As Rancent and his friends gathered by the old oak tree, the excitement in the air was palpable. The sun was still shining brightly, casting long shadows across the fields, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves above their heads. The group was larger now, with a few more children having joined them, eager to explore the mysterious old mill that stood on the outskirts of the village. Edrin, always the one to take the lead, adjusted the strap of his satchel and grinned at the others.

“Alright, everyone ready? It’s not far, just past the edge of the forest.” Rancent glanced at the towering trees in the distance, their dark silhouettes looming ominously against the sky. He felt a slight chill run down his spine, but he pushed it aside, not wanting to appear frightened in front of his friends.

“Let’s go,”

he said, trying to sound as confident as Edrin. Teris, who had been quiet up until now, fell into step beside Rancent as they began their trek. “You ever been to the mill before?” Teris asked, his voice low.

Rancent shook his head. “No, but I’ve heard stories. They say it’s haunted, but that’s probably just to keep us away.” Teris nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. “Yeah, but there’s always some truth to the stories, don’t you think? I mean, why else would everyone be so scared of going there?”

Rancent didn’t have an answer for that, so he just shrugged. The group continued along the dirt path, their laughter and chatter filling the air as they made their way toward the forest. The fields soon gave way to dense trees, their branches intertwining to form a thick canopy overhead, casting the ground below in deep shade. As they entered the forest, the atmosphere changed.

The air was cooler, and the sunlight barely penetrated through the leaves. The sounds of the village faded, replaced by the eerie stillness of the woods. The children’s footsteps crunched on the fallen leaves, and every now and then, a bird would call out from somewhere high above, its cry echoing through the trees.

“Here we are,” Edrin announced, stopping at the edge of a clearing. The old mill stood in the distance, its once-sturdy structure now a crumbling ruin. Vines had overtaken the stone walls, and the wooden beams of the roof sagged under the weight of time and neglect. The children gathered around Edrin, their earlier bravado fading as they took in the sight of the mill.

“Looks like no one’s been here in years,” Teris said, his voice barely above a whisper. Rancent felt a knot of unease tightening in his stomach. There was something unsettling about the place, something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

He glanced at the others and saw the same unease reflected in their faces.

“Are we really going in?” one of the younger boys asked, his voice trembling. Edrin puffed out his chest, trying to appear brave. “Of course we are. We didn’t come all this way just to turn back now.”

But as they took their first steps toward the mill, a low rustling sound came from the trees behind them. The group froze, their eyes darting around the forest. “What was that?” Rancent whispered, his heart pounding in his chest. Teris nodded, his eyes narrowing as he peered into the shadows. “Probably just an animal. These woods are full of them.”

But the rustling grew louder, and then there was a snap, like a branch breaking under the weight of something heavy. The children huddled together, their earlier excitement replaced by a growing sense of dread. “Maybe we should go back,” one of the girls suggested, her voice shaking. But before anyone could move, a dark shape burst out from the underbrush. It was fast—too fast to see clearly—and before Rancent could even react, Teris was gone. One moment he was standing beside him, and the next, he was being dragged into the trees by something that moved with terrifying speed.

“Teris!” Rancent screamed, reaching out in vain as his friend disappeared into the darkness. The forest erupted in chaos. The other children screamed and started to run, their panic spreading like wildfire. Rancent stumbled back, his heart racing as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. He could hear Teris’s screams, muffled and distant, coming from deep within the woods. Then, without warning, a severed arm—Teris’s arm—was flung from the trees, landing with a sickening thud on the ground in front of them.

[Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab.]

Teri’s, armless while trying to keep his heart in his body. He gurgled on the blood coming up from his throat. He tried to scream, but the repeated stabs in his stomach kept him from screaming, and he was winded because the entity grabbed him by the neck.

[ Stab, Stab, Stab. ]

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The sight of it sent the children into a frenzy. They bolted in all directions, their terrified cries echoing through the forest. Rancent’s legs felt like they were made of lead, but he forced himself to move, his survival instincts kicking in.

He ran, not knowing where he was going, only that he needed to get away from whatever was in the woods.

As he fled, the sounds of the forest seemed to close in around him—branches snapping, leaves rustling, and the guttural screams of something monstrous following close behind. Rancent’s breath came in ragged gasps, his chest burning with the effort of running. He didn’t dare look back, afraid of what he might see. He stumbled over a root, nearly falling, but managed to keep his footing.

The village was so far away, and the forest seemed to stretch on forever. Rancent’s mind was a whirlwind of fear and confusion, his thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm.

But as he ran, one thought cut through the panic: Get out. Get home. He had to make it back, had to warn the others. Whatever had taken Teris was still out there, lurking in the shadows, and it wasn’t going to stop with just one victim.

The sounds of pursuit began to fade, but Rancent didn’t slow down. He kept running, fueled by pure terror, until the trees finally began to thin, and he saw the familiar sight of the village in the distance. He didn’t stop until he was back on the cobblestone streets, gasping for air, his body trembling with exhaustion and fear. The village was quiet, the peaceful morning shattered by the nightmare in the woods. Rancent looked around, searching for any sign of his friends, but there was no one. He was alone. He collapsed to his knees, his mind reeling from the horror of what had just happened.

The image of Teris’s arm lying in the dirt, the screams that still echoed in his ears—it was all too much. Hours passed, and the boy’s legs began to ache, his feet sore from the rocky terrain. Just as he was about to give up, he noticed a faint light ahead, a soft blue glow that stood out against the dark forest. His heart skipped a beat as he quickened his pace, the light growing brighter with each step.

Finally, he reached a clearing, and there it was—the Forgotten Vale. The stories hadn’t done it justice. The vale was a hidden paradise, a small valley surrounded by towering cliffs. In the center was a crystalline lake, its waters glowing with an ethereal light that seemed to pulse with life. But it wasn’t the lake that drew the boy’s attention—it was the massive tree that stood on the shore.

The tree was ancient, its bark silver and its leaves shimmering with a faint luminescence. At the base of the tree, half-buried in its roots, was a crystal unlike anything the boy had ever seen. It was about the size of his fist, its surface smooth and flawless, radiating a gentle, otherworldly glow.

The boy approached the tree cautiously, his eyes wide with awe. He could feel the power emanating from the crystal, a presence that seemed to reach out and envelop him. His hand trembled as he reached out to touch it. a figure emerged from the shadows—a tall, ethereal being, its form glowing with the same light as the crystal. The being’s gaze softened, and it extended its hand. “Then take the crystal, child. In this harsh world, you need wealth and fortune.”

The boy reached out, his fingers brushing against the crystal’s smooth surface. The moment he touched it, a surge of energy coursed through his body, nearly knocking him off his feet. The world around him seemed to blur, and he felt as though he were being pulled into the crystal itself, his consciousness expanding and shifting.

He carefully took the crystal, cradling it in his hands as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

As a naive but cynical child, he got suspicious and asked the being what was in it for themself? Before he could ask that, he suddenly vanished. Not a fade, or any trace. No sound, just gone. The blades of the grass did not move once when it left. He checked his pockets to see if anything from him was stolen, not that it was valuable anyway. The boy ran back to his village, checking behind him multiple times before leaving the area as a chill breeze crept behind his shoulder.

The boy’s heart raced as he stumbled through the forest, his small hands clutching the crystal so tightly that its edges dug into his skin. His body trembled with fear, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and terror. Blood—sticky, warm, and not his own—coated his clothes and hands, a stark reminder of the horror he had just witnessed. His breathing was ragged, each gasp a struggle as he forced himself to keep moving, to get away from the forest, away from whatever had just happened.

When he finally reached the outskirts of his village, the familiar sights of home brought no comfort. The small, worn-down cottages, the cobbled streets, and the faint glow of lanterns lighting the way through the evening mist—all of it felt distant and unreal.

He felt as if he were walking through a nightmare, his footsteps echoing too loudly in the eerie silence. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched, that something was still out there, lurking in the shadows, waiting for him.

Pushing through the village gates, he half-ran, half-stumbled to his home, a modest hut at the edge of town where his sister, Maeve, was waiting for him. She was only a year older, but she had always been the one to take care of him, especially after their parents had passed. As he burst through the door, Maeve’s face twisted with horror at the sight of him—disheveled, covered in blood, and clutching the glowing crystal as if it were his only lifeline.

“Rancent!” Maeve gasped, rushing to him. “What happened? What is this? Are you hurt?”

He tried to speak, but the words stuck in his throat, strangled by the memories of what he’d seen. The blood. The terror. The way the being had simply vanished, leaving him alone in the darkness. All he could do was shake his head, his eyes wide and filled with tears that refused to fall.

Maeve’s eyes were frantic as she inspected him, her hands trembling as she searched for wounds, but there were none—at least, none that she could see. “Whose blood is this?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, as if she were afraid of the answer.

Rancent finally found his voice, though it was small and broken. He stared at the ground, shell shocked from what had just happened.

[…]

As the three moons shined through the window, a red coated the white.