The night was thick and heavy over Elderwood. The forest was still, wrapped in a quiet that seemed to hum with things unseen. Liora sat alone at the edge of the porch. The wooden boards were cold under her. A lantern beside her flickered in the wind, its flame moving like a nervous heartbeat. She hadn't told Tomas about the eyes she saw in the cellar, not yet, not when he already had his own fears hiding just under the surface.
Ysolde hadn't come back.
It had been two days since Liora last saw her. No message, no sign, only silence. In Elderwood silence no longer meant safety, it meant something was moving through a door that should have stayed shut.
Liora's hands held Alwen's ring tightly. The ring, once a perfect fit, now felt like it was pulling her toward something she couldn't avoid. She could feel its power under her skin, wild and unsettled. Her dreams had grown strange and violent, rivers flowing the wrong way, wolves with empty eyes, and a child who looked like her, speaking strange words through the mirror.
People in the village were staring at her now. Conversations stopped when she walked past. Mothers held their children closer. The council hadn't spoken to her directly, but she felt their watchful eyes like smoke unseen, but choking.
But tonight, something else crept into her bones. A sound, Soft, but sure.
The same scratching she had heard in the cellar, only now it was outside, moving around the house like a question with no mouth.
She stood up, taking the lantern in her hand. Her heart pounded in her chest like it was warning her. The flame inside the lantern shook, casting broken shadows over the trees. Every part of her wanted to run back inside, lock the door, and wait for morning but her feet kept walking. Something in the ground beneath her stirred, whispering her name through the rustling leaves. The night wasn't empty. It was awake watching and now it was answering.
She stepped off the porch into the vapor. Mist curled around her ankles like smoke. It made the earth wet and quieted her steps. Each breath tasted like moss and memory, full of things left unsaid. The lantern's glow barely cut through the thick air, but she didn't stop. Something was calling to her soft, urgent, and strangely familiar. It felt like the night remembered her and had something to say.
"Show yourself," she whispered, her voice stayed steady, though her legs trembled.
No one answered. Only the trees creaked, and the night stretched wider. The sound was old, like bones shifting under heavy memories. Branches groaned overhead, as if the forest was holding back its secrets. Every shadow felt alive watching and waiting. Liora held the lantern tighter, its flame shaking like she was. Inside her, something stirred. Something old. Something buried. The silence wasn't empty. It was listening.
Then, movement at the edge of the woods. A shadow stepping out, slowly and carefully.
Liora raised the lantern, its light showed the damp grass and twisted roots.
"Who's there?"
A figure slowly stepped out of the shadows and moved closer to her. He was tall and moved in a quiet, careful way, like he didn't want to scare her. He wore a long, dark cloak with a hood that covered most of his face. The hood cast a shadow over his eyes, making it hard to see who he was. Still, something about the way he stood felt strangely familiar to Liora, like she had seen him before but couldn't remember where.
The figure stopped just outside the lantern's reach. "You shouldn't be out here alone." His voice was low, rough, like it had come through dust and time.
Liora glanced narrowly, the light in her hand shaking. "Who are you?" she asked, though part of her already knew.
The figure didn't move, but the air around him grew heavier.
"Names are dangerous," he said. "Especially in the dark."
The vapor grew thicker around them. The woods seemed to lean in.
"You're walking roads that should've stayed hidden," he said.
"Tomas."
Relief filled her chest, but didn't last. Something in his voice was wrong.
She lowered the lantern slightly. "You scared me."
"You scare everyone," he said, softly.
She blinked. "What?"
"I didn't mean" he ran a hand through his hair. "People are afraid of you, of what's happening. I'm trying, Liora. I really am. But"
"But you're afraid too," she said, finishing his sentence.
He looked away.
There it was that small crack in his loyalty.
"Tomas," she said, stepping closer, "if you think like they do, just say it. If you think I'm cursed" Her voice shook not from fear, but from being tired of always defending herself.
Tomas looked torn. "I don't know what to think," he said. "I see how people look at you now. Like you're something to fear."
Liora's eyes shimmered in the faint light. "I never asked for this," she said. "But I won't run from it."
Tomas reached for her hand, then hesitated. "I'm scared, Liora. Not of you of what's coming for you."
"I don't think you're cursed," he added quickly. "I think something inside you is waking up. Something we can't explain and that scares me."
Liora nodded, her throat tight " it scares me too."
They stood quietly as the night breathed around them.
Then she said, "Ysolde's gone. No word. She just vanished."
Tomas frowned. "Maybe she left to protect you."
"Or maybe something took her," Liora whispered. "And if that's true, it won't stop with her."
Tomas stepped closer. "So what do we do?"
She met his eyes. "We stop waiting. We go to the council."
He looked shocked. "That's suicide."
"Maybe," she said. "But doing nothing is worse." Her voice was quiet, but filled with strength not from bravery, but from need. The vapor moved around them like it was alive and listening.
"Every hour we wait, the shadows grow stronger," she said. "Every silence we keep gives them more space."
Tomas swallowed hard, his breath turning to mist. "Then let me wait with you," he said. "Even if I'm afraid."
Liora shook her head gently. "I don't need you to be brave. I need you to stand with me when it matters even in the dark."
The council hall stood like a tomb at the village's center. Its stone walls were smooth from age and secrets. Liora hadn't entered since childhood when her mother walked beside her and she still believed the rules protected them.
Now, she didn't know what to believe. Only that something was deeply wrong. And it was more than rumors, symbols, or a missing aunt.
Tomas pushed open the door. The smell of old paper and smoke met them like a dying breath.
Council members sat in a half circle. Only the fire in the center lit their faces. They didn't stand. They didn't speak.
Liora stepped forward. "I want answers."
One of them, Elandor the oldest raised a brow. "Then ask."
She stood tall. "What happened to Alwen? The truth."
Elandor's eyes narrowed. "You've heard stories."
"I saw it," she said. "I went to the ruins. I touched the stones her memory is there."
A whisper ran through the room.
"And now Ysolde is gone."
One younger councilman leaned forward. "Gone?"
"She left without a word," Tomas said. "She wouldn't do that unless something made her."
The silence that followed felt ready to break.
Elandor stood.
"The truth," he said slowly, "is not one thing. It's like a crystal. What you saw was one side of it."
"Then show me the rest," Liora said, her voice shaking.
Elandor looked down at her. His eyes unreadable.
"She was one of us Alwen. But she wanted to open doors we had closed long ago. Doors better left shut."
"Why?"
"Because what lies behind them," he said quietly, "is not power. It is hunger."
He turned to the others. "Show her."
A panel opened behind the fire pit, revealing stairs leading down.
Tomas grabbed her arm. "Don't."
Liora looked at him. "I have to."
The stairs curled down like they led to the earth's bones. The air was cold, damp, and heavy. Tomas followed, his fear loud in his chest.
At the bottom, a chamber opened. Runes covered the walls. In the center a glass coffin.
Inside, a woman, not asleep, not dead.
Alwen.
Liora dropped to her knees. "No"
Elandor's voice echoed. "We didn't burn her. We couldn't. The fire refused. So we sealed her. To contain what she became."
Tomas asked, "What? What did she become?"
"She opened the veil," Elandor said. "And something answered."
Liora stared at Alwen's face. Calm. Beautiful. But wrong.
Behind the glass, something pulsed. Faint.
A heartbeat, "She's alive."
Elandor shook his head. "She's waiting."
Liora turned to him. "For what?"
"For you."
The room shook. Dust fell from t
he ceiling.
Tomas whispered, "We have to go."
But Liora didn't move. She reached for the glass.
Alwen's eyes flew open.
And the chamber filled with wind and darkness.