The Velvet Cradle of Everwood – Chapter One – The Hidden Portal
Eliot stared at the glowing numbers on the clock: 8:47 PM. Another day wasted in a blur of meetings, deadlines, and hollow small talk. His cramped apartment seemed to shrink around him, walls pressing inward like a slow, invisible vice. No calls from friends, no one to check in on him. Just the steady hum of the fridge and the sharp pang of loneliness in his chest.
He sighed and grabbed his jacket. Anything was better than suffocating here. Maybe a walk could quiet the storm in his head.
The summer air was warm, the streets half-lit by old yellow lamps. Eliot didn’t have a destination in mind; he just let his feet wander. His usual route took him past the downtown shops, but tonight, his steps slowed as he noticed something… odd.
A small alley he never remembered seeing before.
Curiosity tugged at him. Tucked between two abandoned buildings was a crooked wooden sign:
“Willow’s Nook – Rare Books & Curiosities”
Eliot blinked. There had never been a bookstore here.
He pushed open the worn blue door, and the bell above jingled softly. The air inside was thick with the scent of old paper, lavender, and something sweet—like warm milk and honey. The shelves seemed to go on forever, curling around cozy reading nooks and dusty globes. It felt timeless.
“Hello?” he called softly.
No answer.
Drawn deeper, Eliot’s fingers traced spines of strange, leather-bound volumes. His eyes caught on a shimmering object tucked between two thick tomes. It was a mirror—no, not quite a mirror. A tall, freestanding frame with glass that pulsed faintly like moonlight on water.
A gentle whisper floated to his ears:
“You don’t have to be strong all the time…”
His heart thudded. He stepped closer, fingertips brushing the cool glass. The reflection rippled like a pond, showing not the bookstore behind him, but a soft, glowing forest. Birds chirped faintly. He could almost feel a breeze, scented with wildflowers and… something comforting. Like a warm blanket.
A small, handwritten sign leaned against the frame:
“Everwood awaits those in need of comfort.”
His throat tightened. Comfort. He couldn’t remember the last time he truly felt safe, nurtured… loved.
He pressed his palm to the surface, and it swallowed his hand like water. Eliot hesitated, glancing back at the lonely bookstore. A few hesitant steps, or another night staring at peeling wallpaper?
His choice was made.
With a steadying breath, Eliot stepped through.
The sensation was like sinking into a warm bath. The world around him blurred, his worries peeling away layer by layer like an old, tight shirt.
When his eyes opened, Eliot gasped.
He stood in a meadow surrounded by towering, glistening trees. A gentle river babbled nearby, dragonflies flitting through the air. The sky overhead was a gentle pink, clouds swirling lazily. It felt like spring—soft, endless spring.
Grass cushioned his bare feet. Wait—bare feet?
Eliot looked down and blinked. His jeans and t-shirt were gone, replaced by soft linen pants and a light tunic embroidered with tiny flowers. Even stranger, he felt lighter… not just physically, but emotionally, as if someone had taken a heavy pack off his shoulders.
“Awake already, little one?” a kind voice called.
Eliot turned. A woman stood nearby, her long golden hair braided down her back. Her eyes were soft, like morning sunlight through leaves, and her smile was pure warmth. She wore a flowing dress with simple sandals, and a woven basket hung from her arm.
Eliot opened his mouth, but no words came out. She walked closer, crouching slightly, her presence calm and motherly.
“Shhh… it’s alright, sweetheart,” she cooed, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “You’ve traveled far, haven’t you? Poor thing.”
A lump caught in Eliot’s throat, and against his will, his lower lip trembled.
The woman—Liora—wrapped her arms gently around him. The hug wasn’t rushed or half-hearted; it was soft, enveloping, like the very earth beneath his feet was embracing him.
“Let it out, little one,” she whispered, rocking him gently. “You’re safe here. Everwood takes care of those who need love.”
A quiet sob escaped his throat. Eliot’s hands clung to her, feeling strangely small and helpless—but it wasn’t scary. It was… relief.
After a moment, Liora cupped his cheeks, her thumbs gently wiping the tears away.
“Come along, baby,” she smiled. “Your cozy place awaits.”
They walked through the soft meadow, Liora holding his hand firmly but kindly. Birds chirped overhead, their melodies bright but not overwhelming. Tiny creatures peeked from under mushrooms, chittering curiously. Eliot felt himself relax, his steps slowing, shoulders softening. The world here hummed with a soothing rhythm he didn’t want to resist.
Soon, they reached a wooden cottage nestled among flowering bushes. Smoke curled lazily from the chimney, and a wooden sign over the door read: “The Cradle Cottage.”
Liora led him inside. The interior was pure comfort—glowing hearth, plush rugs, shelves lined with picture books and plush toys, soft pastels on the walls. A large rocking chair sat by the window, cushions thick and inviting.
“Come, little one,” Liora murmured, patting the chair. “Let’s get you cozy.”
Eliot barely hesitated. He climbed into the chair, curling against her as she sat and began to rock. Her hand stroked his hair, fingers threading through with practiced ease.
“You’ve been brave for so long, sweet boy,” she whispered. “But here… here you don’t have to be. You’re safe. You’re cherished.”
The lump returned to Eliot’s throat, but this time, it felt like something soft and warm swelling inside him.
“Welcome home, baby,” Liora whispered, placing a gentle kiss to his temple.
The End of The Velvet Cradle of Everwood – Chapter One
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