Burning Beneath

The Fabergé egg gleamed in Sam’s hands, its beauty beyond anything she had ever seen. The intricate design seemed to defy logic, a gilded city encased in a single oval shell. Spires reached toward an invisible sky, tiny windows reflected shimmering rainbows, and streets—no wider than threads—wound their way across its surface. She could feel its pulse, a rhythm like a heartbeat, as if it were alive.

She tilted the egg, catching the light from different angles, and marveled at the way the windows and doors seemed to shift. She thought she saw movement behind one of the tiny windows—a flicker of life, maybe a figure.

Her finger hovered over a small golden window, curiosity bubbling within her. It was beautiful, but why stop at looking?

Sam pressed the edge of the window, and it opened with a satisfying click.

A rush of wind surrounded her, warm and inviting, pulling her in. She didn’t resist; how could she? The next thing she knew, she was no longer holding the egg—she was inside it.

The city was magnificent.

Golden streets stretched in all directions, branching off like the roots of a great tree. Each path led to something new: towering castles made of crystal, markets bustling with creatures she had never imagined, and gardens blooming with flowers that shimmered like stardust. The air was alive with music and laughter, blending into a melody that soothed her restless mind.

Sam took a deep breath, savoring the sweetness of the air. This wasn’t a puzzle to solve or a mystery to unravel. It was a world to explore.

She walked to the nearest door, its handle shaped like a tiny dragon. Without hesitation, she turned it.

Beyond the door, she found herself on a floating gondola gliding through an emerald-green sky. Below her, waterfalls cascaded from floating islands, their waters vanishing into mist. A gentle breeze carried the scent of something familiar yet unplaceable, like a memory she couldn’t quite grasp.

The gondola brought her to a landing, where a stairway of glass spiraled upward. She climbed it, her steps soundless, until she reached another door at the top. This one was painted with swirling colors that seemed to shift as she looked at them.

When she opened it, she entered a library unlike any she had ever seen. The shelves stretched infinitely, holding not books, but glowing orbs. Each one contained a moment, a story, a dream. She picked one at random and held it up. It hovered in her hand, glowing faintly, before bursting into a kaleidoscope of light.

She was suddenly standing on a beach of golden sand, the waves shimmering in hues of violet and silver. Children with translucent wings ran past her, their laughter filling the air. She felt weightless, the burden of her thoughts melting away.

Sam laughed, truly laughed, as she ran after the winged children. She jumped through a wave, and the water transformed into a curtain of stars, depositing her into yet another realm.

This time, she stood in a ballroom where the ceiling was made of the night sky. The stars swirled and danced, echoing the movements of the figures on the floor. She found herself drawn into the dance, her feet moving effortlessly to a rhythm she had never known but instantly understood.

The city within the egg offered her endless wonders. Every door she opened, every window she touched, led to something new: a forest of glowing trees whose leaves whispered secrets, a mountain where golden snow fell in soft silence, a carnival where gravity bent and laughter echoed for miles.

Here, there were no puzzles to solve, no existential questions to weigh her down. It was a world of pure beauty, mystery, and fun—a cherished break from the fires of her mind.

Sam didn’t know how long she stayed in the egg. Hours? Days? A lifetime? But when she finally found herself back in her room, the Fabergé egg resting quietly on her bedside table, she smiled.

For the first time in what felt like forever, her mind was quiet.

And she would cherish that silence.