"Not all memories live in minds. Some are rooted in bark, buried in soil, whispered in leaf." — Scrolls of the Verdant Archive
🌿 Whispering Hollow — Valeh's Heartwood
As the three stepped deeper into the Hollow, the trees began to hum. Not with sound, but with feeling — a quiet thrum of recognition.
> "It knows us," Aarav murmured.
Shiva placed his hand on the bark of a blackwood tree. It pulsed gently, like a heartbeat.
> "Or it remembers what we carry," he said.
Meera knelt near a patch of soft green vines. Glyphs bloomed on the leaves as she touched them.
Suddenly, the clearing shifted. The trees bent inward. Roots curled up like fingers. In the center, a ring of stone rose from the moss.
🌀 The Circle of Seeing
They stood within the ring. A mist coiled around their feet.
Visions unfolded:
A city made of glass, crumbling under a silver storm.
A giant whose blood formed rivers.
Three children cradled by the Breath itself.
> "This isn't the future," Aarav whispered. "It's a warning."
> "Or a memory we haven't lived yet," Meera replied.
Then, a voice — deep, rooted, and vast — echoed through the forest:
> "You are not the first. But you may be the last."
The mist exploded upward.
🕯️ The Vault of Embers
Ash drifted through the chamber.
The fourth figure stood before an ancient gate sealed in living stone.
> "Valeh has stirred. The Trees remember. The Hollow speaks." "Unbind the gate," whispered one of the veiled three.
> "Not yet," the fourth said. "Let them choose. If they are truly the Ones, they will return with the Key."
Beneath the stone, something began to knock.