The night pressed against the walls of Raine's room, quiet yet restless, as though the forest itself was breathing just beyond the glass of her window. She lay awake, eyes open to the dark, her body still, but her mind racing. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw them again—those golden-green eyes, alive with power, watching her as if she belonged to them.
Her fingers curled into the blanket, knuckles white. She told herself to forget, to sleep, to obey her mother's warnings, but it was useless. The forest had left its mark on her. It lingered in her chest, a hum, faint but insistent, like a flame smoldering deep beneath her skin.
She sat up suddenly, clutching her chest. There it was again—that warmth. It wasn't painful, but it frightened her. It felt alive, as if something inside her stirred, stretching, yearning, waiting to be released.
Raine stumbled to the window, pulling it open. The cool air swept across her face, carrying with it the faintest trace of the forest's scent—earth, pine, and something sharper, something that made her pulse quicken.
Her golden eyes caught her reflection faintly in the glass, but for a heartbeat, she thought she saw something else. A flicker of light, like fire dancing beneath her irises. She gasped, stepping back, but when she blinked, it was gone.
"Am I… losing my mind?" she whispered into the dark.
The whisper of leaves answered her.
Her feet moved before her thoughts caught up, carrying her outside, barefoot over the cool grass. The village was silent, asleep, its cottages darkened, but the forest loomed ahead, tall and patient, as if it had been waiting for her all along.
The path opened again.
Raine hesitated at the treeline, heart pounding, her mother's voice echoing in her head: If you value your life—if you value mine—stay away. But the warmth in her chest pushed her forward. One step. Then another.
The forest swallowed her.
This time, it felt different. Not just ominous, but alive in a way that reached for her. The shadows didn't threaten; they welcomed. The trees seemed to lean closer, branches whispering above her head. The hum inside her grew stronger, syncing with the rhythm of the forest, until her body felt like an extension of it.
Then, she felt him.
The Guardian.
She didn't see him immediately, but his presence pressed against her senses—quiet, powerful, impossible to ignore. When he stepped into view, his golden-green eyes caught the faint moonlight, burning like twin fires.
"You came," he said softly, his voice carrying both certainty and something like relief.
Raine's breath hitched. "I… I couldn't stay away."
His gaze lingered on her face, sharp yet unreadable. "The forest is not kind to wanderers. Yet it calls you still. Do you know why?"
Raine shook her head, her voice trembling. "No. But… I feel it. Something inside me—it's like fire, but it doesn't burn." She pressed a hand against her chest, where the warmth pulsed stronger now, almost as if it answered his presence.
The Guardian stepped closer, shadows moving with him like loyal companions. He raised his hand—not touching her, but close enough that the air between them seemed to thrum with energy.
"The fire you feel," he murmured, "is not madness. It is your truth. A truth your mother cannot hide forever."
Raine's eyes widened. "You know? About me?"
He tilted his head, a faint, enigmatic smile flickering at the edge of his lips. "I have always known. I have watched. I have waited. The forest recognizes you because you are not merely human. You carry within you something older… something feared and revered." His gaze deepened, golden-green burning brighter. "…The Phoenix."
The word struck her like a bolt of lightning. Raine staggered back, shaking her head. "No… that's just a myth. A story."
"Stories are memories," he replied evenly. "And memories are truths the world has tried to forget."
Raine's heart hammered. The warmth inside her flared suddenly, heat rippling through her veins, and for a split second, the air around her shimmered—like flames curling in invisible threads. She gasped, clutching her arms, but the fire did not consume her. It belonged to her.
The Guardian's eyes sharpened. "Yes… it awakens."
Before Raine could speak, the forest shuddered. The ground trembled faintly, the branches overhead snapping as something moved through the trees—not gentle, not welcoming, but heavy and dark.
The Guardian's expression hardened. His shoulders squared, his voice dropping into steel. "Not now," he muttered under his breath. Then, louder: "Go. Leave this place. You are not ready to face what follows the shadows."
Raine's eyes widened. "What is it?"
His gaze flicked into the trees, golden-green blazing like firelight in the dark. "The enemy," he said grimly. "The forest stirs because something has come hunting. And it hunts what belongs to it."
Her chest tightened. "What belongs… to it?"
His eyes locked on hers, sharp and unyielding. "You."
The forest roared suddenly—branches cracking, whispers rising like screams carried on the wind. Raine stumbled back, fear surging through her veins, but even through the chaos, the fire inside her pulsed stronger, defiant, alive.
And as the shadows closed in, Raine realized the truth:
Her life was no longer her own.
The forest had claimed her.
And the enemy had already found her.