WHISPERS OF THE FORBIDDEN CREATURES: The Forest of Whispering Echoes

Chapter 23: The Forest of Whispering Echoes

The cold bit into her skin before her eyes fully adjusted.

Lila stood barefoot on a forest floor veined with glowing moss, soft and damp beneath her feet. Towering silverwood trees loomed above her, their branches twined together like skeletal hands, blocking out the sky. And yet, light danced here. Ethereal. Almost alive. Threads of moonlight twisted between leaves, curling around her arms like they knew her name.

Her breath rose in clouds.

She turned in slow circles, heart hammering. This wasn't a dream. Not entirely. She could feel the pulse of the world beneath her feet, the thrum of ancient magic soaking the air.

Then she heard it.

A whisper.

No—hundreds of whispers. Murmuring from every direction. Voices half-familiar, like old lullabies sung by strangers.

Lila... Lila... Lila...

They knew her. The forest knew her.

She stumbled forward, pushing through veils of hanging silver leaves. Somewhere in the distance, something moved—fast, graceful, and wrong. A shimmer of shadow too solid to be wind.

Lila gritted her teeth. "Where am I?" she called out, voice echoing far louder than it should.

A breeze swept past her ear.

"The place between."

She spun around.

Nothing.

Her fists clenched. Magic rose instinctively, but it didn't surge in her veins like before—it slithered, foreign and untamed. Like it didn't quite belong to her anymore.

Or maybe like she didn't quite belong to herself.

Then she saw it.

A path, lit by pale blue flames floating above the ground. They appeared one by one, leading her deeper into the forest. She didn't want to follow.

But her feet moved anyway.

The path narrowed, and the trees grew stranger—bark etched with runes that pulsed softly as she passed. Some whispered. Others wept.

And then the forest opened.

She stood at the edge of a vast mirror-lake, so still it didn't even ripple with the wind. And in its center,

A throne.

Black stone carved with bones and feathers. Draped in flowing silks of midnight blue. Empty… but not abandoned.

Lila stepped closer to the water's edge. Her reflection shimmered.

But it wasn't just her.

Behind her stood the King.

Not in flesh—but in memory. His image twisted and incomplete, like the forest couldn't fully shape him. His eyes, however, were the same.

Endless.

Watching.

Waiting.

"You called me here," she whispered.

"No," his voice echoed across the lake. "You crossed over. You always could. The Veil never forgot you."

Her fists clenched, magic sparking between her fingers. "I'm not yours."

The shadows of the forest stirred at her defiance, leaves rustling with voices too old to name.

"But you are not theirs either," the King said. "The Academy can teach spells and stories. But they cannot teach you your blood. That belongs to us."

The lake began to ripple now, faint and rhythmic. Like a heartbeat.

Her heartbeat.

"You're trying to manipulate me," Lila said, but the certainty in her voice faltered. The pull was there again—that magnetic sense of familiarity she hated and longed for all at once.

"When the time comes," he said softly, "you'll stand between worlds. And one of them will burn. You must choose."

"I won't let either fall."

He tilted his head, not mocking—almost… fond. "Child of the Veil... you were born to choose. That is your burden."

Then the vision shattered.

A scream tore through the forest, high and sharp—a human voice.

Niall's voice.

Lila gasped, stumbling back as the trees shifted violently. The path behind her was gone. The sky above fractured, bleeding gold light.

She wasn't alone anymore.

Dozens of eyes blinked open in the dark.

Slender forms stepped from the trees—creatures tall and draped in veils of mist and bone. Not wraiths. Not spirits.

Veilwalkers.

Lost ones.

Exiled ones.

And at their center stood a girl.

Pale hair. Silver eyes.

The one from her visions.

The First Daughter.

"You brought him closer," the girl said, not unkindly. "You opened the gate."

Lila's breath caught. "No. I—I didn't mean to...."

"But you did."

The girl raised a hand, and the forest tensed. The trees leaned inward, and the air grew sharp with pressure.

"You cannot run from what you are, Lila Harper. The world is shifting. The bonds are breaking. And your name has already been carved into both realms."

"Then help me stop it!" Lila shouted.

The First Daughter's face softened—sad, ancient. "You cannot stop the storm. But you can decide where it strikes first."

The vision snapped.

Lila awoke in her bed. For real this time. Sweat soaked her skin. Her sheets were torn.

And burned symbols—faint and glowing—were carved into the stone beneath her.

Veil runes.

Magic she'd never learned.

But somehow… she knew exactly what they meant.

A path has opened.

And it leads both ways.