A cool night breeze filters through the window, stirring the wisps of hair that came loose from the tie used to hold them back after a night of tossing and turning. The gentle caress is enough to rouse me from my dreamless sleep. I scrunch up my nose and run a lazy hand over my face, trying to sooth the irritating tickle before it completely ruins my sleep.

The wind whistles as it blows through my open window once more, sounding almost as if it were breathing my name. A rueful smile finds its way onto my face. Only I would think the wind was talking to me. With a heaving sigh, I untangle myself from the blankets and pad across the night-chilled room to the gaping window. A mighty gust blows my dark hair back, knocking most of it out of its loose tie. Leaning into the wind, I wrap my fingers around the edge of the window and yank it shut. The room seems to warm a couple degrees as I throw the latch into place.

Spinning around, I begin to shuffle back to the warm embrace of my bed when a light breeze brushes past my ear, stirring my hair once more.

"Laila," the breeze seems to croon.

I whirl around, thinking that I must have left the window cracked by accident, but find the window sealed up tight. I frown and then let out a small, forced laugh.

"It's just the wind, Laila," I mutter under my breath, trying –and failing- to reassure myself. I consider slipping back into bed, but decide against it when another brush of wind against my skin has the hair on the back of my neck raising. Instead, I click on a lamp and sink down onto my desk chair.

On the desk rests the novel I'd started yesterday, something about an assassin and other general baddassery. I flip to the page I'd bookmarked the day before and begin to read. I don't get further than a couple of pages before that irritating breeze stirs my knotted hair once more.

"Laila," that impossible wind whispers. "Laila."

I stand up from the desk so fast the chair topples over behind me. I must be losing my mind, I think to myself, heart racing. There's no way this is happening. I look around the room with wide eyes in time to see the shadows darkening every corner begin to grow, crawling up the walls like taloned fingers. The longer I look the more the shadowy fingers seem to crook at me, bidding me to come closer.

"Who's there?" The words tumble clumsily out of my mouth. I wet my trembling lips, telling myself that there is nothing to be afraid of. My sleep deprived brain must be messing with me, making me see and hear things that aren't really there.

The shadows creep closer, looming over me. My heartbeat thunders in my ears, almost loud enough to drown out the next creeping whisper of my name that shudders across my eardrums. Opening my mouth to let out a frightened squeak, I leap backwards. Unfortunately for me, my foot lands on one of my sister's discarded dolls and I lose my balance. I fall quick and hard and just before my head hits the cold, unforgiving floor a thought drifts through my consciousness: I told Dawn not to play in my room.

**************************************************

When I open my eyes once more, I find myself on the floor of my room. Only, it's not quite my room anymore. There's a stillness to it now, a stillness that prevails despite the shadows that dance on the walls and the shimmering stars that have replaced my ceiling.

My breath catches in my throat as I stare in wonder at the sight before me. This must be a dream, I tell myself, though I've never dreamed up something so beautiful, so otherworldly before.

"Are you alright?" a lilting voice asks from behind me. "You took quite the spill."

Whipping around so fast that I nearly topple over for the second time that night, I search for the owner of the voice that'd taunted me from the wind. It takes a long moment for my eyes to focus in the strange darkness of the room, but when they do, I find myself squinting at a woman with blinding white hair and a dress made of stars.

I try not to gape, but my jaw drops open despite my wishes as my eyes travel over the otherworldly woman. Her uniquely brilliant blue eyes shine out from a face of smooth porcelain with a sort of terrible beauty that causes goosebumps to raise on my flesh. Those eyes focus on me with a knowing gaze that makes me feel unbearably exposed in my own bedroom.

I open my mouth to either answer her question or demand to know what she's doing in my house but all that comes out is air. I find myself at a loss of an intelligent thought, let alone the ability to form a decipherable sentence.

She smiles, exposing a set of perfectly blinding teeth, in an understanding manner, giving me a chance to compose myself. The act only leaves me with a greater feeling of inferiority. My head throbs in response. I shift uncomfortably, finally managing to get out a sharp, "who are you? What are you doing here?"

She only smiles and spreads her arms out in front of her.

"I have a gift for you." Her voice is smooth, soft.

Confusion floods my brain.

"A ... gift?" I ask slowly, brows furrowing. The concept is almost funny. What could this stranger possibly want to give me?

Instead of answering me or giving any hint as to what this "gift" is, the ethereal woman drapes herself across the foot of my bed, causing the stars of her gown of night to ripple. A soft sigh escapes between her parted lips, and a cool night breeze swirls around the room in response. Her impossibly white hair falls into her face as she leans forward and brushes a hand across an old stuffed bear an ex-boyfriend had given me years ago. A sad smile finds its way onto her face. Her eyes take on a glazed look as if she were somewhere far away. Then to spell breaks and she pulls her hand away, letting her hands fall into her star-laden lap.

"The gods are dying, Laila," she says, returning to her earlier cool facade. "I am dying. We have been deceived- "

She stops suddenly, curling her hands into fists. I get the distinct feeling that she's holding some back, something big. I wait for her to continue but she doesn't. Instead she smooths her already immaculate gown and locks her cool gaze on me. There is a millennium in her stare. So many lives lived so many stories untold swirl in those impossibly blue eyes. I drop my own gaze, unable to bear staring into the brilliant storm in her eyes any longer.

"I don't understand. What do you mean by gods? I ... What do I have to do with any of this?" I demand, mind reeling.

This has to be some sort of crazy dream, I think. There's no way this strange confrontation or this otherworldly human is real.

"I am very real, Laila," she says, answering my thoughts as if talking to a petulant child. "I do not expect you to believe me now, nor do I have the time to explain. Your journey has just begun. You will understand with time who you are and what you must do. For now, I leave you with this gift."

The woman extends her pale palm. In it is cradled an amulet on a silver chain. I reach out and take it, smoothing my thumb over the sleek surface of the gleaming stone. Surrounded by a handful of smaller stones, the one in the middle is unlike any stone I'd ever seen before. Like the gown she wears, the stone seems to be made of a piece of the night sky itself. Darkness swirls in its depths, but every once and a while the brilliant gleam of stars will break through the black. I cradle it gently in my hands, admiring its aching beauty.

"Thank you, but I still don't understand- "

"You will soon understand the truth, but now is not the time. All that you need to know now is that I have chosen you. You will have power like has never before been seen," she interrupts with a smooth certainty. Her voice is nonchalant, but her eyes are locked on me with an unwavering intensity that sends a chill down my spine.

I take a step back, determined to wake up from this strange dream, when the woman –goddess- flicks her hand in my direction. The amulet flies from its cradled position in my hands and latches itself around my neck.

Pain. Pain like a fire that burns as hot as the stars radiates from the spot on my chest where the amulet rests. I let out a ragged scream, clutching at the chain. I tug at it, willing the damned thing to get off, but the delicate chain refuses to break. I drop to my knees, screaming, "make it stop!"

I scrape my nails down my neck, trying in vain once again to rip the burning jewelry from my skin. Get it off, I scream internally. Make it stop. I can't take it.

My mind clouds over with agony as I let out another animalistic scream, begging her to please take the pain away. I'll do anything. My pleas go ignored, however. The woman merely looks on as I write in pain from the hell she's inflicted upon me.

"You will do great things, Laila," she says, unflinching in the face of my agony.

After uttering those words, she stands from my bed and disappears into the immense darkness of the room, leaving me spiraling into the abyss of pain and darkness.