Vereluna ebbs and flows like the tides.

A delicate balance of push and pull.

But this morning, the balance may be tipped.

The dawn’s light pierced through the curtains. Maya groaned, squinting as she massaged her temples. The headache had started sometime after she got home last night. Now, it refused to leave. A steady, pounding presence beneath her skull. Quiet. Strange.

Still with this headache. Must be from the fog. Right?

She stumbled to her feet. The floor felt uneven as she struggled to find her balance. The headache throbbed again. Sharper. Sounds raked at her ears with each step. Her limbs felt distant and heavy.

The bathroom lights burned her eyes. She splashed handfuls of cold water on her face. Droplets dripped from her hair, down the sides of her neck.

The fierce pounding subsided. Somewhat.

Maya stared into the mirror. A woman with her face, groggy and exhausted, stared back.

“Ugh. You look like how I feel.” She leaned closer. “Don’t let them see you like this. Shake it off and let’s get going.”

She straightened up and patted her cheeks. With more effort than usual, she donned her typical disciplined face. Maya prepped herself for the day’s routine, moving swiftly while the headache abated.

A sense of normalcy seemed to return.

The feeling was immediately shattered once she stepped foot outside.

The pain crashed back like waves on a shore break. Maya gripped her temples and groaned.

Maybe it’ll go away if I walk it off.

Maya slung her satchel over her shoulder. The daily patrols and ward maintenance had no time for headaches. She patted the side pouches; brushes and obsidian stones rattled inside. 

Five wards. Abuela’s words gripped her memory. Four at the edges, one at the center. Each must be kept in its hour. Miss one, and the wards will fail.

Clutching the straps with both hands, she sauntered on toward the day—headache and all.

***

The town felt more crowded than usual. Every noise, every passing step pierced Maya’s ears like her headache pounding in her skull. Sunlight burned against her skin. Her feet dragged as she squeezed her temples tight.

She wasn’t yet halfway to the first ward on the east side of town.

At this rate, it’ll be mid-morning before I get there.

A powerful tug pulled at her chest. Her pulse quickened. Almost against her will, she faced west toward the town’s center. The hairs on her neck prickled. The tug came again, the headache thundering in unison.

Something in the center of town? No time for detours. East ward first.

It took much longer than usual, but Maya finally made it to the east ward. A large, smooth-barked tree stood facing the forest. 

Its thick, buttress roots stood tall and fanned outward in the dirt. The trunk rose green as it reached for the sky, but at its base, the dawn’s light settled a deep red, as if the light had bled the tree.

Maya approached the elder tree and knelt by the easternmost root, facing the forest. Nahuatl chants flowed from her, greeting and revering the elder tree.

She reached into her satchel and pulled out a hand-carved brush.

Her pulse quickened, eyes wide with shock. In her rush to outrun her headache, she’d forgotten to refill her glyph pouches. Heat flooded her face. The urge to scream was so strong it could have shaken the ground.

How did I forget?! Stupid! Stupid! If Abuela saw me now…I’d never hear the end of it!

She was huffing louder than her heart was pounding. Sweat poured down her face. She never forgot her glyph materials. One. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. Two…Three…

Her heartbeat slowed, rhythm returning to normal. She exhaled, slow and steady.

It’s ok. There’s enough left for this ward, thankfully. I’ll have time to head home and get more before the south ward. At least I’m not in charge of all four today.

Maya clasped her hands together, apologizing softly to the eastern ward. Another deep breath. She reached for a small wooden bowl inside her satchel. She scooped the last of the ash and resin from her glyph pouches, mixing them as she chanted in Nahuatl.

She placed her hand on the tree’s root, dipped the brush in the copal mix, and, continuing her chant, drew the sentinel’s glyph. 

As the sun rises, no harm nor shadow shall pass this root.

With the final brushstroke, the glyph was complete. The tree became, once again, the town’s sentinel.

***

The headaches didn’t let up. The trip back for supplies took more of a toll than Maya realized. By the time she stumbled to the south ward, her vision blurred at the edges. She barely remembered walking through the town. Everything slipped. That nagging pull clawed at her steps.

She nearly missed the mark. The south ward’s hour brushed up against noon. Maya managed, but barely, to scrawl the glyph and recite the chants. The ward’s glyph flickered faintly. Maya blinked, uncertain if it was just her blurry vision or something else.

She didn’t linger. Her hands found new scars, pricked by the cultivated cacti patch that made up the sentinel.

The pull didn’t let up one bit. If anything, it got smart. It nudged her in the wrong direction, made her question her senses, forced her to double back, to reassure herself of every step. Everything felt off. Spinning. Just enough to knock her off balance.

She winced while rubbing her hands. The prickly pear’s thorns made sure she wouldn’t forget today’s slip-ups. The tug’s sensation finally cracked Maya’s patience. She squared her shoulders, exhaling sharply.

Fine. Let’s go see what you want.

Too tired for defiance, Maya let herself drift toward the pull.

Each of Maya’s steps was less her own, more automatic, almost as if she were being swept by a current.

Shopfronts and bustling crowds blurred past at the edge of her awareness. Not even the powerful aromas of Café de Lago registered.

Before she realized it, time resumed. The world came back into focus. She stood before the entrance of the Vereluna Museum. Her headache eased a little, but now her heart knocked uneasily.

The halls felt cavernous, her very breath echoing off the walls. It had been a while since she last visited this place. Her heartbeat quickened as she went further inside.

She rounded the corner; the library’s doors came into view. As she walked closer, the ache behind her eyes tightened its grip. The pressure strained against her skull.

Her hands trembled. Cold sweat beaded across her brow. Every breath snagged in her throat, clawing for air.

In the library window, a short, wavy-haired woman appeared. Maya’s vision blurred. The pull spasmed through her chest—a demanding, merciless summons. Like the current at a waterfall’s edge.

It’s that woman from the forest last night!          

Why her?

Maya staggered back, bracing against the wall. Her temples hammered with unrelenting, deafening force. She pressed her fist to her chest, grinding against the pain, desperate to anchor herself.

She bit her lip to stifle a scream.

The library doors swung open. Maya pressed herself into the shadows. The ache now thundered behind her eyes, every nerve raw and ablaze.

The pull demanded she move forward. Maya resisted, fighting with every ounce of her being to stay hidden.

She squeezed her eyes shut, pleading for silence. But the pull only strengthened.

The world seemed to tilt again.

She was no longer sure where she was.

Where she ended.

Where the mystery began.