Chapter 15 – Whispers Beneath the Bark
The morning air was sharper than before—still, clean, but carrying a weight that pressed against the lungs. Even the forest seemed to hold its breath.
They were supposed to be continuing the exam. A simple trail hike with task markers, observation checks, and teamwork evaluations. Simple—except nothing in this forest was ever just simple.
Raymond kicked at the soil, squinting ahead. "I swear the path was straighter yesterday. Either that, or the trees are gaslighting us."
"Trees don't move," Anna said, scanning her notes.
"Maybe they do," Alex muttered, her tone airy, but her eyes didn't quite meet theirs. "We're just too small to notice."
The joke landed halfway—Anna huffed quietly, Raymond smirked—but the silence afterward dragged.
Something was wrong with the air. Thicker, like honey in the lungs.
---
They trekked on, the forest swallowing the sounds of their boots and chatter.
Each step left a faint mark in the moss, only for the ground to smooth itself moments later.
It was Raymond who caught it first.
"Uh, okay. Either I'm losing my mind, or we're walking on self-healing dirt." He crouched, touching the earth. "Our footprints—look."
Anna bent beside him, squinting. "Could be moisture redistribution," she said quickly, words spilling into logic. "Temperature shifts can—"
Alex cut her off with a dry laugh. "Right, because this forest clearly obeys physics."
It was a joke, but her voice cracked on the last word.
Her pulse thudded beneath her collarbone.
The mark at her neck was faintly warm, a heartbeat of its own.
Anna opened her mouth, maybe to reassure her, but the forest got there first.
A wind passed through—not a gust, but a breath. The leaves trembled, and for a heartbeat, Alex thought she heard her name.
> "Alexandra."
Her head snapped up. "Did you hear that?"
Raymond frowned. "Hear what?"
"Nothing," she said too fast. "Probably birds. You know. Birds with… great pronunciation."
He squinted at her. "Right."
Anna didn't push. She just walked closer, shoulder brushing Alex's for half a second. That simple, steady presence. But Alex's muscles didn't loosen—if anything, the contact made her realize how tense she'd been all morning.
---
By afternoon, the sunlight had dulled to a bruise-colored haze. The forest's shadows had grown longer, thicker, like a net pulling tighter around them.
When they stopped to rest, Anna unrolled their map, brow furrowed. "We're supposed to have reached the third marker by now."
"We did," Raymond said. "Twice."
Alex snorted, kicking at a rock. "Maybe it's a test. See how long before we snap."
Raymond chuckled. "I'm getting there."
But when they moved again, no one talked much. Even the jokes felt too loud, too artificial.
Every now and then, Alex would glance over her shoulder—half expecting to see someone there.
Half hoping she would.
> "Alexandra…"
The voice again, almost inside her chest this time.
She stumbled. Her breath hitched.
"Hey." Raymond's hand steadied her. "You good?"
"Fine," she said automatically.
It was her favorite lie.
She said it so often it almost sounded true.
---
Night fell hard that day, like a curtain dropping.
Back at the cabins, the students filtered in with tired faces and dirt-stained clothes. Anna had been pulled aside to help Claire with class reports, and Raymond had volunteered for cleanup duty with Gabriel—leaving Alex alone in the dim cabin.
She sat on her bunk, motionless for a long time.
The lamplight was soft, golden, barely touching the edges of the room.On a table beside her bed,her notes were scattered—ink smudged, words half-crossed, margins a battlefield. She tried to make order of it once, but chaos suited her better.
Her reflection in the mirror wasn't.
Alex touched her neck absently. The serpent mark glowed faintly under her fingers, like it was breathing.
> "You're supposed to be strong," she whispered. "You're supposed to make it look easy."
The mirror didn't argue. It never did.
She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, head in her hands. "You're such a mess," she murmured, half-laughing. "All this, and you still want them to think you've got it together."
Outside, the forest murmured. Not the usual wind—it was softer, closer.
Almost… listening.
Her mark pulsed once—sharp. She hissed, clutching her neck.
"Don't," she whispered, voice trembling. "Not now. Please, not now."
> "Alexandra…"
The voice came from the window this time. The sound was wrong—too human to be wind, too soft to be real.
She rose slowly, the floor creaking under her bare feet, and walked to the window. The trees outside were still silhouettes in the moonlight. No movement. No shape. Just quiet.
> "I'm losing it," she said softly, and this time it almost sounded like peace.
The door creaked open behind her.
"Alex?"
Anna stood in the doorway, hair pulled into a messy bun, exhaustion in her eyes.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
Alex turned, that bright smile snapping into place like a shield. "Nah, couldn't sleep anyway. How was report duty?"
"Boring," Anna said, stepping inside. "You okay?"
Alex tilted her head, grin still plastered on. "Always."
Anna didn't answer. Just gave her that small, knowing smile—the kind that said she didn't believe it but wouldn't press.
She sat down on her own bunk, the quiet between them soft and familiar.
But when the lamp finally went out, Alex's eyes stayed open. The mark on her neck glowed faintly through the dark, matching the rhythm of her heartbeat.
And somewhere deep in the forest, the same light pulsed back in answer.
> "When the lights went out, she closed her eyes—and the forest behind them was waiting."