The Path of Echoes

The early morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine. Emma tightened the strap of her bag as she followed Rahi through the dense forest, her body still heavy from sleep, her mind lingering on the strange dream.

"The truth hidden within the stones."

Her mother's voice had sounded so real, so urgent—but what did it mean?

"You're too quiet," Rahi said, glancing over his shoulder.

Emma snapped out of her thoughts. "Just thinking."

"Don't think too hard," he said, stepping over a fallen branch. "You'll need your focus for what's ahead."

Emma frowned. "And what exactly is ahead?"

Rahi slowed his pace, his silver eyes sharp. "The Whispering Valley."

The name sent a chill through her. "That doesn't sound like a friendly place."

"It's not." Rahi stopped at the edge of a ridge, motioning for her to look.

Emma stepped beside him, and her breath caught. Below them stretched an endless expanse of mist, rolling like waves over the valley floor. Faint outlines of ruined structures peeked through the fog, their jagged remains half-buried in the earth. The air hummed, filled with a strange, unearthly sound—not quite a whisper, not quite a song.

Emma shivered. "What is this place?"

"A battlefield," Rahi murmured. "A long time ago, two warring kingdoms clashed here. Thousands died. Their voices still linger in the wind."

Emma's fingers instinctively curled around the pouch at her waist. "And we have to go through it?"

"Unless you'd rather take the long way around."

"How much longer?"

"A week."

Emma sighed. "Let's go through the creepy valley."

Rahi smirked. "Smart choice."

_______________________________________________________________________

The Whispering Valley

The descent was slow, the ground beneath their feet damp and uneven. The moment they stepped into the valley, the air grew thick, pressing against Emma's skin like unseen hands. The whispers grew louder.

At first, they were indistinct—just a soft murmur carried by the wind. But the further they walked, the clearer they became.

"Help us…""They took everything…""It burns… it burns!"

Emma's breath hitched. "Tell me those are just the wind."

Rahi didn't answer.

She turned to him, and for the first time, she saw something unusual in his expression—unease.

"You've been here before," she realized.

Rahi's jaw tightened. "Once."

Emma waited for him to explain, but he didn't.

They walked in silence, the mist growing thicker around them. Every so often, Emma caught glimpses of shadows shifting in the fog—figures moving just out of reach. She forced herself to keep her gaze forward.

Then, the whispers changed.

"Emma…"

Her entire body froze.

That voice—it wasn't just any voice.

It was her mother's.

"Emma… come closer."

Emma's heart pounded. She turned sharply, her eyes scanning the mist. For a brief moment, she saw a figure standing in the fog—tall, slender, with long flowing hair.

Her breath caught. "Mother?"

She took a step forward.

A strong hand grabbed her wrist, yanking her back.

"Don't," Rahi said sharply.

Emma's head whipped toward him. "I heard her! I saw—"

"It's not her." His grip tightened. "It's the valley. It's trying to lure you in."

Emma's pulse raced. "But—"

"Look again."

She turned back, and this time, the figure had changed. The soft features of her mother had melted away, revealing something twisted and hollow—a creature with sunken eyes and a mouth stretched too wide in a silent scream.

Emma stumbled back, her stomach twisting. "What…?"

"They feed on grief," Rahi murmured. "They take the voices of the lost, use them to draw people deeper into the valley."

Emma swallowed hard. If Rahi hadn't stopped her…

She looked at him, realizing just how serious he looked. "This is what happened last time, isn't it?"

Rahi hesitated.

Emma stepped closer. "You lost someone here."

For a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer. But then—

"My brother," he said quietly.

Emma's breath caught. "I… I'm sorry."

Rahi's gaze was unreadable. "Let's keep moving."

She wanted to ask more, but she knew better than to push.

Instead, she followed.

As they walked deeper, Emma kept her hands clenched around the Ruby Stone, using its warmth to anchor herself. The whispers continued, clawing at her mind, but she refused to listen.

They walked for hours, the mist twisting around them, but eventually—finally—they saw the other side.

Emma exhaled in relief as they stepped out of the valley's grasp. The air felt lighter, the whispers fading behind them.

They had made it through.

But something told her the real dangers were only just beginning.