The forest swallowed her whole.
Rain still whispered on the canopy above, but beneath the trees the air was thick and damp, carrying the scent of moss and secrets. Each step sank into the loam, muffling her footfalls. Aria's breath came shallow, her ears straining for every sound.
The oak loomed where she had left it, ancient and immense. Its roots curved like the ribs of a beast, its hollow yawning black.
This time, she didn't hesitate.
Aria stepped closer, her palm brushing the bark. The wound in her hand still stung, and when her blood touched the wood again, the hollow exhaled cool, damp air spilling across her skin.
Shapes stirred within.
At first, they looked like shadows. But as her eyes adjusted, she realized they were figures, cloaked in pale light. Three of them, tall and gaunt, with eyes that gleamed like moons.
They did not step from the hollow. They unfolded from it, as though the space inside was deeper than the forest itself.
Aria's throat tightened. Her hand itched to draw the blade of light she had felt before but the figures raised their hands in unison, palms outward, a gesture that felt more like greeting than threat.
"Daughter of Veylan," one said, voice like stone shifting under water. "The blood has awakened."
Her pulse stumbled. "You… know my name?"
"Names are etched into the roots long before you breathe," the figure replied. Its voice was neither male nor female, but something in between something vast. "You are bound to the oak, as your brother is bound to the shadow. But the bond is not equal."
Aria swallowed hard. "What does that mean?"
The second figure tilted its head. "It means war."
The clearing seemed to close in. Aria stepped back, shaking her head. "No I don't want this. I never asked for it."
The third figure's eyes burned brighter, pinning her where she stood. "Choice was lost the moment your mother bound your blood. She hid the truth, but she could not erase it. Now, the shadow claims what remains."
Her brother.
Aria's stomach dropped, the memory of his words echoing: When the war begins… you'll be standing at my side.
"No," she whispered, more to herself than to them. "I'll never stand with him."
The figures exchanged a glance, their features unreadable. Then the first one stepped forward, its form rippling like smoke.
"Then you must learn to wield what you carry. Or the shadow will devour you… and through you, devour all."
Its hand extended, long and pale, waiting.
Aria hesitated, heart thundering. If she took it, she stepped into something she didn't understand. If she refused what chance would she have against her brother?
The oak groaned, its roots shuddering, as though urging her to decide.
Aria lifted her hand
And the forest erupted with the sound of snapping branches.
She spun. Between the trees, torches flared. Villagers. At least a dozen, their faces twisted with fear and anger. And at their front Tomas's father, gripping an axe like judgment itself.
"There!" he roared. "Seize her before she damns us all!"
The figures of light recoiled, vanishing back into the hollow. The oak's glow died, leaving Aria alone in the dark surrounded.