Her First Quest

Elaine Cavanaugh had spent sixty years building a life of order.

Every dish had a place in the cupboard, bills paid, and nails done each Tuesday at 9 a.m. Order, after all, was her superpower, or so she thought.

And when Henry, her husband of thirty-five years, had walked out last year with a twenty-seven-year-old Pilates instructor, she’d cried twice: once when he took the coffeemaker and again when she realized he’d left all the alimony paperwork behind.

Come her sixtieth birthday, Elaine sat alone at her kitchen table, squinting at a crossword puzzle. The letters blurred into each other.

Her glasses, the good ones, were missing again. And it was in that moment—when she reached for the wine bottle instead of her tea—that the gargoyle arrived.

It wasn’t a quiet entrance.

The ceiling cracked first, a jagged fissure racing across the plaster like a bony finger dragging doom into her living room. Then came the crash, her antique coffee table obliterated by a squat, gray mass.

When the dust cleared, Elaine found herself staring at an honest-to-God gargoyle. “You have got to be kidding me,” she muttered, more annoyed than frightened. “Do you know how hard it is to find a matching coffee table set?”

The gargoyle, all craggy with sneering features, flexed its claws. Its voice was gravel and thunder. “Elaine Cavanaugh, Keeper of the Light, your destiny calls.”

“My what?” Elaine snorted. “I think you’ve got the wrong Cavanaugh.”

The creature didn’t blink–could it blink? Instead, it lumbered closer, shattering a flower vase with its tail. “You are the heir to the Bloodline of Illumina, protector of the balance, and—”

“Okay, slow down, gravel face.” Elaine grabbed her broom.

If nothing else, she could shoo the thing outside before it knocked over her bookshelf. “Listen, I’m sixty years old, divorced, and I have bad knees. You want a hero? Try one of those cosplay kids downtown. I’m sure they’ll love this whole mystical quest thing.”

But the gargoyle only growled–a deep rumble that made Elaine’s teeth chatter. And just as she was about to shove it out the door, something else happened.

The air rippled like heatwaves from her hot flashes. A low hum rushed through her ears, sharp and insistent.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. And then, with a pop, her kitchen was gone.

In its place stood a forest.

A dark, twisting, impossibly alive forest, where shadows moved in ways they shouldn’t, and the trees seemed to watch her. Elaine blinked.

She turned around. The gargoyle was still there, crouched beside her.

“Congratulations,” it said. “You’ve stepped into the Veil.”

“The Veil?” Elaine croaked. “Oh, I’m veiled, all right. Veiled in confusion. What the hell is going on?”

Before the creature could answer, there was a snap of branches behind her. Elaine spun around—too fast for her creaky hip, which protested loudly. Standing at the edge of the clearing was a man.

No, not a man. A beast.

With golden eyes, sharp teeth, and a frame too tall to be human, he stepped into the light, his form flickering between being a rugged, handsome man and a snarling wolf. His smirk was maddeningly smug.

“Ah,” he said, his voice smooth as whiskey. “The new Keeper. You’re older than I expected.”

Elaine glared at him. “And you’re a walking midlife crisis. Who are you?”
The wolf-man chuckled. “Call me Rafe. I’m here to keep you alive long enough to save the world.”

“Save the world,” Elaine repeated, stunned. “I can’t even save my Wi-Fi password. You’ve got the wrong person.”

Before Rafe could argue, the shadows began to shift again. But this time, they didn’t form anything as benign as a forest.

A figure stepped out from the darkness, its shape wrong. Too tall, too thin, too many limbs. Its face—if you could call it that—was a void, an absence of light.

“Dark Mage,” Rafe hissed, his easy smirk gone.

Elaine froze. She wanted to run, scream, anything, but her feet were rooted to the spot.

The creature raised a hand, and the air seemed to suck inward, the world bending around it. And then—

A burst of light.

It was blinding, white-hot, pouring from her hands. Elaine gasped, stumbling back as the creature screamed, its form dissolving into ash.
When the light faded, she stood trembling, her palms warm and glowing faintly.

“What—what just happened?” she whispered.

Rafe grinned the wolfish gleam back in his eyes. “Looks like your magic decided to show up.”

Elaine didn’t have time to process his words. The forest rippled again, the shadows creeping closer. “More will come,” the gargoyle warned. “The Dark Mages will stop at nothing to claim the Keeper’s power.”

“Great,” Elaine muttered, rubbing her temples. “Can I at least find my reading glasses first?”

Rafe laughed. “Welcome to the fight, grandma. Hope you’re ready.”

But Elaine wasn’t ready. Not even close.

Her life in shambles and body betraying her, she had no idea how to wield the raw, chaotic power coursing through her veins. But as the darkness closed in, one thing became clear: ready or not, the world would not save itself.

“Where the hell are those glasses?” she shouted, looking at her reflection in the window. She touched the top of her head, knowing the world was doomed.