The forest at night was no refuge ,it was a labyrinth of shadows that pressed in on Aira, each rustle of branches too sharp, each whisper of wind carrying more meaning than it should. Exile had stripped her of walls, of light, of voices leaving only the unrelenting silence and her own breath to remind her she was still alive.
Yet the forest was not silent tonight.
As Aira stumbled deeper into the undergrowth, exhaustion dragging at her bones, a voice slipped through the dark.
"Aira…"
She froze, the sound was unmistakable her brother's voice. Kieran's.
Her heart slammed against her ribs. He wasn't here. He couldn't be here. But the voice came again, softer this time, threaded with sorrow.
"You don't have to fight this alone."
Her legs moved before her mind could catch up, following the sound. It drew her like a tether, pulling her along a barely visible path that seemed to carve itself from the forest floor with each step she took. She knew it was wrong knew curses often played tricks, knew Kieran's half of the shadow was as dangerous as it was familiar but the sound was warm, achingly close to the boy who had once been her protector.
She walked faster.
Branches clawed at her arms, thorns bit into her ankles, but the voice pressed her forward. With every step it shifted from a whisper to a plea, from a plea to a command.
"Come closer. You'll understand.""Don't resist me, Aira.""You belong here with me."
The voice was changing. The warmth bled into hunger, the edges sharpening until it no longer sounded like Kieran, but something darker wearing his skin.
Aira's pace faltered. Her breath turned ragged. She forced herself to stop and look around. The forest loomed back at her, endless and indifferent, yet the pull remained a line taut between her and something unseen.
She could follow it. She could give in, let the voice lead her, let herself collapse into whatever Kieran or the shadow within him wanted her to see.
Or she could break it.
Aira closed her eyes. The lure hummed against her mind, a vibration too sweet to silence. But she remembered the villagers' hands holding her down, the firelight, the terror in their eyes. She remembered the choice they had given her: break, or survive.
Her hand went to the scar at her wrist, the one Kieran had marked long ago in a childish oath that had somehow become a curse. The mark burned hot, as if the forest itself was watching her decision.
Her voice shook, but she spoke into the dark.
"You're not him. Not anymore."
The tether snapped.
The voice cut off so abruptly it left the forest ringing, like the echo of a bell. The silence that followed was worse emptier, heavier but it was hers.
Aira stumbled backward until she found the trunk of a tree and slid down against it, her chest heaving, Alone. Terrified, but not broken.
Somewhere, unseen, something shifted in answer.