The Turning Path

The forest consumed time with an ease that matched its appetite for light. I could never tell how long we'd walked—hours, days. The whispers clung to us, threading their way through our thoughts like smoke. No one spoke unless they had to, and even then, they did so clipped, hurried, lest the forest overhear.

I turned to Lira. She led the column, her steps economical, her face set in a mask of determination. Yet even she was somehow diminished here, her shoulders hunched slightly, her steps slower than usual.

"Lost?" Rykard asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Lira did not respond. She stopped, studying the trail ahead. It twisted unnaturally, the trees bending inward like conspirators sharing secrets.

"No," she said finally. "But the forest wants us to think we are."

Rykard muttered something under his breath and fell back into the ranks. I couldn't blame him. Every step forward felt like wading through quicksand. The air was heavy, each breath thick and cloying.

The path turned sharply, and then the forest opened into a small clearing. In the center stood a structure—stone, ancient, and covered in thick vines. It was circular, its roof collapsed, leaving jagged edges that reached skyward like broken teeth.

"What is this?" one of the soldiers asked, his voice tinged with awe and fear.

"A ruin," Lira said, though her tone was uncertain.

"It looks… alive," Rykard added.

He wasn't lying. The vines covering the stone pulsed weakly, as if they had veins with blood instead of sap in them. The air in the ruin seemed to thrum with energy, weighed with some unseen force.

"Move," Lira barked.

As the soldiers sidled around the edge of the clearing, I stopped. There was something about the ruin, something that reached out and tagged at me without any logic at all.

"I am going to go check it out," I said.

Lira's head snapped toward me, her eyes narrowing. "No. We don't have time for this."

"Something's here," I insisted. "Something important."

She stared at me for a long moment, then let out a sigh. "Fine. But make it quick."

I stepped into the clearing, the air growing colder with each step. The whispers faded, replaced by a low hum that seemed to vibrate in my bones.

The entrance of the ruin was partially blocked by fallen stone, but I managed to squeeze through. Inside it was colder still, the light dim. Symbols on the walls glowed with a faint, unfamiliar shape yet oddly familiar, as if half-remembered dreams.

At the center of the room was a pedestal, its surface smooth and black. On top of it lay an object—a shard of something metallic, its surface etched with the same glowing symbols.

I approached cautiously, the hum growing louder as I neared. The shard seemed to pulse, as if it were alive.

"What is it?" Lira's voice startled me. I turned to see her standing at the entrance, her face shadowed.

"I don't know," I said. "But I think that's why we're here."

She frowned, stepping closer. "Be careful."

I reached out, my fingers brushing the shard. The hum rose to a deafening pitch, and a flash of light blinded me.

I looked up. When the haze dissipated, I wasn't in the ruin. I stood in a tremendous, infinite forest, and the trees went higher than seemed possible. The mist hung thick, and the whispers reverberated through it all, loudly clear.

"You shouldn't be here."

The voice was low, sonorous, filled with icy fury. I turned. I saw nothing.

"Who are you?".

"You have trespassed," the voice said. "You and your kind. You do not belong."

The forest seemed to shift, the trees leaning closer, their branches reaching for me.

"We mean no harm," I said. "We're just passing through."

The voice laughed, a sound like breaking branches. "You cannot pass through what you cannot escape. The Wraithwood does not let go."

The mist thickened, and I felt the ground give way beneath me. I fell, the whispers rising into a cacophony.

I woke with a gasp, the shard clutched tightly in my hand. Lira knelt beside me, her face pale.

"What happened?" she asked.

"I… I don't know," I said, my voice trembling. "But this shard… it's connected to the Wraithwood. It's part of whatever's holding this place together."

She looked at the shard, her face unreadable. "Then we'll keep it. If it's important, it might give us an edge."

I nodded and tucked the shard into my pack.

As we moved out of the clearing, the whispers returned, louder and more insistent than before.

You do not belong.

Turn back.

Or be consumed.

But we stepped forward, deeper into the heart of the forest. And for the first time, I felt not just a sense of fear, but defiance. The Wraithwood did not want us here.

Which meant we may just be in the right direction