There are moments that divide your life into a before and an after. For me, it was the morning two deer walked out of the woods and into my field. Their presence was different from any wildlife I’d ever encountered. They were serene and focused, and the smaller one looked at me not with animal fear, but with a deep, knowing calm. A strange sense of recognition passed between us, a silent communication that told me their appearance was anything but accidental. They had come for a reason, and that reason was me.
After I took a picture, trying to ground the moment in normality, the smaller deer moved closer. It carried a small object wrapped in dark cloth, which it left for me at the fence line. With trembling hands, I uncovered an old wooden box. Inside lay a silver locket, cool to the touch and covered in symbols I had never seen. Each curve and line felt like a word from a forgotten language, and a shiver ran down my spine. This was a message, but from whom, or what, I could not guess.
Then, the deer turned and led me into the woods. I followed without hesitation, drawn by a curiosity stronger than fear. The air grew still and cool as we entered a hidden clearing centered by an oak tree that felt older than time itself. And then, my guides were gone, melting away into the forest as if they were made of mist. I was left alone in a pocket of profound silence.
It was then that I noticed the disturbed soil at the base of the oak. Kneeling, I uncovered a stone tablet etched with the same mysterious symbols. Beneath it, a parchment offered its cryptic instruction: “For the one who is chosen: The truth is not simple. Follow the signs. This is only the beginning.” Slipping the locket into my pocket, I understood. This was not an end, but a threshold. The world was far more mysterious than I had ever dreamed, and I had just been invited to see it.
