Kaelion blinked.
Evren's grip on his sword tightened, his instincts screaming—this isn't normal. No child would wander these cursed woods alone, not laughing, not smiling, not waiting.
"Waiting for us?" Evren echoed, his tone colder than the wind. "Why?"
Lioran gave a little twirl, arms out like he was dancing in some invisible spotlight. "I don't know. But I knew you'd come. I've dreamed about you. You—" he pointed at Kaelion, "—always look angry. And you—" his gaze flicked to Evren, "—never stop looking like you're one breath away from stabbing someone."
Kaelion raised an eyebrow.
Evren did not smile.
"What are you really, boy?" Kaelion asked, voice calm but probing. "No child lives out here alone."
"I'm not alone," Lioran said quietly. "I have the forest. The wind. The stars. Sometimes… the wolves come too. They don't bite unless I tell them to."
Evren stepped forward. "Enough games. What's your story?"
Lioran's grin faded.
For a second, a flicker of pain crossed his face—so fast Evren wasn't sure it was real.
"I had a home once," Lioran said. "Then men came with fire. Took it. Burned it. I ran so far I forgot where I was running from."
Kaelion's expression shifted. Subtly. But Evren noticed it.
"Where are your parents?"
Lioran didn't answer. Instead, he looked up at the canopy and whispered, "I think the trees ate them."
The silence after that was thick.
Then—he smiled again. "But it's fine. You're here now."
Kaelion exchanged a glance with Evren, and for the first time, Evren felt a strange weight in his chest. Pity? No—something softer. Dangerous.
Lioran yawned and rubbed his eyes.
"Can I come with you?" he asked, looking small, for the first time.
Kaelion didn't hesitate. "Yes."
Evren turned sharply. "Are you mad?"
"He's just a child."
"No one is just anything in these woods."
Kaelion looked at Lioran again. "We keep moving at first light. Stay close. And don't lie to us again."
Lioran smiled and gave a little mock salute. "Aye, your grumpiness."
---
That night, the wind howled louder than ever.
But near the fire, Lioran curled up between them—like he belonged there.
And as Evren turned over, pretending to sleep, he saw it.
Lioran had no shadow.
The fire crackled low. Evren didn't sleep.
His eyes were fixed on the small form lying just a few feet away—Lioran, soft breaths rising and falling like any normal child. But that shadowless truth from earlier clung to Evren's thoughts like a curse.
Kaelion, resting on the other side of the fire, had his eyes closed, but Evren could tell he wasn't asleep either.
"You saw it too," Evren finally said.
Kaelion opened his eyes. "Yes."
"Then why bring him?"
"He's not a threat. Yet."
Evren scoffed. "That's not comforting."
Kaelion turned his head, staring at Lioran with an unreadable expression. "If something wanted to kill us, it wouldn't wear the skin of a child. It would strike. But he hasn't. He's alone… like we are."
Evren didn't like it. Trusting strangers wasn't in his nature, especially ones who appeared mysteriously in cursed woods, spoke in riddles, and had no shadow.
But as the wind howled outside their temporary shelter, Lioran stirred.
In his sleep, he murmured, "He's watching…"
Evren's hand was instantly on his sword.
Kaelion sat upright.
"Who?" Kaelion demanded softly, leaning closer.
Lioran flinched, voice trembling even in his dreams. "The One Who Watches… through the trees… behind the veil… he's always—always watching—"
"Wake him," Kaelion said.
Evren grabbed Lioran's shoulder. "Lioran."
Lioran woke with a small gasp, blinking rapidly.
"You were dreaming," Evren said, but it wasn't a question.
"I don't remember," Lioran whispered, hugging himself. "I never do."
There was a new kind of fear in his eyes now—one that hadn't been there when they met him.
Evren leaned closer. "Who is he? The one you were talking about?"
Lioran shook his head. "No one. I must've… imagined it."
Evren didn't believe him.
And Kaelion didn't push him.
But outside, in the forest that never slept, something shifted in the darkness. Leaves whispered secrets to each other, and a pair of unseen eyes blinked—once, slowly.
The One Who Watches had noticed.
The journey resumed at dawn.
Mist clung low to the forest floor, coiling around their boots as they walked. Lioran walked between them, oddly quiet, his playful demeanor gone—like a flame that had been snuffed out overnight.
Evren noticed how the birds didn't sing here.
"How long do we have to stay in this cursed place?" he muttered, eyes scanning the trees.
Kaelion didn't answer immediately. His gaze was locked ahead, where the forest grew darker instead of lighter. "Until we find the ruins. There's something there we need."
"Of course there is," Evren replied under his breath. "Because nothing's ever simple with you."
Suddenly, Lioran stopped.
He stared at an enormous tree with bark as black as ash. It rose impossibly tall, its branches twisting like skeletal fingers. Etchings—strange runes—glowed faintly along its trunk.
"The Tree of Whispers," Lioran said, eyes wide. "It remembers everything."
Evren turned sharply. "You know what this is?"
"No," Lioran answered too quickly. "I mean—I think I read about it. Somewhere. In a dream maybe…"
Kaelion stepped toward the tree and laid his palm on it.
Instantly, his eyes went glassy.
"Kaelion?" Evren took a step forward.
But Kaelion didn't move.
A low hum vibrated from the bark, like a deep, ancient voice whispering through wood and time. Lioran backed away.
"He's listening," the boy whispered. "They all listen if you touch it."
Evren reached out to grab Kaelion—but the moment his fingers brushed Kaelion's shoulder—
He saw fire.
Bodies.
A crown breaking apart.
A scream that wasn't a sound, but a soul tearing in two.
Then—
Darkness.
Evren stumbled back, gasping.
Kaelion blinked slowly and turned. "It showed me… a path. The right one. But it comes with a price."
"What kind of price?" Evren asked warily.
Kaelion looked down at Lioran.
And for a moment—just one breath—his expression faltered.
Not pity.
Not doubt.
Just… sorrow.
"The kind we can't pay without bleeding," he said.
They didn't speak of the tree again.
Even Lioran—usually the source of endless chatter—kept to himself as they moved deeper into the forest. But something had shifted. Evren felt it like a stone in his chest.
Kaelion walked ahead, always watching, always quiet.
Evren finally caught up to Lioran and nudged him lightly. "You okay?"
The boy looked up, startled, then forced a smile. "Of course I am! Just… thinking about how much I miss honey tarts. I'd kill for one."
"You don't have to pretend," Evren said, voice low. "Whatever that tree did—it shook you, too."
Lioran hesitated. His eyes darted toward Kaelion, then back to Evren. He leaned in closer and whispered, "I think Kaelion saw something worse than either of us did. Something that's already happening."
"What do you mean?"
Lioran's smile didn't reach his eyes this time. "It's in his eyes. That kind of sorrow—it doesn't come from the past. It comes from knowing the future."
Before Evren could respond, Kaelion suddenly raised a hand, signaling them to stop. His voice was sharp, commanding. "Someone's following us."
They turned as one, blades drawn.
Rustling.
Then—
Out stepped a woman cloaked in deep red. Her face was hidden by a veil, but her voice was smooth as silk.
"Prince Kaelion. I didn't think you'd return here."
Kaelion's jaw tightened. "And yet here I am. Countess Virelle."
Evren exchanged a glance with Lioran. "Friend of yours?"
"Not in the slightest," Kaelion said flatly. "She serves the High Circle."
The woman stepped closer, eyes flicking toward Lioran.
"And what's this?" she purred. "A stray?"
Evren stepped in front of the boy. "He's with us."
Virelle chuckled softly. "Then you've already made your first mistake. The forest devours those it favors most."
Kaelion didn't move. "State your purpose."
"I came to warn you," she said. "The Circle knows what you seek in the ruins. And they're coming."
Kaelion's fingers twitched at his side. "Let them."
"No," she said, more gently now. "You don't understand. They're not coming to stop you."
A pause.
"They're coming to kill what you're about to awaken."
The silence that followed her warning was heavier than thunder.
Lioran clutched Evren's sleeve now, no longer trying to hide his fear. Kaelion, on the other hand, remained calm—but Evren noticed his hand was clenched so tightly his knuckles had gone white.
Evren narrowed his eyes. "What exactly do you mean by that? Kill what?"
Countess Virelle tilted her head. "What do you think lies beneath the ruins you're so eager to reach? Power? Truth? Salvation?" She stepped closer, her voice low. "What sleeps down there is older than your kingdom, older than your bloodline, Kaelion. It is not something to awaken."
Kaelion's voice was cold. "You never answered why you care."
"I don't," she replied simply. "But I owe your mother a favor."
That made Kaelion flinch.
Lioran blinked. "Wait—you knew his mother?"
The countess didn't answer. Instead, she stepped backward, already turning into mist and shadows. "Go if you must. Just remember this: you weren't meant to be the key."
Then she vanished.
---
They moved again, more cautiously now. The path narrowed as they reached a crumbled stone bridge overlooking a vast chasm, vines thick with age curling around shattered marble.
Evren couldn't take it anymore.
"What the hell did she mean by 'you weren't meant to be the key'?"
Kaelion stopped at the edge of the bridge. "She meant what she said."
"Explain."
The prince turned to him then—truly looked at him. "The prophecy… it never mentioned a name. Only that a soul bound by magic and sacrifice would awaken the gate."
Evren froze. "You think that's me?"
"I know it's you."
Lioran stepped forward. "But… why you? Why not the prince?"
Kaelion smiled bitterly. "Because I was born with the burden. He was chosen by it."
Before Evren could reply, a rumble tore through the ground. From the bottom of the chasm below, light—black and gold—began to rise like fireflies.
Something ancient had stirred.
And the gate… was beginning to open.