An excerpt from Ch. 3 of The Illuminiers. About the book... This book is a good contemporary reading selection for anyone who likes mythical creatures; some invented, some from legends. There are essentially two stories in this book that combine into one. First, some background and the story of Amberly Wakeland, who moved into a haunted house and found herself caught in the web of a sinister illuminier. The second story is about Morgan Fey Burne who would rather be referred to as Morgan Achron. She follows her own path and with some mysterious objects, she finds Elderwynne's Academy. Eventually, Amberly's and Morgan's paths collide and their lives are drastically changed. Ever wonder what lies beyond the veil of magic? Magic is a series of commands upon the energy flowing through a force known as the Framework. While wizards and witches can recite the ancient commands to summon power, Illuminiers can amplify it. The one with the Synergium has limitless power. Markus Burne, an evil Illuminier, seeks the destruction of Elderwynne’s Academy to absorb the Synergium. The betrayal begins with an ancient entity and a deceitful girl with violet hair. Amberly and her mother are new to Locke Lake, and when they move into the notoriously haunted home of Connor Locke, they are easy targets. With promises of salvation, Markus steals the evil from Amberly’s home for a darker purpose. He disappears with the forbidden magic, leaving destruction in his wake. He leaves his daughter, Morgan behind... The daughter he traded for supremacy isn't an easy target. Morgan Fay Achron has the power of three and the gift of time. She’s a descendant of Morgan Le Fay with a timepiece, a coin, and a book of nonsensical poetry. Miserable with a stepmother that doesn't want her, she mourns for the father that vanished. Then Arthur Achron arrives. Convincing her to come to Locke Lake, she leaves the only home she’s ever known to seek answers. At H.B. Locke Private School, Morgan spies another student leaving the cafeteria; a girl with purple hair. Morgan discovers another school far out on the isthmus. With ingenuity and a white lie, she surprises the Illuminiers. They find her dishonesty unwelcome, distrusting her nearly as much as the one person who tried to destroy them. Despite having a lineage that dates back to Merlin and King Arthur, Morgan has to fight to gain the trust of the Illuminiers to use the Framework. Morgan’s friends are there to help her find herself. When the time comes, will Morgan betray the Illuminiers as Markus would have it? Will she stand with her friends against a dark adversary? Swept up in the Synergium, can she resist the lure of the Framework? This novel features the chronicles of two girls, Amberly and Morgan and how their paths connect. Recommended for ages 11+, but a great read for all ages!

1. An Excerpt from The Illuminiers Chapter 3, by Patricia Arnold
Chapter Three – The Magical Timepiece
As the dawn crept into the windows, the old alarm went off. The ringing scared Morgan out
of bed, causing her to panic. She hit the button to silence the noise and looked out the window.
The blue sky and sunshine promised a beautiful fall day. Morgan switched on a light and
dressed. She put on the outfit she placed on top of her dresser the night before. She chose a
lightweight navy blue sweater with a gray blouse underneath combined with a pair of plain
looking jeans. She wanted to look as ordinary as she could for her first day at school so that she
could blend into the background. As she struggled with her hair and brushed her teeth, Morgan
wondered how her first day at school would play out. She began to feel tense all of the sudden,
uncertain of herself.
Something’s happening today, I can feel it.
Like any young girl, she worried about what others would think of her grandfather walking
her into school. He appeared disheveled lately. He didn’t dress as he had on the day that she met
him. His thick unruly white hair was often tucked under a plaid fall cap, and his face was
unshaven. He had the look of a man with other things on his mind, and rightfully so. Although
she knew of his antiques business, he seemed content with keeping the store closed.
In addition, Morgan wasn’t looking forward to the typical nosey questions from the other
students. If asked, she didn’t have a clue in regard to what to say about her parents. She pictured
herself telling them that she was a modern day Cinderella in need of a fairy godmother. That
would be a rebellious response, but there was no other witty way to put her situation into words.
She grabbed her bag and pulled out the tin box that she had taken from her room on Pine
Street. It was just a regular square tin box that had once contained candies, but to Morgan, it was
something special. She opened the box and unfolded a slip of paper inside. Morgan reviewed the
note, which served as the box’s contents list.
(1) One fifty cent piece
(1) One gold pocket watch
(1) One book of poetry
The first item came from her father’s jacket, and the second item was handed to her by the
man himself. It clearly didn’t work. The third item was one of the most confusing items on the
list. Morgan’s father always carried the small book with him before he disappeared. Just before
the police arrived, she found it out on front porch tucked inside a flower pot. She assumed that it
had probably fallen out of his coat and landed there by accident. After all, he had no cause to

2. leave it there. As soon as she spotted it, Morgan picked up the small book and took it to her room
to look over without having to deal with Pamela’s prying eyes.
When Morgan opened it, it had a picture of her at seven and an inscription on the first page:
To Morgan, my favorite apprentice. It was written in her father’s choppy handwriting. The rest
of the pages confused her. Each page was filled with ridiculously horrible poetry. The title of the
poetry collection was Practicality Poems by Giles Elderwynne.
The poems made little sense, and the odd way that they were written seemed unbecoming of
a man with such a fancy name. Some of the verses were long, and some were short. Many of
them didn’t even rhyme. The first poem was unusual, the title of it an abbreviation.
E.A.E.
Tow entery knocking twiced,
Sayed yourse named oncely, twicely, thricely.
Sayed ite fasten, been precisely.
Morgan didn’t tell anyone about the book of poems. She placed it in the tin box with the
watch and the coin. She kept it hidden in her backpack, only looking at the contents when she
was certain that she was alone. She regarded the three items as pieces to a puzzle she was meant
to solve. The solution was out there, she just had to find it.
Morgan quickly finished dressing. She collected the tin box and tucked it back into her bag.
She walked out into the hallway and made her way to the kitchen. Her grandfather sat at the old
kitchen table sipping his coffee. He was wearing a black suit, and his hair was neatly combed. He
offered Morgan a cup of coffee, and she accepted. Coffee was never an option at her house.
Apparently, she was in for an unconventional family life with her grandfather. He smiled and
raised his cup.
“Are you ready for your new school?” He asked. Morgan was surprised by his broad smile.
Apparently, he was excited about the occasion. She felt guilty for thinking he was an
embarrassment in any way.
“I guess.” Morgan said uncertainly.
“You guess? You’re an Achron. There’s a whole year of knowledge waiting for you.”
Morgan couldn’t resist smiling a little at his expression. Her grandfather said the words as if she
was in for an adventure. He made her first day seem so easy!
“This is all new to me, and I still don’t know much about being an Achron.” She didn’t
want to tell him that she was feeling unsure of herself, but he guessed nonetheless. He wagged
his finger and smiled.
“You’re Margaux’s girl and you are an Achron more than a Burne and that means
something.” Morgan smiled. She liked the idea of being an Achron rather than a Burne.
“How can I be more of an Achron than a Burne, Arthur? Wouldn’t I be fifty percent of
each?” Morgan asked teasingly. Morgan enjoyed calling him Arthur instead of grandfather
sometimes. Naturally, like everything else she did, he found it amusing.
“Ah, percentages! Never mind them when it comes to Achron blood. The Achron genes are
strong and true!” He proclaimed proudly. Morgan looked away smiling. She loved the way he
liked to joke with her. As Morgan got into her Arthur’s aging Cadillac, her tensions began to
increase. As they travelled down the road, they passed forests and an occasional farm house.
There were graceful horses grazing in the fields, cows aplenty and an occasional alpaca. It was
far different than the suburbs she was used to.

3. The leaves were turning a beautiful gold, red and russet. The sunshine relaxed Morgan, and
her grandfather reminded her to work hard on her studies. He promised her a delicious pot roast
dinner when she returned to celebrate the conclusion of her first day. Morgan smiled at Arthur,
and as always, he smiled back. She was thankful for the family she had left, and the old house
she would return to. As they approached the middle school, Arthur told her that he himself had
once been a student there.
Morgan honestly didn’t know what to make of the old red brick building. She had never
attended such an old relic of a school. The old fashioned architecture of the school made her
wonder why a modern school hadn’t replaced it years ago. Only a building steeped in tradition
and history could escape the trappings of the modern world. She began to worry about the
strictness of such an establishment so submerged in the private school tradition.
Will I have to wear a school uniform?
Morgan didn’t recall her grandfather mentioning anything about a uniform.
The front of the school read, H.B. Locke Middle School. After Arthur parked the car in a
parking space and turned off the engine, he got out and led the way to the door. Morgan rushed
to catch up, surprised that she was having a hard time keeping pace with the older gentlemen. In
the autumn sunlight, he seemed very hale and alert. His white hair had a bit of gray in it, and he
had the look of an intellectual always ready to impart some kind of wisdom.
Morgan was learning that Arthur Achron was no one to underestimate. He was more than
strong enough to walk his granddaughter to the principal’s office without breaking a sweat. Later
in life, she was given his secret to longevity, but as she walked into the H.B. Locke Middle
School for the first time, she thought her grandfather was sort of immortal.
It was if he was gradually getting younger.
They passed the principal’s office and walked further down the main hallway. Morgan
followed her grandfather as he turned right down a narrow corridor. At the end of the passage
was an unlabeled red door that appeared to be more of an entrance to a closet rather than an
office. He knocked twice on the old red door. They entered after hearing the voice of a woman
invite them both inside.
Morgan found herself in a rather large office that seemed to be frozen in a past. The wall
colors, décor and the furnishings reminded Morgan of an old snapshot found in a magazine from
the fifties. A gray haired woman sat behind the desk, her hair swept up into a simple pony tail
and twisted into a bun. She wore a white blouse and gray pearls around her neck. When she rose
to greet them, Morgan noticed that she wore a perfectly pressed black and white pinstriped skirt.
Her smile was kind.
“Arthur Achron, how lovely to see you again!” Her attention turned to Morgan. “And this is
your granddaughter?” When he nodded, she looked at Morgan’s face. She smiled faintly.
Morgan could smell the scent of verbena all around.
She reached out her hand to Morgan, who shook it politely. Arthur nodded his head and
smiled.
“Seeing you is always a pleasure, Mrs. Patterson.” He directed his attention to his
granddaughter.
“Morgan, this is Mrs. Ivy Patterson, she has been in charge of H.B. Locke for quite some
time, and lucky we are to have her.”
“Still trying to make a good impression, Mr. Achron? Well, you’ve already accomplished
that task by donating to the school library fund. Sit down, both of you, sit down!”

4. Morgan smiled at Mrs. Patterson. As Mrs. Patterson began to talk to Morgan’s grandfather,
she noticed that she had many pictures on the walls of her family and pets in gilded frames. The
sound of their voices faded into the background of the room as Morgan glanced at the walls and
the items all around her. Ivy had a large shelf of leather bound books that interested her greatly.
She didn’t recognize anything that she had ever read before. Just when she began to read all the
titles on the spines, Mrs. Patterson told Morgan that it was time for her to meet the other
students.
“She’s observant isn’t she, Arthur?” Mrs. Patterson remarked.
“Yes, she is just as observant as Marguax ever was.” Arthur said.
“Morgan, we were all sorry to hear about your parents. Rest assured, we’ll take good care of
you. Not to mention the fact that you couldn’t ask for a better grandfather.” Mrs. Patterson said
kindly.
“Thank you for saying so, Mrs. Patterson.” Arthur said with a smile.
Her grandfather hugged Morgan goodbye and walked out the door with a look of
contentment on his face. He then got back into his Cadillac so that he could meet his client. After
the meeting, he would go home and begin cooking the pot roast he would share with Morgan
when she arrived home from school.
Morgan followed Mrs. Patterson to her first class, which happened to be English. She
enjoyed writing, but she disliked the study of grammar, finding it more of a natural instinct rather
than a method. Her English teacher introduced herself as Mr. Hood, and then asked Morgan to
introduce herself to the class. She looked at the unfamiliar faces and introduced herself
hesitantly. To her surprise, the students smiled and bid her welcome. As she made her way to an
empty desk in the back, she was quite pleased with the response.
Morgan was surprised at how relaxed she felt at the rural school. Even though it was an old
building compared to the posh school she once knew, H.B. Locke Middle School seemed
familiar and she was soon feeling comfortable. When Mr. Hood squeezed his bulk between the
desks to offer Morgan her textbook, she smiled a satisfied smile. She felt her anxiety release its
grip from her mind.
Things are going better than I thought!
Before she knew it, she was following Mr. Hood’s lecture with some interest. He used
examples that were interesting and lively. Unlike her previous English teacher’s lectures, she
didn’t have to fight to stay awake when he talked about pronouns and adjectives. The in-class
assignment that he gave was for each student to write about a favorite memory.
“It can be about a vacation, a day when you had fun or anything else you can think of. I
want you to try to fill your essay with lots of adjectives.” He said, pushing his glasses back on
the bridge of his nose.
Morgan wrote for about a half hour about the time that her parents took her to the zoo. The
happy memories of her mother pointing out the tiger seemed to write itself into an essay. Lost in
her memories, Morgan barely noticed how fast time went by. Soon it was time for lunch.
Morgan followed the herd to the cafeteria, which smelled strongly of a variety of foods old
and new. As she took her tray to a table and sat down, she noticed something peculiar. There
didn’t seem to be any major cliques at H.B. Locke, just friendly conversation. She seemed to be
surrounded by rural kids who didn’t seem concerned with hairstyles, clothes and status. Morgan
felt strangely out of place. Her plainest clothes seemed to stand out amidst the down-to-earth
group. Surprisingly, nobody pointed out the differences between her and them.

5. Morgan ate her mashed potatoes and macaroni and cheese. She was surprised that they
tasted as good as they did. It didn’t seem to fit with the outdated school cafeteria image. She was
about to bite into her blonde brownie when she spied a girl leaving the school.
She watched a dark-haired girl sneak out of the cafeteria through a narrow glass door in the
corner to the left. Like Morgan, she stood out. She wore a plaid purple and black skirt with long
black leggings. A black hoodie covered a black shirt. Her black tresses were twisted into a pair
of unusual twists, which seemed to be staying together by sheer will. Her bangs were cut at an
angle and the edges were dyed purple. She could tell that the girl she was watching had naturally
dark hair, but the purple was clearly permanent. Morgan had seen girls with purple dyed hair
before, but the twists? They were something different entirely.
As the girl slid out the door, she looked around as if sensing somebody watching her.
Morgan looked down at her food hoping that the girl didn’t notice her watching. When she
looked up, she saw the glass door gently close. Despite the repainted and warped doors in the
rest of the building, the glass door was barely discernible, seamlessly blending in with the rest of
the window panes.
Morgan had an impulsive idea. She decided to slip out the crystalline glass door to follow
the unusual girl. She knew it was in terrible form to leave the school grounds on the first day, but
she couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was meant to satisfy her
curiosity about the girl’s actions. She summoned the courage to act.
That’s right, go. No one will notice.
Morgan grabbed her bag, picked up her tray, and dumped its contents quickly into the trash.
After placing the tray with the other used ones, she looked around briefly and covertly made her
way to the door. She held out her hands and felt the smooth glass door give slightly. She pushed
the door with both of her hands and found that it gave easily and quietly.
She was outside and the door closed behind her, the seams disappearing as if the glass door
was nothing but an illusion. The air was fresh with the smell of pine trees and the leaves of fall.
She glanced back at the kids in the cafeteria within the glass. She was amazed how they seemed
like a school of fish swimming together, without a worry or concern. They were fixated on
keeping the status quo at H.B. Locke. Their entire goal was to be a student body that kept things
pleasant.
She sensed that it couldn’t be the whole story.
After seeing a glimpse of the girl’s plaid skirt beyond the branches of the cedar trees,
Morgan pulled her bag higher on her shoulder and followed her into the trees as silently as
possible. She was relieved to find a path that led further into the trees, so it wouldn’t be as if she
had wandered into the woods without a plan to find her way back. She knew that people got lost
when they didn’t have a path to follow, and they had a way of never being found again. She
promised herself that she would only follow the girl for a little while, just long enough for her to
see what she was doing and then she would sneak back into the cafeteria. Sneaking out had
proved easy, so sneaking in wouldn’t be a problem.
Morgan heard the footsteps of the girl with the purple highlights as she trudged down the
trail. She kept a safe distance from her to avoid alerting her that she had a follower. As Morgan
made her way down the winding path, she was haunted by the silence of the woods. She found
that the trail suddenly wound around the shores of Locke Lake, a large inland lake that her
grandfather pointed out when he was showing her around. As the waves gently moved towards
the shore, Morgan gazed at the water as groups of the tiniest of fishes swam in the cool shallow
depths. Time paused as she lost herself in the beautiful play of light and water.

6. Her daydreaming had accomplished the impossible once more, and something was alerted
that the girl with the strange gift was near.
Suddenly, she heard the lyrical sound of laughter coming from the trees.
“Is someone there?” She called out. Morgan was surprised at how flat and toneless her voice
sounded and how unwelcome she felt. No one answered her question, and she could only hope
that she hadn’t given herself away. She felt self-conscious, as if someone who didn’t like her was
watching her from the thicket.
Is the dark-haired girl watching me?
Almost in reply to her thoughts, she heard the familiar steps of the girl she followed. She
forgot the beauty of the lake and quickened her pace. The path wove in and around the trees by
the lake and sometimes almost into the water. She navigated the corners of the trail around the
lake where aquatic plants grew from sand, moss and water amidst tiny leaves that spun about in
the cool water.
The trees loomed over her like guards as the sunlight filtered through the maple leaves and
pine needles. As she walked, she couldn’t help but notice the contrast between the radiance of
the sunlight glinting off the lake and the shadows deep in the forest. There was a line dividing
light and shade, and neither gave any ground.
The pines became thicker as she moved away from the water and further into the forest. She
stopped for a moment when she heard the sounds of whispering high up in the trees to the left of
her. Her heart beating, Morgan stood still on the path, listening to the shifting noises around her.
She began to doubt her actions and decided to turn back. She thought of the girl she was
following.
Why is she walking around in the woods?
She began to run, following the path as it moved around another tree and back towards the
water’s edge. She saw the blur of the purple and black of the girls skirt about fifty yards ahead of
her. The girl suddenly paused on a narrow wooden bridge leading to another land mass that was
disconnected from the shore. When she heard the sound of the girl’s footsteps cease, she ducked
to the ground and peered through the tall grass. The girl with the purple hair looked around in
every direction, clearly alerted to something out of the ordinary. Morgan knew at once that the
girl was aware that she was being followed. She began to panic when the girl began to reverse
direction.
Morgan didn’t know how she would explain herself.
She held her breath for a few tense when she heard the footsteps close in on her hiding
place. Just when she was a planning an excuse for her presence there, the footsteps moved
quickly away. She heard the hollow sound of footfalls coming from the bridge, and she exhaled
in relief. She dusted the sand from her clothes and was up on her feet in time to witness the girl
racing towards the island.
Morgan continued forward cautiously until the divide between her and the girl widened. As
she approached the bridge, she was startled by a bird landing on one of the cattails in the marshy
area of the lake. To her amazement, the bridge itself was beginning to fade in the pale sunlight.
Startled, she stepped forward to see if the bridge was an illusion. Before it could fade completely
from her view, she put her hand on the rail.
Instantly, the bridge returned in realistic detail. She took a deep breath and walked across the
wooden boards as quietly as possible. Once on the other side, she looked behind her to find that
the bridge had completely disappeared. She bent over, picked up some sand and tossed it in the
direction of the bridge. The sand found nothing but the water.

7. “It’s too late to turn back now unless I swim to the other side.” Morgan said to herself. She
found herself on a small island about fifty feet from the long isthmus that had led her there. She
could see what appeared to be an old brick building beyond a line of trees. She bent over as she
walked, not wanting to be seen. She didn’t want to be discovered when it seemed she was
closing in on the answers she was looking for.
As she walked past the trees, she could see that the brick building was older than H.B.
Locke. It was two stories high, and she could see indications of previous repairs. Some of the
repairs seemed recent, yet there was nothing about the building that looked anything but
functional.
The structure reminded her of a very old manufacturing building that had been converted
into storage, though she couldn’t imagine how anyone could transport anything there easily. The
door to the building seemed ill-suited to fit anything through. Most of the windows were covered
with plywood. It appeared abandoned, and the stillness around reinforced the lonely feel of the
island. Morgan was certain that the girl with the purple hair had walked towards the building,
and probably went inside.
But how did she get in? She wondered.
Morgan walked forward and touched the brick wall next to the door with her hand. The
brick became impossibly pliable under her palm, and she pulled away in surprise. She could see
waves of heat coming from the building. She backed up.
Suddenly, Morgan heard a loud ticking noise coming from her backpack. Startled, she fell
down and landed on her behind, turning her ankle in the process.
“Uh!” She exclaimed, rubbing her ankle in pain.
Meanwhile, the ticking continued, and the sound increased in intensity. It was pulsing in her
ears and giving her a headache. The sound didn’t mix well with the pain coming from her ankle.
She pulled off her backpack and threw it to the ground in frustration. Suddenly, Morgan’s
attention was drawn by the sound of an electrical charge near the area she previously touched.
She watched as something appeared on the brick surface. A polished brass plaque glimmered in
the sunlight. She read the engraved words aloud.
“Elderwynne’s Academy.”
It was too incredible to believe. Her grandfather said nothing of another school concealed on
an island in Locke Lake. Morgan looked around fearfully, but all was silent. She jumped at the
slightest movement among the ferns. She hoped the source of the noise may be the movements
of a squirrel or rabbit. She began to feel that she needed to seek a safe haven. Frightened,
Morgan was unable to swallow. Her mouth was so dry she could barely stand it. She wished that
she had never followed the girl. Her quest for knowledge was quickly turning into a foolish
game.
Without warning, the ticking resumed, and it became clear to Morgan that the right action
was needed. Until she could put the clues together, the signs would resume. Her backpack was
pulsating. She grabbed it and stood up. She heard the sound of heavier metal clanking against the
tin. Remembering the tin box with her father’s things, she pulled it out of the bag.
At first it felt like a living thing was banging back and forth inside. The box nearly fell out
of her hand. Eventually, the noise began to slow to a stop. She gingerly opened the lid of the tin
box and spilled the contents on the ground. The watch rolled out and commenced its ticking. She
leaned down and touched it gently, feeling the smallest jolt in her fingertips. The sensation
reminded her of how it felt when she placed her index finger between two magnets.

8. Morgan picked up the timepiece and looked at it, fascinated by its rapidly changing
qualities. She opened the cover to find that the hands were spinning. She felt compelled to turn it
over. She heard the tiniest scraping noise as a message was engraved on the back of the pocket
watch as if by an invisible hand.
Introduce Yourself and Enter, Apprentice Illuminier.
While these occurrences would be shocking to most to the point of running away screaming,
Morgan knew it was all part of fate. She was startled, but at her very core she felt a familiarity.
She was certain that similar events had happened to others who carried the timepiece.
“I know this place.” She said, under her breath. Morgan looked at the building and made
another willful decision. Even though she didn’t have permission, she was going in the building.
She heard the slight voice of her mother.
The answers you’re looking for are inside if you remember who you are.
She stood as straight as she could. She smoothed down her hair and brushed the dirt from
her clothing. She tried to follow the directions on the timepiece. Nothing about the situation fit
within the usual rules of the world, so she decided to try unusual solutions.
“My name is Morgan Fay Burne.” She said to the silence around her.
Nothing happened, but the sound of faint whispers coming from the direction of the forest
made Morgan look around anxiously. She saw a current of air moving through the ferns, but she
saw nothing.
Someone is here.
The soft murmurs reminded her of the sounds of pampas grass as it moved in the wind or the
sound of a breeze flowing through the silvery birch leaves on a summer day. Although the voices
were mildly alarming, she didn’t feel threatened immediately. The sounds were elemental in
nature.
Morgan tried to calm her fears, finding it better not to draw needless attention.
Suddenly, she heard the sound of branches cracking. Something else was moving through
the foliage observing her actions. Thinking it was just an animal, she took comfort that it was
low to the ground. A creature small in size stalking her was infinitely better than something
large.
Still, Morgan knew she had to think fast.
With her hands shaking, she put the watch in her pocket and picked up the silver coin and
placed it in the tin box. When her eyes rested on the small poetry book, she was reminded of the
first poem. She picked it up and dusted off the dirt. Morgan opened the scuffed leather cover.
She focused on the poem which once appeared to be nonsense. However, within the shadow of
the building, certain letters in the verse stood out while the other characters receded, revealing a
message.
To enter knock twice,
Say your name once, twice, thrice.
Say it fast, be precise.
When she pulled the book out of shadows and into the sunlight, the words appeared as
before. Morgan came to the conclusion that the building held mysterious powers over the items
in the tin. To confirm her theory, she walked back towards the woods again. When she got back
to the path into the woods, the poem and the watch appeared as ordinary as before. She decided
to investigate further.

9. Even though Morgan was shaking just a little, she tried to focus. She walked back to the
building and held the poetry book in the other hand, meditating on its message. Everything
seemed to move around her but she inhaled and didn’t let anything distract her. She focused on
the sounds around her, specifically on the sounds of the forest. She began to hear faint, persistent
voices telling her what to do. They didn’t sound like her mother.
She meditated on the moments between time that were hers for the taking. Just when it
seemed she would linger in this state, she opened her eyes.
“Let’s see.” Morgan went to the door, and knocked twice and stood back. She repeated her
name three times rapidly in a clear voice and waited. A minute went by and the silence
continued. Morgan shrugged and began to pack the tin into her backpack. She knew she had
better walk fast to make it to her next class.
Morgan heard a clear, feminine whisper from the forest. The voice echoed around her.
Your real name, real name, Arthur’s name…
She spun around, peering into the woods. Once again, there was nothing out of the ordinary.
She thought about what her grandfather said to her that morning.
More Achron than Burne.
It seemed strange, but she decided to follow the voice’s advice. She repeated the steps as
before, but this time she said, “Morgan Fay Achron, Morgan Fay Achron, Morgan Fay
Achron…”
Suddenly, she heard a vibration coming from the door. Dust and pebbles spun around in the
air as it began to open. The mysteries of a long corridor awaited her. Morgan turned to look at
the path she had traveled, and could travel again. She could easily walk back to the cafeteria to
rejoin the school of fish, far from the corridor and its dangers.
She also knew that everything would change if she walked in.
Instead of listening to the practical, safe Morgan, she listened to the voices that told her to
go onward. As Morgan entered the lantern lit hallway, she heard the door close behind her. With
the irreversible decision made, a chain reaction began in the forest. Whimsical laughter echoed
throughout the woods and the wind victoriously whipped the brown leaves from the branches of
the trees. Voices united in one whisper glided through the leaves and grass. The sounds of joy
circulated everywhere, increasing in pitch to that of a clarion.
Tell the others that an Achron has returned to Elderwynne’s…
The waters of Locke Lake rippled more than usual, and the waves slapped the shore
forcefully. However, not everyone had good intentions. One of the forest’s more devious
residents laughed darkly.
“Tell the master that the trap is set…”
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