Nimue's Arc

Chapter 1 of 4

Nimue stood at the edge of the cliff, her long blonde hair whipping in the wind. She stared up at the empty sky where her sister had vanished years ago. The Hidden Realm had taken her, pulled her through a tear in the air that closed before Nimue could follow. Now she planned to build a bridge upward, impossible as it seemed. She turned from the cliff and walked down the narrow path toward the valley. Her workshop waited there, a structure she'd spent months preparing. Glass panels formed the roof and walls, letting sunlight pour inside. Green vines crawled up wooden shelves that held bottles and tools. Plants grew in every corner, their leaves touching glass jars filled with colored liquids. This place would hold everything she needed. She would mix elements here, test materials, and figure out how to make stone float. The bridge would start as an idea in this room. Then it would become real, reaching up through the clouds to where her sister waited. The next problem was simple but hard. She needed to move heavy stones from the quarry to her workshop. Walking back and forth would take years. Nimue remembered the old chariot she'd found in a cave last winter. Its wooden frame showed carved patterns that spiraled and crossed. Two large cats lived near her workshop, wild but calm. She'd fed them scraps of fish for months. Today she walked to where they rested in the grass. She held out dried meat. The cats stood and followed her to the chariot. She fit the harness over their shoulders. They pulled without fighting. The chariot rolled smooth across the dirt. Now she could bring the stones she needed. The bridge would begin soon. But moving stones was only part of the work. She needed to understand the wind. A bridge that tall would face storms she'd never felt on the ground. Nimue climbed to the workshop roof and set up a weather vane. Its metal surface showed the same spiral patterns as the chariot. She mounted it on a tall pole and watched it spin. The wind pushed from the east today, steady and strong. She would place more vanes at different heights as the bridge grew. Each one would tell her what the wind did up there. Her sister waited somewhere above the clouds. Nimue would reach her, one stone at a time.