“Young one,” an angelic voice would call out. “Now is not the time to sleep….”

Astrid groaned, mumbling something that sounded like ‘five more minutes’ before rolling onto her right side.

“Astrid Cassandra Lavigne,” it said again. “If you wish not to die, then awake now.”

Startled by the mention of her full name, the teenager opened her eyes, expecting the voice to be her imagination from sleep deprivation. Instead of the bookshelves of an abandoned library, she was face-to-face with a strange land that shouldn’t be real. A river that separated her from a domain consumed by destruction and an endless thunderstorm.

“The Nightmare Realm,” the same voice from moments ago whispered. “The birthplace of all things evil.”

Astrid had forced herself into a sitting position, focusing on something in the distance. Several voices called out to her, though one was louder than the others.

‘Do not trust her, chosen one,’ it would say. ‘Not all citizens of Avalon are true to their word…’

The shadowy figure on the other side of the river vanished, and so did the strange voice. Snapping out of her daze, Astrid looked over to her right and finally took notice of the being next to her.

The woman had golden-blonde hair and an average complexion, her eyes a silvery-blue. She seemed almost normal, if you didn’t notice the giant wings that were attached to her back, or the circular halo floating above her head.

“You’re… an angel?” Astrid blurted out without thinking.

The stranger laughed, and even that sounded otherworldly.

“Of course I am, child,” she replied. “What else would I be? A faerie, perhaps? A shapeshifter?”

“From what I’ve read, I don’t think faeries have halos, and shapeshifters aren’t necessarily on team good.”

Astrid was nervous. How could she not be? The last thing she remembered was falling asleep in a library in the middle of a huge storm. Maybe I’m dreaming, she’d say to herself. It’s impossible to be transported to another world…

“Young one, I know you are not from here,” the angel told her. “It was said that someday, a child would discover what had been lost to time and seek shelter there from a danger like no other.”

“You know about the Library?” the girl said, confused. “Wait… don’t tell me that it’s a-”

“An enchanted sanctuary, yes,” she replied. “It is one of the last archives in the realm of mortals.”

“What do you mean by archive?”

“Sanctuaries like your library hold thousands of worlds within its walls. Each… book, as you might call them, hold an entire world or universe inside its pages. When someone discovers a sanctuary, even by accident, some of the worlds will call out to the individual for help.”

“So… I was technically kidnapped?”

“Not kid-napped, child. You were summoned in a time of need.”

“Then why was I summoned here?” Astrid asked. “Everything seems fine to me, except for the weird voices and the shadows on the other side of that river.”

The angel stared at the teenager, as if something took her by surprise.

“What kind of voices, child?”

Astrid hesitated. I don’t think I should tell her about the warning, she’d note. I can’t trust anyone here yet.

“They’re all talking at once, so I can’t understand what any of them are saying,” she said half truthfully.

The woman sighed with relief.

“That’s perfectly normal.”

“Perfectly normal? In my world, people would lock you up in a mental hospital if you said that you were hearing voices in your head.”

“The mortal realm doesn’t have a strong belief in magic anymore, I’m sad to say. However, in a world like Avalon, hearing the voices are common.”

“I haven’t even asked you your name,” Astrid said, changing the topic. Something about the voices being normal didn’t settle quite well with her.

“Seraphina, daughter of the Archangel Michael.”