Somewhere familiar. But why is it familiar?

She stood in the middle of a strange path, trees grown in lazy arcs. They formed a circle around the beaten dirt, the emerald grass reaching for her feet silently as she padded down towards the clearing. The wind was gentle, but cold, a crisp and icy reminder of her bared skin, blowing from the haven of who she had come to see. There, in the center, the woman stood, impossibly tall even on her knees as she leaned down and cupped her hands to the well. Drawing the water to her face, the woman sipped from it as crystalline drops, solid and perfectly spherical in their descent, dripped back to the glimmering well. It seemed no more shallow than before, and as she stared at it, it seemed to hunger for her, promising endless experience, something unknowable and alluring and eternal, if she would simply touch her lips to its surface. But the woman had taken pains not to.

“Iníon Cahan, cá bhfuil do chlaíomh??” the woman asked as she turned to her, eyes a glossy black she found hauntingly beautiful. The woman bowed her head, eyelids closing slowly, and the glimmer of the wellwater sparkled, pulsed, then consumed her entire field of vision.

“Miss McRose?” Chloe shot up at her desk, snapping out of her sleep. Most of Ms. Moreau’s senior literature class had turned their eyes to her, immediately drawing a deep red to her cheeks that almost matched the hair clasped in her neat ponytail.

“Yes?!” she responded, a bit more loudly than was appropriate. She heard a snort of laughter and was grateful to see it was Gavin, one of her oldest friends, rather than a stranger. While a few followed, it made it seem far more in good humor, letting her push down the burst of embarrassment.

“I was asking for a take on Goll mac Morna’s development as a character through the Fenian Cycle, do you have anything to add to that?” From another teacher, it may have sounded cruel, but Ms. Moreau was more than aware from the classes since they had begun on that work that Chloe honestly enjoyed old mythical cycles, especially ones from her family’s home country.

“Well, I mean, he’s an antagonist, an ally, a relative, then an antagonist again, but that’s not what’s interesting about him,” she answered, her head clearer now. “He’s missing an eye.”

“And its significance?”

“Storywise? He’s untrustworthy and his betrayal is inevitable. But it also speaks to the ableism present in Irish folklore from the period. One eye means he’s not whole, unworthy, less than human. It’s an excuse to find evil in him. Even if Fionn does wrong, it’s a way for his ancestors to point as Goll and say ‘look, you can’t trust HIS type.’ Goll MEANS one-eyed. Even with attempts at development, he can’t get a fair shake because he was saddled with cultural bias from his conception.”

“Which is a good point. If we don’t observe the prejudice in our stories, we don’t learn anything from them,” Ms. Moreau continued, turning her attention back to the class as a whole. As she proceeded to expand on the difference between propaganda and myth, and how unpleasantly thin it can be, Chloe sank back into her seat and tried her best to relax. This was getting too regular for her. She needed a good night’s sleep.

“Chloe?” Ms. Moreau called as the bell rang for lunch, beckoning her over to her desk. Chloe tensed, but came to her anyway. “Are you alright? You clearly put a lot of thought into the assignment, and you always do well in my class, but that’s the third time in two weeks I’ve had to wake you up.”

“I’m really sorry, Ms. Moreau,” Chloe said, wincing a little. “I just haven’t been sleeping well.”

“You’re not in trouble, Chloe,” she told her with a warm smile. “I just … you’re a bright, young woman, and if you need help with something, I wanted to remind you that I’m here. That’s all.”

“And thank you, for not getting me in trouble AND for worrying!” Chloe was doing her best to express her gratitude, given the next sentence would sound … troubled otherwise. “I just don’t know anyone who CAN help with this? Not, like, because it’s ruining me, just … you ever have a dream that makes you feel like you were up all night?” Her teacher nodded. “A lot of those lately.”

“I’d suggest a sleep therapist, personally, but it can be challenging to schedule on a student’s timetable,” she admitted. “I won’t hold you any longer, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Hopefully, they’ll pass soon.” Chloe nodded before leaving, but she somehow doubted it.

“What’s with the naptime?” Zack asked her as she sat down with him and Gavin in the cafeteria. “You conked in statistics last week, too.”

“Dreams. Nightmares. Whatever,” she answered with a sigh. “It’s nothing. What’s got you all pensive?” Zack was doing his best to hide it, but Chloe could tell from the rhythmic movement of his fingers on the wood veneer of the table that something was going on.

“Logan missed school today. And he hasn’t been answering my texts.” Zack checked his phone again to be sure immediately after speaking. “He’s usually pretty tuned-in.”

“Could be with Sharon,” Gavin offered. “If he’s skipping school for something, a girl would make most sense.”

“One, I saw her today already,” Zack corrected. “Two, that’s not a thing anymore. Something broke bad with them first week back. Haven’t seen Amber, though …”

“Boy moves quick,” Chloe chimed in with a small grin. “I’m sure he’s fine, Zack. Nothing to worry about. But if it makes you feel any better, we can check on him after school. Gav?”

“No dice. Library stuff,” he answered with a shrug. It was a bit strange to Chloe still, but he’d really been throwing himself into his volunteering over at Windhame Public Library lately. Sure, the IT department was woefully inadequate, but his mom had told her more than once when she swung by late on weekends that he was still taking care of things. “Pretty sure I saw Amber this morning, though.”

“Fuck,” Zack groaned. “The cheer squad’s been doing this whole wagon-circle thing lately, anyway; that makes sense.”

“Whhhhyyyyyyy?” Chloe asked slowly, staring at Zack while she did. From the nod Gavin gave the statement, she felt notably in the dark about something, which was a bit weird considering she’d been spending more time with some of the girls on the squad lately, like Ashley, Heather, and Madison.

“Well-.” As Zack spoke, shouting from the other end of the large room erupted, loud enough to pull attention all the way across. Zack shot up first, squinting, then let out a beleaguered sigh. “I think you’re about to get a 4-D answer to that …” As he moved forward, cutting through the forming crowd to reach the center of the conflict, Chloe and Gavin followed him, both far too curious to wonder if it was entirely the best move.