The storm rolled in without warning, cloaking the valley in shadows and silence. Leah stood at the edge of the forest, her lantern casting trembling light on the path ahead. The folk in the village warned her never to wander past the old oak after dusk—whispers spoke of eyes in the trees and voices in the wind.
But Leah wasn’t like the other villagers.
She pressed forward, heart hammering against her ribs. The deeper she went, the quieter the world became, as if the woods held its breath. Then she saw it: a shimmer between two trees, like moonlight trapped in mist. She stepped closer.
A figure emerged—not man, not beast, but something older, stranger. Its voice rippled like water. “Why do you come, child of the stone houses?”
“To know the truth,” Leah said, steady despite the cold threading through her bones.
The creature studied her for a long moment. Then it raised a hand, and the forest came alive with echoes of ancient songs, long forgotten by human ears.
When Leah returned at dawn, the village stared.
She smiled, her eyes reflecting a light no fire could make.
The folk never spoke of the forest again. But Leah remembered.

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