Before Everything Changed
Episode One: Hide and Seek
As many of you know, Of Ash and Prayer has moved into its next stage.
The first draft is complete, and while I work through edits and gather feedback from beta readers, I wanted to keep sharing pieces of the world with you.
From this week onward, I’ll be releasing short, episodic scenes set within Elariel’s and Tharian’s worlds—moments that sit alongside the main story, building out characters, places, and the quieter edges of what’s to come.
This series is going to be called “Before Everything Changed.”
Posts will now be twice weekly, on Wednesdays and Fridays.
And to begin, I’m releasing the first episode now.
This is the first episode in the Before Everything Changed series.
Hide and Seek
“Come here, hen,” I called as I stepped into the living room. The coal fire was already going, crackling low and steady, sending the occasional spark whispering up the chimney. I had been living with Gran for a couple of years by then, helping where I could, though more often than not that meant being reminded what I’d forgotten.
“Mind,” she said without looking up, “bring two pails up. No jist the yin.”
“Aye, Granny, ah’ll dae that for ye.” I paused at the doorway, glancing back toward the hall. “By the way, huv ye seen Saoirse? Ah called for her, but she never answered.”
“Aye, son,” she replied, settling her hands in her lap. “She’s wi’ her mum. They’ll be back for their dinner.”
It did not take long to fill the pails. Three shovels each was enough, and once they were full, I lifted one in each hand and made my way back upstairs, taking the steps more carefully this time.
“Put them in the middle cupboard,” Gran said, glancing over her shoulder. “We’ve got plenty o’ coal on the fire the noo.”
“Nae bother,” I replied, setting them down where she had pointed. “Dae ye want me tae get some o’ the sticks ye’ve got here?”
“No,” she said, already moving toward the hearth. “That’s the kindlin’. Ah need that fur the mornin’.”
She took up the poker and gave the fire a couple of sharp jabs, each strike sending a scatter of sparks up the chimney, brief flashes of light against the soot-dark stone. “We’ve got plenty o’ heat in there yet,” she added, studying the flames, “and if am right, the water should be hot enough for a bath before bed.”
I nodded, letting the warmth of the room settle for a moment before the sound of footsteps broke through it—quick, uneven, and unmistakable. Before long, I heard the familiar patter on the stairs.
“Granny, we’re here for dinner. What did ye make?” Liara called as they came up from below.
“Some mince and tatties,” Gran answered, her voice carrying easily through the house, “and we’ll huv some fresh pie after.”
“Uncky Tharian, can we play?” Saoirse asked, already turning toward me before I had the chance to answer.
I glanced back toward the kitchen. “How long until dinner’s ready, Granny?”
“Probably half an hour,” she replied. “Yeh’ve got time fur yin game.”
That was all Saoirse needed. “Come on,” she said, grabbing at my sleeve, already pulling me toward the door. “Let’s go and play.”
I let myself be dragged along, taking the stairs two at a time as we went back down, the rhythm of the house carrying me forward without thought. Behind me, her smaller steps followed as best they could, quick at first, then faltering.
“Slow down,” she called, her voice trailing just enough to tell me she’d fallen behind. “I can’t keep up with you.”
I slowed, glancing back over my shoulder as she reached the last few steps, slightly out of breath but grinning all the same, as though the effort had only made the game more real.
“Right then,” I said. “Ye’re countin’.”
I backed away slowly and carefully, making my way toward the wall at the back of the garden. It wasn’t high—barely more than a few feet—and over the past year, I had taken to teaching her how to climb it, how to balance along the top without losing her footing. At four years old, she had taken to it quickly, far quicker than I had expected.
Beyond the wall lay a small stretch of trees, uneven and scattered, the kind of place that never quite deserved the name she had given it.
“The forest.”
It was not dense enough to be that, not truly, but I had never found it in me to correct her.
I waited there a moment, listening, until her voice carried out behind me, bright and certain.
“Ready or not, here I come!”
I moved then, slipping along the edge of the wall before dropping down into the trees, keeping low as I went. It did not take long to find a place where I could see without being seen, a narrow line between two trunks that gave me just enough of the garden to watch her search.
She checked the bushes first, quick and determined, then moved behind the sheds, peering into corners with a seriousness that far outweighed the game itself. I watched her circle back, her gaze lifting toward the wall as she paused, considering.
Then she stepped forward and began to climb.
I felt a small flicker of satisfaction at that. She had learned well.
Knowing she was on the right track, I moved again, easing further into the trees, careful with each step, mindful of the ground beneath my feet. The air shifted slightly as I went, the sounds of the house growing quieter behind me, replaced by the softer rustle of leaves and the faint movement of branches overhead.
It did not take long to find a fallen log, its trunk hollowed and dark along one side, just enough to break my outline if I stayed low. I settled behind it, steadying my breath, listening as her footsteps drew nearer.
Then I heard it.
Two small feet landing on the other side of the wall.
Immediately, the hairs along my arms stood on end. There had always been something about waiting to be caught that unsettled me, a quiet tension that settled beneath the skin and refused to ease, no matter how many times the game had been played.
“I’m coming for you,” Saoirse called, her voice carrying lightly through the trees as she moved through the grass, the dry leaves beneath her feet crunching with each step. Each one drew closer than the last, measured and deliberate, until I knew she was somewhere above me, just beyond the cover of the fallen log.
I held still, steadying my breath, listening.
That was when I felt it.
A warmth at the back of my neck, close enough to be mistaken for breath, though there was no sound to accompany it. No footstep on the leaves, no shift of weight, no presence that could be placed or understood. Only the feeling of something there, where nothing should have been.
I did not move.
I did not look.
I waited.
“I found you,” Saoirse said, her voice bright with triumph as she came around the edge of the log, her grin wide and unguarded.
The sound of her voice broke the moment cleanly, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding as I pushed myself up. I brushed the dirt from my hands and turned, glancing back toward the hollow behind the log.
It was empty.
Just shadow. Just the same hollowed wood I had slipped behind moments before, undisturbed.
“Did you see where I was?” she asked, already moving around me, too excited to stand still, as though the game had never paused at all.
“Aye,” I said, giving a small nod. “Ye were close.”
“I knew it,” she said at once, satisfied with that alone, before reaching for my hand. “Again.”
I hesitated, though only for a moment, then let her pull me away from the trees, back toward the wall, the game already starting over in her mind as though nothing had interrupted it.
We moved out into the open again, the sounds of the house settling back around us, the quiet of the trees falling away behind us.
I didn’t look back at first.
When I finally did, it was only for a second, a quick glance toward the place where I had been hiding.
There was nothing there.
I told myself it had been nothing.
Still, I kept closer to the wall the next time we played.
“I knew it,” she said at once, pleased with herself, before reaching for my hand. “Again.”
I hesitated for a moment, then let her pull me away from the trees, back toward the wall, the game already starting over in her head as though nothing had interrupted it.
We moved out into the open again, the sounds of the house settling back around us, the quiet of the trees falling behind.
I didn’t look back straight away.
When I did, it was only for a second.
There was nothing there.
I told myself that was all it had been.
Still, I found I stayed closer to the wall the next time we played.
Next episode: something quieter… but not entirely safe.