chapter 7: Fading Light

The group woke to soft light peeking through the windows.

Dust drifted through the beams like old ash. The air was quiet, thick with the hush that follows endings. Somewhere beneath the floorboards, the house let out a tired sigh.

Sollene and Cress stepped into the main room. Their feet made no sound on the wood, like the house had swallowed even that. The Lady was already there, setting down a tray with deliberate care.

"Morning," she said without turning.

"Morning," they echoed, voices still rough with sleep. Sollene rubbed at one eye. Cress sat slowly, fingers curled around the edge of the chair.

The Lady moved through the room with a grace that had once felt effortless. Now, it looked like memory something borrowed. The usual shimmer that followed her steps was dimmer, her trail of butterflies barely visible. Yesterday, she had seemed steady. Today, she looked like a flame in wind.

"We'll wait for the boys to come down, then we'll have breakfast," she said gently. "In the meantime, would you like some tea?"

"That would be nice," they replied together.

She gave a soft nod and turned toward the kitchen. Her silhouette passed through the sunlight like mist dissolving into fog.

Cael and Thane came down a few minutes later, quiet and barefoot, the floor creaking beneath them. Thane's shirt was wrinkled, one sleeve half rolled. Cael's hair stuck up in the back like he'd forgotten it existed. Neither of them spoke as they slid into the chairs.

"Where is she?" Thane asked, glancing toward the empty kitchen doorway.

"She went to make tea," Cress said. She looked uneasy, fingers tapping lightly against her cup. "I think… there's something wrong with her."

There was a pause. Cael frowned but said nothing. Sollene stared at the table, her hands folded neatly.

The Lady returned a moment later. The tray in her hands trembled slightly.

"Tea, anyone?" she asked. Her smile held, but it looked tired, like it took effort just to wear it.

She set down the tray. Bowls of cut fruit, slices of bread smeared with deep red jam, steam curling from teacups. It all looked lovely. Too lovely. Like it had been made for a painting, not for people.

They murmured thanks and reached for the food.

The flavors weren't quite right. The fruit was sweet, but distant. The bread was warm, but hollow in a way none of them could explain. Every bite tasted like something from long ago half-forgotten, like the memory of a meal more than the meal itself.

Sollene's expression twisted for a brief second.

"I don't like how the food here tastes," Cael said, pushing a slice of fruit with his fork. He didn't look up when he spoke.

"Don't worry. You'll get used to it," the Lady said gently, settling down in the chair with a faint sigh. "Like I said yesterday spirits can't truly taste. They eat the memory of what food used to taste like."

"But we're not spirits," Thane said. He took a bite, chewed slowly, swallowed like it took effort.

"You will be," she replied, her voice as soft as breath. "Anyone who enters this world becomes a spirit in time."

"Speaking of which... what is this place?" Sollene asked, her tone cautious but curious. She sat a little straighter, eyes fixed on the Lady.

"This world is called Lytherra," the Lady explained, folding her hands in her lap. "It has four continents. We're currently in Aurelith, the domain of the Poet."

She paused, watching their faces for recognition not expecting it, but still searching.

"The Poet is one of the four great spirits who rule this world. Each rules a continent, each has shaped it in their image. The Poet is... different. Quiet. Elusive. They value beauty in sorrow, truth in contradiction. Aurelith is a land of riddles, half-truths, and fragile things that are stronger than they seem."

She rested her hand gently on the table, as though even keeping herself upright was beginning to cost her something.

"In Aurelith, the laws are written in verse, and the winds carry forgotten songs. The Poet rarely speaks, but when they do, the world listens. Their stories don't just entertain they become things. A tale told well in their land can bloom into a tree, or build a bridge over mist."

Then she gave a small smile, more tired than amused. "But geography isn't what matters right now."

"Then what is?" Thane asked, frowning as he leaned forward.

The Lady's gaze shifted toward him slowly, the glow around her dimming just a touch more.

"Before anything else, you need to know how to survive," the Lady said. Her voice had grown quieter, and she took a moment to breathe before continuing. "This world is made of stories. Everything—the trees, the people, the water—it all exists because of stories. And in order for you to survive, you must share your own. Spread your tale. Make yourself known."

She lifted her cup but didn't drink from it. Her hand trembled slightly.

"The more people who know your story, the more powerful you become. When you leave this forest, you'll need to find a way to make sure you're never forgotten. Because if you are…" She let the words hang in the air, meeting each of their eyes in turn. "That's the end of your journey."

A hush settled over the table. Cael stared at the grain of the wood. Cress clutched her tea with both hands.

"Oh dear," the Lady said suddenly, glancing toward the window as though remembering something. "Would you look at the time? You'll need to get going if you want to reach town before dark."

"Are you alright?" Cress asked, sitting forward, worry clear on her face.

"I'm fine, darling," the Lady replied with a tired smile. Her glow pulsed faintly, and her shoulders dropped just a little more. "Don't be too concerned."

She turned toward the hallway, steadying herself against the wall for a moment before disappearing around the corner.

"I packed you a bag with supplies, a map, and a few things I thought you might need."

The Lady's voice floated in from the hall just before she reappeared, moving slower than before. In her hands was a worn, brown satchel with a long strap. She placed it carefully on the table like it might slip through her fingers if she moved too fast.

"Wait," Thane said, his voice halting. "How do we get back?"

The question lingered in the room. The Lady paused mid-step, her expression unreadable.

"Back?" she echoed softly. "Hmm… you wish to return."

She studied Thane for a long moment, as if measuring something invisible.

"To be honest, it's been long since I met anyone who wanted to go back," she said at last, her tone honest, not unkind. "I'm not sure I can give you the answer you want. You'll have to grow stronger… and figure it out for yourselves."

She turned toward a low drawer and slowly opened it. "Let me just grab the map so you can be on your way."

The silence returned as she shuffled through parchment. The only sound was the faint rustle of paper and the creak of the old floor beneath her feet.

"She's obviously not okay," Sollene said, her voice low as she stared at the fading shimmer trailing behind the Lady. It barely glowed now, like embers cooling in ash.

"What do you think is happening to her? She seems in a hurry to get us out," Cael added, his brow furrowed, fingers absently tracing the edge of his cup.

"Whatever it is, it's none of our business," Thane said firmly. He didn't look up, eyes fixed on the table.

"But she helped us," Cress protested. Her hands curled around her tea, knuckles white, as if holding on to something more than just the cup.

"Let's respect her boundaries," Thane replied. "If she wanted us to know, she would've told us. And besides… even if you knew, what would you do? We don't know how to heal spirits."

His words landed like a slow ache, pulling the air from the room. No one answered. For a while, only the ticking of the old clock in the corner filled the silence.

Then the Lady returned, a quiet presence at the doorway, a brown leather-like bag in her hands.

"I've packed a few things for your journey," she said, placing the bag gently on the table. The leather creaked as it touched the wood, and her hands lingered there a moment too long—like she wasn't ready to let go of it.

"There's a map," she continued, pulling out a rolled piece of parchment with slow, careful movements. "And some of the tea I had given Cress to drink. Just steep the leaves in hot water for two minutes."

She spread the map open, her fingers tracing along the lines as though steadying herself. The parchment unfurled quietly, showing a simple layout—mostly trees, a stream threading through them like a soft song.

"There are other supplies in the bag I think you'll find useful," she added, her voice soft, eyes distant. "Oh and one more thing: don't let anyone know you're human."

"How are we supposed to do that?" Cael asked, his voice quiet but tense. He leaned forward, brow knitted, as though he could press the answer from her.

"You'll have to figure that out," she said, offering a faint smile. "Now, everyone look at the map."

She stepped back slightly, her fingers trembling just before she clasped them behind her.

"Please show me a way out of the forest," the Lady said, voice tinged with a quiet urgency. The others glanced at her, puzzled by the phrasing.

"You have to be polite," the Lady explained, as if it were something obvious, something sacred.

At her words, a single red line began to trace itself across the map. Letters formed slowly in curling script: Aurelith: Forest of Origins. Five small dots clustered at the start of the red path, which bent and swerved around trees until it reached a small cluster of buildings labeled Thistledown.

"Just follow the line," she said. Her words were barely more than breath now. "It should take you where you're going."

Then, as if the effort had pulled something from her, she sank into the nearest chair. The butterflies that had once hovered gently around her faded from sight. The glow in her dress dimmed to nothing. The silence that followed felt too still.

"Thank you for your help," Sollene said. Her voice was soft but steady. She stood by the door now, one hand resting on the frame like she needed to feel something solid.

The Lady didn't answer.

"Thank you," Cress echoed, stepping forward. Her eyes lingered on the fading woman for a moment longer than the others'. Her fingers fidgeted at her side, curling into the fabric of her skirt.

"Thank you," Cael added. His voice was quiet. He didn't look back.

Thane paused at the doorway. "Will you be alright?" he asked.

The Lady turned her head slowly toward him. Her eyes didn't quite meet his. "I'll be forgotten soon," she said. "But I'm glad to have met you. All of you."

They left the cottage in silence.

The door shut behind them with a gentle click, and the forest greeted them again with its shifting light and quiet rustle.

The group walked until the trees began to look unfamiliar again—taller, closer together, their trunks twisting like they'd grown while listening to stories.

Sollene trailed behind the others. Her steps were slower, more measured. She kept glancing back, even though the house had long vanished behind them.

Cress was the first to break the silence. "Looks like I can walk by myself now," she said with a small smile, brushing twigs off her dress. "How do you feel?" she asked no one in particular, though her gaze was on Thane.

"Better," she answered herself, before anyone could speak. "It's nice to move again. Sorry if I was a bother."

"Not at all," Thane said. He kept his eyes on the map in his hand but offered her a small grin. "You were really light, Cress. You should eat more."

She gave a quiet laugh, but her smile faded quickly. The forest around them seemed to shift with their footsteps, and the trail was thin, almost like it didn't want to be found.

Sollene stayed quiet. Her brow was furrowed, lips pressed together like she was holding something in.

"What's wrong?" Cress asked, her voice softer now.

Sollene blinked and shook her head. "Oh… nothing," she said quickly. "I think I left something back at the house."

She didn't give them a chance to question it. "I'll be right back—wait for me here."

And then she turned, feet already moving, her figure vanishing between the trees before anyone could argue.

Sollene ran through the trees, her breath quick and shallow, the morning light flickering through the canopy above. The path back to the cottage felt longer than before. She didn't stop. She just kept going.

When she finally reached the clearing, the house stood quiet, bathed in a warm, fading glow. She slowed, her chest rising and falling with each breath.

She hesitated at the door, heart pounding, then pushed it open without knocking.

The wooden floor creaked beneath her feet as she stepped inside, the scent of herbs and memory-laced tea still lingering in the air.

"Hello?" she called softly, eyes scanning the dim room.