Chapter 3 - The Key That Wouldn’t Behave

The morning began like any other in Wynthorne: the toll of the bell, the chatter of gulls, and the smell of salt and bread wafting through the crooked streets. But for Victoria, everything felt different.

Because the silver key she had found on her windowsill the night before was no longer on her desk where she had left it.

It was floating.

Hovering inches above the wood, spinning lazily in the air as if it weighed no more than a feather.

Victoria rubbed her eyes. “Oh no. Not today. I am not hallucinating before breakfast.”

The key wobbled, almost indignantly, then zipped forward in a flash of silver light. Victoria yelped, ducking as it darted past her ear and straight out the open window.

“Wait! “Come back!” she hissed, scrambling after it. She nearly tripped on her boots, crashed into the doorframe, and stumbled into the street still half in her nightgown.

The villagers were already bustling about: fishmongers setting out their catch, children chasing each other with sticks, and the baker slamming trays of bread onto a counter. And in the middle of it all—glowing faintly in the morning sun—floated the key.

It bobbed innocently in the air until Victoria lunged for it. Then, as if mocking her, it zipped just out of reach.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” she muttered, leaping again. She crashed headfirst into a basket of apples. The fruit spilt everywhere, rolling across the cobblestones while the vendor shouted, “Arwen, girl! Have you lost your mind?”

Selena appeared just in time to see Victoria’s legs sticking out of the apple pile. She doubled over laughing. “Please tell me this is your new strategy for blending in. Because if so, you’re doing terribly.”

“It’s not funny!” Victoria scrambled to her feet, brushing apple skins from her gown. “There’s—there’s a thing!”

Anthony strolled up behind Selena, munching on a stolen roll as usual. “A thing? That’s specific.” His eyes followed her frantic pointing, and his smirk faltered just slightly when he caught the glimmer of silver.

The key fob bobbed higher, then shot down the street like a startled bird.

“See?!” Victoria cried, bolting after it.

What followed was nothing short of chaos.

The key darted through market stalls, weaving between baskets of fish and hanging laundry. Victoria stumbled after it, Selena shrieking as she tried not to get her dress caught on a hook, and Anthony laughing so hard he could barely keep up.

At one point, the key zipped straight through a tower of cabbages, sending them tumbling like bowling balls. Victoria skidded on the leaves and landed flat on her back. The key hovered above her face for a moment, as if smug, then zipped away again.

“I hate it,” she groaned, scrambling upright. “It’s taunting me.”

Selena, gasping with laughter, clutched her side. “Oh, it’s perfect. A magical flying spoon would have suited you better, but this—this is priceless.”

Anthony’s grin was wider than ever, but his eyes stayed sharp. “Victoria… that’s not normal. Keys don’t float, and they definitely don’t chase people.”

Victoria froze at his words. It was the first time someone had said aloud what she had been too afraid to admit: this wasn’t just her imagination. The dreams, the whispers, the feeling of being different—now they had taken shape. A silver, runaway shape that refused to leave her alone.

The chase ended at the edge of the square. The key slowed, hovering in front of the old fountain. It gleamed brighter now, the runes along its shaft shifting like ripples on water. Victoria approached carefully, heart pounding.

“Please,” she whispered under her breath. “Just stop.”

The key pulsed once with light, then dropped neatly into her outstretched hand as if it had been waiting for her to say it.

Selena blinked. “Well. That was anticlimactic.”

Anthony studied the key, his grin replaced by something more thoughtful. “Whatever that thing is, Vee, it chose you.”

Victoria closed her fingers around it, feeling the cool metal press against her palm. For the first time since the dreams began, she wasn’t just different. She was marked.

And though she tried to laugh it off, deep inside she knew—this was only the beginning.

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