The door opened with a soft scrape of wood against wood.

  Thessa stepped inside and stopped.

  The room was not what she expected, though she wasn’t entirely sure what she had expected. Darkness, perhaps. Cobwebs.

  Instead, the space felt… cozy.

  A narrow bed rested beneath the slanted roof, its quilt stitched from uneven squares of faded green and brown fabric. A small round window was set into the far wall, glass imperfect and slightly warped, letting in a muted wash of late-afternoon light. Dust drifted lazily through the beam.

  A wooden chest sat at the foot of the bed. Against the opposite wall stood a simple desk, its surface marked with shallow cuts and ink stains. A single candle rested there, half-burned, wax hardened in thick drips down its side.

  While it wasn't grand it was still larger than her room in Black Hollow.

  Thessa stepped farther inside and closed the door behind her.

  She ran her fingers along the edge of the desk. The grooves in the wood caught at her skin.

  The wooden chest at the foot of the bed drew her attention next. Its lid was closed but not latched. The iron hinges were lightly rusted, yet the wood itself looked cared for, polished smooth by time rather than neglect.

  Kneeling, she placed both hands on the lid and lifted.

  It opened with a soft groan.

  Inside lay folded clothes, plain dresses in earth tones, wool stockings, heavy cloak, and a pair of pointy wooden shoes. Beneath them, tucked carefully rested something wrapped in linen.

  She pushed the clothes aside and lifted the bundle.

  It was heavier than she expected.

  The linen fell away in her hands, revealing a small, leather-bound book. The cover was cracked along the spine, edges worn pale with age. No title marked the front.

  “That is your journal.”

  The voice came from behind her.

  Thessa gasped and nearly dropped the book again. She spun around so quickly her knee struck the edge of the chest.

  Maerwyn stood just inside the doorway.

  Thessa hadn’t heard the latch lift. Hadn’t heard the hinges move. The door was simply open, and Maerwyn was there, one hand resting lightly against the wood.

  “How” Thessa pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady her breath. “How long have you been standing there?”

  Maerwyn’s expression did not change. “Since you opened the chest.”

  She looked back down at the book in her hands. “You said this is my journal .”

  Maerwyn nodded. “Im giving it to you.”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “But how… why” Thessa’s words faltered. She opened the journal again, flipping through the empty pages. “It’s blank. Why would it be mine if it’s… empty?”

  Maerwyn explained. “You must fill it with what you will learn.”

  Thessa frowned. “Fill it… with what?”

  “With your training,” Maerwyn said, walking closer. “All that you will experience, all that you will see, hear, and learn, this is where it will be recorded. Every lesson, every insight, every mistake. Everything matters, and this journal will keep it for you.”

  “Training?” Thessa echoed. “I don’t even understand what kind of training you mean.”

  Maerwyn’s gaze softened, but her voice remained steady. “The training of who you are meant to become. You have… abilities, Thessa. Gifts that have lain dormant, unnoticed, for too long. This journal is your guide, your mirror. It will help you understand what you feel, what you sense, and what you are capable of.”

  Thessa held the journal in her hands, feeling its weight, the worn leather pressing against her palms. “So… I’m supposed to write in it?”

  “Yes,” Maerwyn said, nodding. “You write your experiences, your observations, your thoughts. You write what you feel, what you learn.

  Thessa blinked “Why?”

  Maerwyn took a step closer, her eyes steady on Thessa’s. “Because knowledge is power,” she said simply. “And power is only as strong as your understanding of it.”

  “I don’t… understand,” Thessa admitted, her voice small.

  “Let me explain,” Maerwyn said, her tone patient. “You could practice every skill I teach you. You could master spells, senses, even the subtler arts that most will never glimpse. But if you do not record, reflect, and truly understand what you are doing, that knowledge is like water slipping through your fingers. Temporary. Fickle. Weak.”

  Thessa looked down at the blank page. The idea of writing every thought, every mistake, every observation felt… overwhelming.

  Maerwyn noticed her hesitation. “Start small. Document what you see, what you feel, what confuses you. The journal will grow with you. And as it grows, so too will your understanding, your insight, and your strength.”

  Thessa swallowed, still unsure. “And… you’ll be here, teaching me, guiding me?”

  “Always,” Maerwyn said. “But the journal is yours alone. Your experiences, your reflections, your discoveries. That is how knowledge becomes power.”

  Thessa nodded slowly, her fingers tightening around the journal. “I… I think I understand.”

  Maerwyn’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Good. Then we begin. Write tonight, even if it is only a sentence. It is the first step. Every step matters.”

  “Tomorrow we will start your first lesson, dinner will be ready soon.”

  Thessa watched Maerwyn leave the room, the soft click of the door closing behind her echoing in the quiet space.

  Thessa set the journal on her desk. The candle on the desk flickered, casting small dancing shadows across the pages.

  “Start small,” Maerwyn’s voice echoed faintly in her memory.

  Thessa swallowed hard. She leaned closer to the page, letting her eyes sweep over the clean, cream-colored surface. Her hand hovered for a moment before she pressed the tip of the quill down, feeling the slight resistance of the parchment beneath it. Then she wrote her first words.

  I am Thessa.

  Thessa spent a while writing about her travels with maerwyn.

  She closed the journal gently, as if it were a fragile treasure, and let herself lean back against the chair.

  The smell of roasting vegetables and warm bread drifted up from the kitchen, reminding Thessa that her stomach was empty and she hadn't had a proper meal in weeks.

  Maerwyn was already at the table when she arrived, arranging the plates with a quiet precision. The candlelight flickered across the simple wooden table, catching the shine of the ceramic bowls filled with stew and bread.

  Thessa took a seat, feeling slightly awkward in the stillness between them. She picked up a piece of bread and tore it in half, chewing slowly

  They ate in relative silence, the quiet only broken by the occasional scrape of a spoon against the bowl or the soft clatter of bread on a plate. Thessa found herself stealing glances at Maerwyn, wondering what tomorrow’s lesson would bring and whether she would be ready for it.

  When the meal was finished, Maerwyn stood and began clearing the plates. “Rest now,” she said, glancing at Thessa. “Tomorrow will be the first day of your real training. You need your strength.”

  Thessa made her way to her room when she arrived he got right into bed and pulled the quilt around her shoulders.

  Her eyelids grew heavy, and despite the questions still swirling in her mind, sleep began to pull her under.

  For the first time in a long while, Thessa felt at peace.