A/N: This one is intentionally short. We're getting close to a reveal, and there's something in this section that I wanna see if y'all pick up on. Happy reading!

~Day 5~

Emma woke with a start. Something felt wrong. Somehow, she was fully dressed, laying on top of her covers. She quickly removed her shoes and stockings, counting all her fingers and toes. An old childish fear, she'd once thought ogres would crawl out from under her bed and toll her dreams by eating her smallest digits.

She looked around the room, noticing that the light coming in through the window was still dim. She swung her legs over the edge, touching the broken necklace on the nightstand, before moving over to the window, just in time to witness the beginning of a beautiful sunrise. She couldn't possibly go back to bed after that view. It made her feel alive. The top of the sky was a dusty blue hue, almost as if it wasn't ready to wake. The blue faded into a faint mustard color, fading into a barely visible pink right above the treeline. She watched as the sun moved until it had just escaped the grasp of the tree tops.

She would meld into a sunrise if she could.

She stared at the changing colors, until all that was left was a bright, morning blue. It was nearing the normal time she would awake. She almost talked herself into going back to bed, but knew if she did, the entire day would go to hell. Instead, she made her way to the vanity to use the brush her mother had loaned to her. She missed her old heirloom. The history, the family story behind it… It was one object she treasured.

She sat down, sitting on something odd, making her jump right back up. It was a book, one she didn't recognize, nor did she remember placing it there. She picked it up, careful to slide a finger between the pages to keep the spot, so she could examine the cover. It was a leatherbound. A historical record of the origins of the Gods. She opened it to the page her finger had saved. Her eyes landed on an intricate drawing, all black lines. Three women working around a spindle. What kind of God - or in this case, Goddess - would work a spindle?

She had barely begun reading when there was a knock on her door.