THE WHISPERING VINES

## **Prologue: The Key to Two Worlds**

The portal had been lost for centuries, buried beneath layers of earth and ivy, forgotten by the world that once feared its power.

Until tonight.

Beneath the cracked ceiling of an ancient greenhouse, a lone figure knelt before a stone archway entwined with living vines. The air thrummed with energy as the figure placed a small, black artifact—a shard of obsidian wrapped in silver—into the hollow center of the arch.

The effect was immediate.

The vines recoiled, then surged forward like snakes, weaving into the empty space of the arch. A deep hum resonated through the air. Then, with a sound like tearing silk, the empty space rippled—flickering between darkness and a strange, shifting light.

A door had opened.

The figure hesitated, breathless. He had spent years searching for this. He had made sacrifices, forged uneasy alliances, all for this moment.

But was it enough?

He reached a trembling hand toward the portal. The vines pulsed, whispering warnings in a language older than time.

*"Go forward, and the past will not forgive you."*

His jaw tightened. He knew the risks.

And yet, he stepped through.

The portal swallowed him whole, and the greenhouse was silent once more.

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Chapter 1: The Whispering Vines

Elara never meant to find the portal.

She had only meant to escape.

It had been one of those days—the kind where everything felt too heavy, too loud. The world had been pressing in on her, suffocating, and so she had done what she always did when she needed to breathe: she ran.

Through the woods at the edge of town. Past the rusting fences that warned against trespassing. Into the abandoned greenhouse, where the world felt quieter, smaller.

But today, something was different.

The air inside the greenhouse was thick with the scent of damp earth and overgrown leaves. The glass ceiling was shattered in places, allowing streaks of silver moonlight to cast eerie patterns over the floor. Vines climbed the walls, curling around stone columns, their deep green leaves shifting despite the stillness of the air.

Elara took a step forward. Her fingers brushed against one of the vines—

And it *moved*.

She gasped, stumbling back, but the vine didn't lash out. Instead, it coiled lazily, almost playfully, as if testing her reaction.

Then, she heard it.

*"A visitor… unexpected."*

Elara stiffened. The voice wasn't spoken aloud. It was inside her head.

She turned to run—

And froze.

Someone was standing at the entrance of the greenhouse.

Kieran.

Tall, quiet, with storm-gray eyes that always seemed to see more than they should. He had a reputation for knowing things before they happened, and that unnerved people. It unnerved *her*.

"You hear them too," he said softly.

Elara swallowed. "What?"

"The vines." He stepped forward. "They're talking to you."

She shook her head. "That's not possible."

Kieran glanced at the archway at the back of the greenhouse. It was massive—carved from stone and entwined with thick, ancient vines. It *felt* important, even though she had never really thought much about it before.

Until now.

Until it pulsed.

A deep, rhythmic hum resonated from the arch, sending vibrations through the ground. The vines stirred, reaching toward them, and Elara felt something shift in the air—like reality itself was bending.

Kieran exhaled sharply. "It's waking up."

Before Elara could ask what he meant, the vines *struck*.

They wrapped around her wrists, her ankles—pulling, dragging her forward. Kieran shouted something, but the sound was lost as the world tilted.

And then—

Everything shattered.

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