The forest seemed to breathe with unease.Every step Cipher took was cushioned by a carpet of scarlet leaves, their edges curling as though burned by some unseen flame. The Automaton perched lightly on his shoulder, its brass fingers occasionally flexing in rhythmic ticks, as though it were counting heartbeats.
The whispers of the shadow villagers had long since faded, leaving only the rasp of wind through crooked branches. Cipher kept Astralis loose in his hand, the great scythe balanced with an elegance that belied its size. The runes along its shaft glimmered faintly, like stars peeking through cloud.
Then he heard it—A sound too fragile for this corrupted world.A sob.
It was faint, muffled, but unmistakable: the sound of a child trying not to be heard.
Cipher froze. The Automaton cocked its head, the eye in its chest flickering brighter."Detection: anomaly. Emotional signature—fear. Location: twenty-three paces east."
Cipher adjusted his grip on the scythe, but he didn't move immediately. He let the sound reach him fully first. He listened. The way he did in the classroom, when a student thought their voice didn't matter.
He turned and began walking, quiet as a shadow.
The Hollow Tree
The sobbing led him to a clearing where an ancient oak stood twisted, hollowed by time or fire. Its gnarled roots jutted out like skeletal fingers, forming a natural shelter at its base.
Inside, pressed against the inner bark, was a girl.Her cloak—red once, now torn and soiled—hung in tatters around her trembling shoulders. Her hair was a tangled chestnut, her eyes wide and rimmed with panic. She clutched at the cloak as though it were the last thread keeping her from unraveling.
Cipher stopped several paces away, lowering Astralis so its blade angled toward the ground. He didn't speak right away. He simply knelt—slowly, deliberately—bringing his gaze level with hers.
The girl flinched, pressing herself deeper into the hollow."D-don't…" she whispered hoarsely. "He'll come back. He always comes back."
Cipher's brow furrowed."Who comes back?" he asked softly, his tone gentle, like coaxing a frightened student.
Her lips quivered. "…The Wolf. I—I've already been eaten once. I don't want it to happen again."
The Automaton shifted on Cipher's shoulder, mechanical joints clicking faintly. "Subject displays trauma imprint. Story cycle fragmented."
Cipher raised a hand slightly—not toward her, but as if to calm the Automaton itself. He kept his eyes on the girl.
"You're safe," he said. "At least for this moment. And I'm not here to hurt you."
She eyed the scythe, doubt flickering across her face. "That thing… it looks like his claws."
Cipher tilted the weapon, letting the starlight runes shimmer more gently."This?" He gave a small smile. "This isn't for tearing. It's for guiding. Think of it like a lantern in the dark."
Her breathing slowed, but fear still clung to her.
The Teacher's Voice
Cipher settled onto one knee fully, resting Astralis across his lap. He lowered his tone, making it softer, steady—the voice he used when a child was crying over a failed test or a scraped knee.
"I know you're scared," he said. "It's alright to be scared. Do you know what courage really is?"
The girl's lip trembled. She shook her head.
"Courage," Cipher said gently, "isn't about being fearless. It's about moving forward even when your hands are shaking. Even when your voice wants to give out. It means not letting the fear choose your path for you."
She blinked at him, as if the words were strange and heavy, almost too big for her to hold.
"…But I can't," she whispered. "I don't know how."
Cipher leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "That's alright. Do you know what teachers are for?"
Her eyes flickered up, confused.
"We don't expect you to know everything right away," Cipher said with a soft smile. "We walk with you until you do."
Something broke in her—quietly, like ice cracking. A sob escaped her lips, but this one wasn't just fear. It was release.
The Automaton tilted its head, its eye whirring. "Observation: resonance detected. Fear levels decreasing. Secondary effect—ambient corruption retreating."
Indeed, Cipher noticed it too. The hollow no longer felt suffocating. The darkness at the edges of the clearing had thinned, just slightly.
Cipher reached into his coat and pulled out a small piece of chalk he had carried for years, smooth and worn from countless lessons. He held it out.
"Here," he said. "Hold onto this. It's not much, but when you feel the fear rising, squeeze it. Remember what we said—courage isn't the absence of fear. It's the choice to keep walking."
Her small hand hesitated, then reached out and took the chalk.
"…I'm Red," she murmured, voice barely audible.
Cipher nodded. "Hello, Red. My name isn't important right now. You can call me Teacher, if you'd like."
The Automaton blinked, gears whirring as though amused. Cipher added, almost as an afterthought:"But remember—teacher is an occupation, not my name."
For the first time, Red gave a weak, trembling laugh.
The Howl
The moment was fragile, delicate as glass. And then it shattered.
A howl ripped through the forest.It wasn't the cry of a beast—it was a jagged, broken note that seemed to tear through the fabric of the story itself. The air shuddered. The ground trembled beneath the roots of the hollow tree.
Red's face drained of color. She curled into herself, clutching the chalk so hard it dug into her palm.
"He's coming," she whispered, terror flooding her again. "He always comes back."
Cipher rose to his feet, Astralis flowing back into his hand with an almost ceremonial grace. The runes along its shaft burned brighter now, responding to his resolve.
The Automaton's voice was sharper, urgent. "Warning: entity approach confirmed. The corrupted Wolf is near."
Cipher looked down at Red, his expression calm but firm."Then we'll face him," he said. "But not alone. Not anymore."
The howl echoed again, closer, shaking the scarlet leaves from the branches above. They fell around Cipher like drifting embers, framing him in crimson twilight.
He set his stance, the weight of Astralis balanced and ready.
And for the first time, Red wasn't completely swallowed by fear—because the Teacher stood before her.