Bramblewylde 

Secrets Beyond the Glen

Bramblewylde, had always been hidden.

Beyond its crooked bridges and lantern-lit paths, past the cottages tucked beneath roots and bramble, stood the ancient Bramble Veil. No one could remember when it had grown there. Everyone knew only that it marked the edge of their world, and that sensible folk left it well alone.

Tilli had every intention of being sensible.

She was simply going to look.

Tuck, padding reluctantly behind her, knew better.

Deep within the tangled bramble, Tilli found something that should not have been there: a narrow opening between two ancient roots. Beyond it, the woodland seemed familiar, yet strangely different. The air smelled of heather and pine, and somewhere in the distance a robin called.

“Just a little further,” whispered Tilli.

Tuck sighed.

Together they slipped through.

Neither saw the little robin watching from the branches above.

Neither knew that his name was Rowan, or that beyond those trees stood the Great Mother of Thistle Glen, ancient and watchful.

But before the day was over, Tilli would return to Bramblewylde carrying a single rowan berry in her pocket...

...and the certainty that the Bramble Veil had never been the end of their world.

It was only the beginning.

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