying him. “Throwing this away is like lighting a signal fire for anything out there looking for it. If you want to deal with this—and I mean truly deal with it—you need to learn what it’s calling and how to control it.”

“And you can teach me?”

Rowan’s eyes gleamed with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. “I can help. But teaching? That depends on how well you learn. Raven’s Hollow may be full of oddities, but even here, a ghostly midnight visitor isn’t exactly run-of-the-mill. Something powerful is moving, and you just might be at the center of it.”

Ethan was silent, looking down at the amulet in his hands. He seemed lost, his mind struggling to process everything she had told him. Rowan watched him, her expression softening slightly. She knew he was in over his head, but there was something about him—something that reminded her of herself when she had first learned about the hidden world beneath Raven’s Hollow. The curiosity, the fear, and the overwhelming sense of responsibility.

“Look,” she said finally, breaking the silence, “I know this is a lot to take in. But whatever this is, you’re not alone. We’ll figure it out together.”

Ethan looked up at her, his expression a mix of relief and gratitude. “Thank you,” he murmured. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Rowan gave him a small, reassuring smile. “You’d have figured it out. Trust me, you don’t seem the type to give up easily.” She rose, heading for her shelves where rows of jars and books lined the wall. “Now, let’s get started. We’re going to need all the help we can get, and the woods aren’t exactly known for giving up their secrets without a little nudge.”

With that, she began pulling down various herbs, muttering under her breath as she pieced together the ingredients for a protection charm. It was going to be a long night, but Rowan had a feeling this was only the beginning of something far darker—and far more important—than either of them could have imagined.