The First Sign

The next morning, the village of Eldridge awoke to a quiet, snow-clad world. The heavy gray clouds had given way to soft, fluffy snowflakes that drifted down in gentle swirls. Annabeth stood by her bedroom window, watching the snow coat the trees in white. The stillness of the morning matched the quiet anticipation that stirred in her chest. She had spent the night praying and reading, but she still didn’t have any answers, only a sense of something important, something coming.

As the hours passed and the day wore on, the town went about its usual rhythms. The streets were covered with a fresh layer of snow, and the villagers bustled with the sort of determined calm that only winter could bring. Emmalyn had already disappeared into town with a few friends, no doubt to fuel her usual mischief. Annabeth didn’t mind the solitude—it gave her time to think, time to process the stirring in her soul. But today, that stirring wouldn’t let her rest.

At the kitchen table, Annabeth stirred a mug of hot cocoa, her thoughts drifting back to the verse in Isaiah: *Here am I, send me.* It had been weeks since she first read it, and still, it echoed in her mind. Something about those words called to her in a way she couldn’t explain. She wasn’t sure what kind of journey she was supposed to prepare for, but she felt the quiet pressure of expectation. The feeling grew stronger with every passing day.

She glanced over at the calendar on the wall. The annual Eldridge Winter Festival was just a few days away. It was the town’s biggest event of the year, a celebration of the season’s first snowfall, complete with games, food, and a parade. Annabeth usually preferred to stay out of the spotlight, but something told her this year would be different. Maybe it was the quiet nudging in her heart, or the sense that something—some change—was just on the horizon.

The clock on the wall ticked, pulling her out of her thoughts. As the evening drew near, Annabeth gathered herself. She didn’t have a plan yet, no clear direction, but she was ready to face whatever came. She headed toward the door, her boots crunching softly on the freshly fallen snow.

Out in the front yard, she saw Emmalyn walking up the driveway, her fiery red hair a bright contrast against the gray winter sky. Her face was set in a familiar expression: the one she wore when she had something on her mind, something important to say.

“Well, well, look who finally decided to leave her self-imposed exile,” Emmalyn said with a smirk. “You planning on getting lost in the snow or just looking for a reason to complain about how boring life is?”

Annabeth smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I don’t know. Just needed to get out. Maybe take a walk. Clear my head.”

Emmalyn tilted her head, a glimmer of concern flashing across her face. “You sure you’re okay? You’ve been a little… off, lately. Like there’s something more going on than you’re letting on.”

Annabeth hesitated. She had been quiet, maybe too quiet, but she wasn’t sure how to explain what was happening inside her. “I just… I feel like something is coming. Like there's a reason we’re here, in this place, at this time. And I think God’s trying to tell me something. But I don’t know what.”

Emmalyn raised an eyebrow, her arms folded over her chest. “God, huh? So this isn’t just some weird mood swing you’re having. This is serious.”

Annabeth nodded. “Yeah, it’s serious. I’ve been praying about it, reading my Bible, trying to understand. But it’s like there's a message in the air, something I can’t quite grasp.”

Emmalyn didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then she broke the silence with a small, almost reluctant smile. “Well, I guess we can’t let the ‘chosen one’ wander around in the snow all alone. Might as well have a little company, right?”

Annabeth laughed softly, feeling the weight of her sister’s words. “You’re not coming with me just to mock me, are you?”

Emmalyn shrugged. “Maybe a little. But honestly? I don’t think you can take on ‘saving the world’ without a sidekick. And who better than me?”

“Guess that’s true,” Annabeth replied, her voice softening. The weight on her heart seemed a little lighter with her sister by her side.

The two sisters walked together through the snow-covered streets, each lost in their own thoughts but finding comfort in the simple act of being together. The village seemed more alive than it had in days, the festival preparations beginning in earnest. The faint sounds of laughter and music drifted through the air, but to Annabeth, it was just background noise to the deeper sense of something unfolding, just beyond reach.

As they reached the park, where they often spent their time growing up, Annabeth noticed something different. The swings, usually swaying gently in the wind, were still. The air felt thick, heavy, as though the world was holding its breath. It was in that moment, standing in the quiet of the park, that Annabeth saw it.

A figure, barely more than a silhouette against the horizon, was walking toward them through the snow. At first, Annabeth thought it was just a trick of the light, but as the figure drew closer, she felt her pulse quicken. There was something about this person—something familiar yet entirely unknown.

"Who's that?" Emmalyn asked, squinting into the snow.

Annabeth didn’t answer right away. The figure was tall, cloaked in a heavy, dark coat that blended into the wintery backdrop. There was something about their presence, something so inexplicably compelling, that Annabeth felt a strange pull.

“Let’s go talk to them,” Annabeth said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Emmalyn shot her a sidelong glance but didn’t protest. "Sure, why not. But if this is some strange person from the woods, I’m running."

Annabeth smiled, but the unease in her heart remained. As they approached, the figure’s face became clearer—a weathered but kind expression framed by a hood. When the figure finally spoke, their voice was soft, almost reverent.

“You’ve been waiting, haven’t you?” The words were simple, but they sent a shiver down Annabeth’s spine.

She nodded, heart racing. The journey was beginning.