"The biggest adventure you can take is to live the life of your dreams."

  Oprah Winfrey

  The cave was eerily quiet. The sounds of their footfalls bounced off the narrow walls and caused drops of moisture to fall from the stalactites high above. It was musty and damp, an unpleasant scent that reminded Milly of the crawl-space beneath her foster home, accessible through a hidden panel in her tiny closet. She used to hide down there on the worst of nights, when her foster father was deep into the bottle. Her secret spot for when he came looking for her.

  Or after he was finished with me...

  Milly grew anxious at the memory as dark thoughts pressed inward. She released another globe of gentle flame and floated it up to the ceiling, her fire and telekinesis working in tandem to light the path forward. She held another in her palm as she carefully stepped over the rocky, uneven path.

  “Xavier, where are you?” Milly shouted, her voice bouncing off the walls as it echoed down the cave. There was no response.

  “How can he even see where he is going?” Calista said gruffly, still angry at Xavier. She rubbed her palms, the skin healed but tender.

  They hadn't seen a trace of him since they entered the cave. Not a single footprint along the path they travelled.

  “The echo ended much earlier than before,” Rain observed “I wonder…”

  Rain moved ahead of Milly, gingerly stepping over the uneven ground, and bellowed down the narrow corridor.

  “Number five! Your order is up!”

  Milly and Calista looked at Rain with confusion, and Rain raised her palm to compel them to stay silent. She listened to the words as they echoed off the walls, until they came to an abrupt stop a short distance ahead of them.

  “There's something soaking up the echoes,” Rain concluded, resuming her careful steps.

  “Maybe it's Number Five,” teased Calista.

  Rain giggled. “Dad used to put me behind the counter at our butcher shop. He said I had the biggest lungs and most unignorable bellow out of everyone in the family.”

  Her voice broke as she remember her family.

  “I miss him. I miss all of them,” she sniffed. “Mom. Dad. My eight annoying brothers. All of them. We need to win this Contest so we can go back home. So I can see them again.”

  “We will, Rain,” Calista comforted. “We're going to survive this.”

  “I hope so. You must miss your family too, Calista,” Rain said supportively.

  “Oh… um… I’ve… been on my own for a while now,” Calista replied hesitantly. “Mom left us when I was three. Dad died when I was in high school. I lived with my aunt and uncle after that, but I haven't been back to visit much since I left for the city. I... I doubt they even know I'm missing."

  “I’m sorry Calista. That must have been hard.” Rain said, sympathetically.

  Calista didn't answer. Their voices had stopped echoing off the cave walls. The passage ahead was filled with a deep darkness, and the light from Milly’s orbs diminished with each step.

  Milly reached forward and grasped Calista’s hand.

  “In case we get lost,” Milly awkwardly explained, feeling comforted by Calista’s hand in hers. She could feel where she had healed the cuts across Calista’s palm, and gently rubbed her finger across the tender skin. “How does it feel?”

  “It hurts a bit,” Calista said softly, reaching out and grasping Rain’s hand to form a chain. “But it would've been much worse without you.”

  “I’ll give you another dose of healing when we get back tonight,” Milly promised.

  Her flames above flickered in the darkness, growing weaker.

  “I don’t want to be a burden on you,” Calista worried. “I don’t want... like Xavier, only using you for… abilities.”

  “I know you are not like that,” Milly replied, but something was wrong. Calista’s voice had started to fracture, as if her words were being absorbed into the darkness around them.

  “Where are… harder to see…” said Rain’s, muffled and increasingly distant despite their close proximity.

  The darkness swallowed more of their light.

  “Rain… what do… see ahead…” Calista asked anxiously.

  Milly could feel Calista’s hand in hers, but it was growing numb. She struggled to see more than a step in front of her.

  “… head… can’t… go back…”

  Was that Calista or Rain? I can't tell anymore. Everything is so distorted.

  Milly tried to squeeze Calista's hand, but she coudn't feel it anymore.

  “… feeling gone… where are you?”

  Why is my hand numb? It's not cold in here. Maybe if I...

  Milly flexed her fingers, but when they closed again her grasp fell on empty air.

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  “Calista? Rain?” Milly called, but her words were soaked into the walls like a sponge.

  She spun around, completely engulfed in the darkness. Her heart pounded, but even the sound of it in her ears was lost. She felt as if the walls were closing in around her, and panic overcame bravery. She tried to scream, but even that was muted before it ever passed her lips.

  The world faded away, and Milly's world became the darkness.

  * * *

  “Ms. Desjarlais, this would be a very risky business loan for us. The reality is most restaurants, especially coffee shops, go bankrupt within their first year. And it is the bank that is left holding the bill.”

  “Wha…. what?” Rain stammered, confused.

  Rain found herself sitting in a small office, its frosted glass walls giving off both a welcoming and imposing aesthetic. She was wearing her nicest dress, and clutched a folder stuffed with a mix of tea recipes and financial calculations.

  “I know this place…” she muttered. “Wasn’t I just… what was I doing?”

  “Are you feeling well, Ms. Desjarlais? We can do this another time if you are ill."

  The woman across the desk from her was elderly and skinny as a rake, with thick glasses and a kindly demeanor.

  “That’s right…” Rain whispered. “She's dad’s banker. Mrs. Greene. Dad set this meeting up. I have to convince her to give me this loan to start Rain On My Parade. It’s my last chance. Why so I feel so…”

  “Rain,” Mrs. Greene said with concern. “I can give Hank a call to pick you up if…”

  “No!” Rain blurted out. “Sorry, Mrs. Greene. I guess I’m just nervous. Opening this coffee shop is my dream. I have spent ten years fighting for it. I've saved every penny, and I have everything planned out.”

  She held up her folder to show off the neatly sorted paperwork.

  “Rain, you barely have enough to cover six month’s rent at the Castle of Glass. You have no personal collateral. Yet you are here asking for fifty thousand dollars. Even if I could give it to you, is this really what you want? To set up shop in some third-rate office tower? I know your father wants you to join the family business. Meet for Meat is thriving, and he'll needs the help as he gets older.”

  Rain shook her head. She needed to follow her own dream, not adopt the dreams of her parents. She loved tea and coffee. She loved experimenting with her own brews and drawing a smile out of even the most gloomy of customers, and she was good at it. No, she was great at it.

  “I want this, Mrs. Greene. I have never wanted anything more in my entire life,” Rain insisted.

  Mrs. Greene sighed. “Well, you can't blame an old woman for trying. Look, Rain, I'll be honest with you. No bank will touch you. You're a smart young woman with a dream - a dream you believe in - but the numbers aren't there. Without collateral, it's just too big of a risk.”

  Rain felt her heart sink, her dreams shattering with every word.

  “However,” continued Mrs. Greene after a reluctant pause. She pulled out a contract, and Rain recognized her father’s signature at the bottom of the page. “Your father said if I wasn't able to convince you to do the sensible thing, that he would put up your family’s butcher’s shop up as collateral for you.”

  Rain swallowed. “Dad… did that for me?”

  “He did. I advised against it. It is a huge risk. Are you sure you want to take it Rain? If you do, it will have ramifications far beyond the four walls of Rain On My Parade.”

  Rain stared at the contract. Her hopes and dreams lay within those pages. A thousand thoughts ran through her mind, weighing the possibilities and risks. The past decade of planning had led up to this moment. Yet, would she really put their entire family’s livelihood at risk just for her own dreams?

  A memory tugged at her subconsciousness.

  Why does this all feel so familar?

  She looked up from the page and was drawn to the painting behind Mrs. Greene. It was surreal in its detail. A cave of pure darkness, forked in two. One path leading to a shining field, and the other to a graveyard. The image was haunting and made the hair on her arms stand on end.

  Why can't I remember?

  “Just take the deal, Rain,” Rain told herself. “Dad… dad wouldn’t have bet the family livelihood without believing in me, right? Just sign, and that perfect little space in the Castle of Glass will be yours.”

  The Castle of Glass. There is something in the name. Something dangerous.

  Mrs. Greene reached for the contract and started to pull it away. “If you don't sign, you won't go to the Castle of Glass. You can work in your family’s butcher shop. You may not achieve your dreams, but you will be safe. You will see them again. Isn’t that what you want? To be safe? To be back home?”

  Rain let her gaze fall from the painting to Mrs. Green. Only it wasn’t Mrs. Green anymore.

  In her place sat a young man, fair and tall with curly blond hair. He wore a red and gold tunic, and gave off a faint, radiant light. He appeared regal - more than regal - imposing yet curious.

  Her memories flooded back like an oncoming tide. Milly. Calista. The Castle of Glass. The God Contest. Her eyes grew wide as she stared down at the contract before her.

  The man handed her a pen. Only it wasn't a pen. It was a dagger made from black obsidian, with an ornate handle of bronze and a hundred minuscule carvings of various plants and animals engraved in silver.

  How could I have forgotten it all?

  The young man leaned forward until he was eye to eye with Rain and spoke. His voice was deep and melodic, with a power that transcended the mortal realm.

  Your dreams come in many forms, and the dream you find may not be the one you pursued. When dreams must change, some run from the challenge, and some embrace it. I offer you a choice, Rain Desjarlais. Sign the contract and accept the new dream. Return to the God Contest. Or walk away. Give up on the dream and live your days safe in your father’s butcher shop, content but unfulfilled.

  She stared silently at the contract for a long time, the dagger clutched tightly in her hand. Scenarios played through her mind - snippets of the life she could lead.

  She should walk away. Every instinct within her told her to walk away. To return to her family. To live a comfortable life. She would get married, have kids, grow old. Cut and sell meat day in and day out until she was too old to stand, and then let the slow march of age take her away.

  Her dream long forgotten.

  Rain raised her head from the page.

  “What is the point of living as a shadow of myself?” Rain asked. “I could live to be a century old, and still not have truly lived a single day.”

  Rain placed the dagger on her palm and made a shallow cut. Her blood dripped down onto the contract. “I choose to follow my dream.”

  The man chuckled, holding up a ballpoint pen with a sly smile. Ink would have sufficed, but I appreciate your commitment to the drama.

  He placed a long, bony finger in the space next to where her blood fell.

  I, Manifestation of Lugh Samildànach, of the Celtic pantheon, he who is skilled in many arts, God of trade, and merchants, hereby witness and bind your choice in this most holiest of contests.

  The words appeared in gold lettering on the page as he spoke, flaring like the sun. As he finished, the contract dissolved into a fine dust and spiraled into the painting behind the Manifestation, though Rain could not see which of the two paths the dust had taken.

  Your decision is made, Rain Desjarlais. You are bound to the God Contest until you see its end, or an end finds you. I leave you with this advice. Those who last in the Contest are those that embrace both the potential that it brings, and the potential they already have inside. Meld the two together, and you should find victory in the end. Never be afraid to follow your dreams, wherever it may take you.

  “Thank you,” Rain said, handing back the dagger.

  The manifestation of Lugh Samildànach smiled.

  You have marked it as your own, Rain Desjarlais. Take it with you, and may it serve you well in the challenges that are to come.

  He turned his head to the sky and his voice boomed into the ether.

  The decision is made. This one shall fight to be a champion. May she find herself, at the end of the Contest, victorious.

  There was a blinding flash of white light, and Rain’s world faded away.

  The Non-Canonical Aftermath: