Thunder Oak loomed ahead, an ancient sentinel that had watched over this forest for centuries. Its presence wasn't just physical—it pressed down on you, a weight you couldn't shake. The air around it crackled with the remnants of old magic, sharp and metallic, like the tang of blood after you've bitten your lip. Even the light seemed afraid to come too close, slipping through the gaps in its bluish-green leaves, casting strange, flickering shadows across the path.
"Still makes my teeth ache," Alira muttered, rubbing her jaw as we passed beneath its wide branches.
"Remember when you tried to climb it?" I smirked, glancing sideways at her. "Mother was furious."
She skipped over a root and shot me a look. "Only because you dared me to. I couldn't back down." She winced, fingers brushing her palm. "Besides, that wretched thing made my hair stand on end for nigh on three days. I looked like a frightened cat."
Eliza giggled, the sound light and musical, cutting through the heavy atmosphere. She wasn't bothered by the tree like we were. Instead, her eyes gleamed with curiosity as she studied the tree. "Eleven strikes," she murmured. "And still standing. Makes you wonder if it wanted to be struck, doesn't it?"
I caught the edge of awe in her voice, the way she treated magic like it was something to be respected and revered. It tightened something in my chest. I glanced at my forearm, at the place where thunder had once danced across my skin in my dreams, and a strange discomfort settled in.
We veered off the main path, the oppressive weight of the Thunder Oak lifting as we stepped into the denser part of the woods. The air here was lighter, though still damp with the morning dew. The hoop pines lining the trail seemed ordinary in comparison, reliable tall and straight trees.
The ground squelched underfoot, soft from night's rain, and mushrooms clustered along the edges of the path. Most were dull, unremarkable, but one in particular caught my eye. It was a deep, radiant purple, glowing faintly under the weak sunlight. The cap was smooth, beaded with moisture that absorbed light rather than reflecting it.
Eliza noticed me pause, her eyes following mine. "That one caught your attention, didn't it?" She stepped closer, a small smile playing on her lips.
I nodded, keeping my eyes on the mushroom. "What's this one? Looks toxic to me." My voice was low, casual.
She brushed past me, the faint scent of lavender and herbs clinging to her. She always smelled like that... fresh and earthy, like she carried a bit of the forest with her wherever she went. Kneeling down, her fingers hovered over the mushroom before gently plucking it from the earth. The faint glow vanished immediately, leaving behind only a dull violet hue.
"Duskshade Mushroom," she said, her voice soft but clear. "It's used in potions for night vision. Grows in places with dense energy and dim light." She held it up for me to see, turning it slightly in her hand before slipping it into her bag.
I wasn't really listening, not entirely. Her words were there, but my focus was something else... on the way her presence stirred something inside me, something I wasn't sure how to handle. Eliza had always been patient, kind. But recently, there was a new weight behind her gaze, a warmth that unsettled me in ways I didn't want to acknowledge.
Alira's voice broke the moment, sharp and impatient. "Come on, you two! The lake's waiting for me!" She was up ahead, already bouncing on her toes, eager to get back to her training.
Eliza chuckled, shaking her head as she stood. "Yes, yes," she said, slipping the mushroom into her bag. Her eyes flicked to mine, and for a moment, there was something unsaid between us.
I cleared my throat and nodded, forcing my focus back to the task at hand. My chest felt tight, like my heart was pounding too hard, too fast. Without thinking, my hand pressed against it, fingers curling into the fabric of my tunic. I muttered under my breath, barely a whisper. Please, no. The drumming was relentless, like war drums sounding deep inside me.
When we finally reached the lake, the world seemed to shift. The air grew heavier, thick with the magic that clung to this place. The lake stretched out before us, still and silent, reflecting the trees that leaned over its edges. Their long, gnarled branches dipped into the water, like they were reaching for something just beneath the surface. The light here was dim, muted by the thick canopy overhead, casting everything in a soft, ethereal glow.
But something was wrong.
The goblin corpses from yesterday were gone. Drag marks, faint on the wet ground but noticeable, trailed from the bloodstained shore into the darker parts of the forest. I narrowed my eyes, scanning the trees for movement, but the forest was still, too still. The only sound was the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze.
Alira didn't seem to notice—or care. She stepped forward, removing her boots, her bare feet sinking into the wet earth as she made her way to the shore. Without hesitation, she sat down, crossing her legs and letting her fingers brush the surface of the water. Her eyes fluttered shut, her breathing slow and steady as she drew in the essence around her. I could feel the energy shift in the air, could sense the way it responded to her, like the lake itself was feeding her magic. Droplets of water began to gather on her fingers, crawling across her skin like tiny insects drawn to sweetness.
Eliza stood beside me, her voice barely more than a whisper. "She's incredible. The way she pulls magic... it's like second nature to her." There was admiration in her tone, maybe even a hint of jealousy.
I didn't take my eyes off Alira, watching as the water droplets danced across her hand without dampening her sleeves. "Yes," I agreed, my voice quieter now. "She is. This place helps, though. The lake's full of it." I paused, then added, "You could've awakened here, too. You've got the talent."
Eliza smiled, her fingers brushing mine as she tugged me toward the trees. "Maybe," she said softly, "but we've got herbs to gather."
I glanced at her, hesitating for a moment before following. The forest felt calm now—no sense of danger, no malice lurking at the edges of my vision. It was... peaceful. For once, it felt like we could relax.
"What do these herbs look like?" I asked, trying to refocus.
Eliza pulled a small leather-bound journal from her bag, flipping through the pages. "We're looking for Bloodroot," she explained, her brow furrowing as she read. "Red vines that grow near the trees. And Moonweep—it grows near water sources and looks like silver on the moss."
"Bloodroot, huh?" I raised an eyebrow. "Sounds friendly."
She giggled softly, the sound blending with the rustle of leaves. "It's harmless," she replied, flashing me a quick smile before moving toward the nearest tree.
We searched the area, scanning the trunks for the telltale red vines. After an hour or so, Eliza called out, excitement in her voice. "Einar, over here! I found it!"
I made my way over to her, my boots squelching in the wet ground. She stood by a tree, its trunk wrapped in deep red tendrils that seemed to glow faintly in the dim light. They were easy to miss, blending into the shadows, but Eliza's sharp eyes had caught them.
"Good spot," I said, glancing at the sky. The light was fading faster than I expected. "Let's get them quickly."
Eliza pulled out a small knife, slicing the vines carefully from the tree. Her hands moved with practiced precision, cutting just enough to take without damaging the plant. She placed the tendrils in a glass jar, sealing it tight.
I extended my hand to help her up, and when our fingers touched, something stirred in me again. Her hand was warm, soft against mine, and for a moment, I didn't pull away. She smiled at me, her gaze lingering.
But I let go, clearing my throat as I turned back toward the lake. "Let's finish up before the dark."
We moved to the other side, gathering the Moonweep Moss from the rocks near where Alira had practiced the day before. Its silver strands glistened in the low light, almost blending into the rock, but we managed to collect enough before the evening settled in.
As we worked, the air around us grew heavier with energy, condensing around Alira like morning mist, as if all the energy around the lake was gathering around her. She was deep in her meditation now, drawing in more and more essence, holding it within her like water in a bucket. It was mesmerizing, watching her, feeling the air buzz with power.
And yet, I felt... distant. I could sense it, taste it in the air, but it slipped away from me every time I reached for it. Like something inside me rejected it, pushed it away.
A twig snapped in the distance, and I tensed, my body going rigid. My head snapped toward the sound, my nostrils flaring as the faint scent of blood reached me.
Eliza noticed my change in demeanor, her eyes narrowing in concern.
"Einar?" she asked, her voice soft, questioning.
I forced myself to relax, shaking my head. "Just the woods," I muttered. "Nothing to worry about."
But as I looked out at the darkening forest, something in me whispered otherwise.
***
The air around the cabin shifted as we stepped into the grove, the thick pines standing guard like silent sentinels. The wind picked up, whistling through the trees, and I could feel the temperature drop slightly, like the forest itself was cooling as evening settled in.
Mother stood by the door, her wand raised, moving with a fluid grace I had seen a thousand times before but still found captivating. The runes on the doorframe flickered with her movements, glowing faintly in response to her magic. Each flick of her wand left a shimmering trail behind, like a dance no one but her could perform. Even from a distance, I could feel the hum of magic vibrating through the air.
Alira glanced up at the sky, the faintest sliver of moon visible through the thick canopy. "That marks the start of the Sereth," she muttered, her voice almost a whisper.
Eliza, standing beside me, furrowed her brow. "How can you be sure?" she asked, sounding genuinely curious. "I mean... the weather's been strange... the sky hasn't been clear enough to see the moon for days."
I smiled, a rare thing for me. "Mother renews the protection runes on every full moon." I nodded towards her, watching the way her wand moved through the air with practiced precision, leaving red and gold trails. "And this marks the fourth. It's her routine."
Eliza's eyes followed the wand's movements of my mother, captivated. "She's... beautiful," she whispered, her voice filled with awe. There was a quiet reverence in her words, like she was seeing something holy.
I couldn't help but chuckle, the sound coming out soft and low. Alira shot me a sideways glance, grinning widely. "Now you know where I get my good looks," she teased, puffing her chest out dramatically.
I rolled my eyes, but there was warmth in the gesture. "Sure, sure."
As we got closer to the cabin, Mother finished her work, lowering her wand with a satisfied sigh. She wiped a sheen of sweat from her brow and turned to greet us, her smile warm but tired. "Took you longer than usual," she said, her voice carrying the familiar tone of quiet concern. "Everything alright?"
I nodded. "Alira's getting closer. She touched something today. Could be nearing her awakening." I ruffled my sister's hair as I spoke, causing her to bat my hand away with a playful scowl.
Mother's eyes lit up, pride clear in the lines of her smile. "Sweetheart, that's incredible! I'm so proud of you." She pulled Alira into a tight hug, her voice filled with genuine love and affection, the kind only a mother could give.
I noticed Eliza standing off to the side, her smile faltering as she watched the embrace. A tear glistened in the corner of her eye, quickly wiped away, but it was there; her loneliness. She is strong most of the time, but she feels lonely at times. Living alone for years among strangers, she often experiences people staring at her simply because she is a foreigner and... a girl...
Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed her hand. She froze for a moment, looking up at me with those hazel eyes of hers, startled by the gesture. It wasn't much, just a small touch, but I knew it meant something to her. To me, it was... complicated. Her feelings had grown deeper over the past months, and I'd been pulling away, but I couldn't stand to see my only friend hurt.
She gave me a weak smile, placing her other hand on mine. "I'm fine," she muttered, her voice unconvincing. Her pulse quickened under my touch, and I knew she wasn't fine.
I cleared my throat and pulled my hand back, breaking the tension. "Let's head inside."
Mother was already ushering Alira into the cabin, her voice light as she asked about the day. Eliza hesitated, glancing back toward the steps. "I should go," she said softly. "Herbs we collected won't last past midnight. I need to store them."
Mother turned, smiling kindly. "Don't let us keep you, dear. Come by any time. You're family here."
Eliza smiled, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. "Thank you, Aunt," she whispered, the words thick with emotion. Then she turned to me, her gaze lingering. "Einar... Um... could you come by the shop tomorrow? There's something I need to talk to you about."
The way she said it... It wasn't casual. There was weight in her voice, a seriousness that made something twist uncomfortably in my gut. Even Mother must have caught that. I forced a nod, even though the last thing I wanted was another conversation like this. "Sure. Be careful on your way back."
She gave one last smile before turning and disappearing into the woods, the sound of her footsteps fading into the distance.
***
Inside the cabin, the warmth from the fire greeted us, and the smell of stew hit me full force. The dim glow of the oil lanterns cast soft shadows across the wooden walls, creating an intimate atmosphere. I sat next to Mother at the table, dipping a piece of bread into the thick stew, but my mind was elsewhere.
The silence stretched between us, punctuated only by the soft clinking of bowls and the occasional scrape of a chair. Alira was quiet for once, her usual chatter replaced by a dreamy expression, clearly still caught up in her earlier success. But Mother... something was off. I could feel it, a tension in her that didn't match the warmth of her smile.
Finally, she broke the silence, her voice soft but heavy. "For how long?"
I blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"
She set her spoon down, her eyes never leaving mine. "For how long, she had feelings for you?"
Her question hit me like a blow to the chest. I coughed, nearly choking on my stew. She must have caught Eliza previously. I had never told her, never needed to, she was my mother. She'd always known. But things changed after I told her about the dreams. I had changed. She even asked at that time about my feelings for her.
I hesitated, but I couldn't lie to her; the values my mother instilled in me wouldn't allow it.
"A few months, maybe more," I admitted, my voice quieter now. "It's gotten stronger. She's... lonely."
Mother's expression didn't change, but her eyes softened with something I couldn't quite place. "And you? You still love her?"
I swallowed hard. Still, love her? The words felt foreign in my mouth. I cared about Eliza, but love? Not anymore. I had been lost in my own world for too long, consumed by those dreams, and her. "I... I think I did. But now... it feels different. My heart... it belongs somewhere else. Somewhere I can't reach."
She let out a small, trembling breath and pulled me into her arms, cradling my head against her chest like she used to when I was a child. "Einar," she whispered, her voice shaking with barely controlled emotion. "You can't love her. You can't love anyone. Please... just listen to me. It's the only selfish thing I'll ever ask of you."
I felt her tears against the back of my head, and something inside me broke. This wasn't about Eliza. This was about something deeper, something darker that she was always hiding.
Alira watched from across the table, her bright eyes darting between us, sensing the weight of the moment but choosing to cut through the tension.
"Come on, Ma," she said, her voice full of her usual energy. "Don't you want him to be happy?"
Mother smiled at that, her voice softening. "Of course I do, sweetheart. I want both of you to be happy. But sometimes... sometimes there are things bigger than us. Things we can't control." She looked directly into my eyes, and the weight of her words settled deep into my bones. "Just wait for..." She paused for a moment. "Just trust me. Your destiny... It's bigger than this village. Bigger than you know."
Her words sent a shiver down me, and the hollowness in my chest deepened. Destiny. Fate. They were words meant for me, but it felt like they were meant for someone else.
"Anything for you, mother," I said, wiping tears from her pretty face. The words felt heavy, like a promise I wasn't sure I could keep.
The room felt smaller, the warmth of the fire more stifling than comforting. Her words should have been comforting, but they weren't. Instead, they made the hollow feeling in my chest grow, like the gap between my dreams and reality was widening with every second. Something was breaking.
And I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold it together.