"Take it," the voice sighed, a gentle breeze ruffling Elias’s hair. "But remember: the Forst keeps what is forgotten. Do not forget her."
Elias froze, his hand trembling. "It’s all I have left of her." the forst
Elias grabbed the locket and ran, bursting back into the sunlight of the meadow just as the sun began to set. He looked back once, but the silver birches were still, and the shadows were deep and silent once more. "Take it," the voice sighed, a gentle breeze
Elias stood at the edge of the tree line, his boots sinking into the soft, black earth. He had lived in the village of Oakhaven his entire life, and for all eighteen of those years, he had been told the same thing: Never step past the silver birches. "It’s all I have left of her
As he crossed the threshold, the air grew colder. The silence wasn't empty; it was heavy, like a held breath. Strange, bioluminescent fungi clung to the gnarled roots, glowing with a soft, pulsing violet light that guided his path.
The branches shifted, revealing a pair of golden eyes deep within the hollow of the trunk. There was no malice in them, only a vast, ancient curiosity. The forest, it seemed, wasn't a place of monsters, but a guardian of memories.