It had rained during the night, and Falderfell was shrouded by mist when Raya woke. The air was damp and cool, the promise of more rain apparent with every breath. She could hear the clanging of pots together from below, signaling the start of the day. Her father would be bustling about in the bakery, and her mother would be on her way to fuss at her to get ready and help. Raya sat up in her bed, yawning as she began to rejoin the waking world. When her mother inevitably opened her door, her green dress was functionally fashionable and her hair in a dark brown braid behind her, earning a nod of approval as she turned back downstairs.

The stones of the bakery had been standing since before anyone could remember. Most of the buildings in Falderfell had the same story. The town was built by farmers who had come together untold hundreds of years ago to ensure safety in numbers in the forest. Raya's family had lived in these ancient stones for as long as anyone could remember. She walked down the rough-cut steps, the air around her warming with the heat of the great ovens of the bakery, the scent of bread and flour filling her nose.

Raya's father was tall and looked like he should be doing anything but the relatively gentle profession of a baker. He had been a tree cutter before meeting her mother, and his arms bulged with cords of muscle underneath his flour-dusted apron. His forearms were scarred from where a shadow wolf had attacked him as a boy. He smiled at his daughter as she rounded the door into the bakery and pulled an apron from the hook on the wall

"Just you and me today," he said, placing a massive sack of flour beside her with ease. "Ila is meeting with the Mothers Council."

Raya began measuring out flour and placing it on the stone slab. "Will they make a decision?" Raya's mother had been vying for the Mother's Council for almost a year. A year of deliberation, she was trying to convince the matriarchs that if she could organize feeding the Rangers and nearly every farmer in the safewood, then she could run the workings of a village with relative ease.

Her father shrugged as he returned to kneading the great heap of dough in front of him. "These things take time. Ila's as good a choice as any, better if you ask me." They set to work: mixing, kneading, resting, baking. The sheer volume of food that the safewood needed allotted very few breaks throughout the day, and the Harvest Festival was in a few days. This was her life and would be her life. Falderfell was a static place, and the villagers were content with that. Delusions of grandeur belonged with the Rangers. Before too long, Captain Gareth would be back in town, recruiting the sons and daughters for whom farming and village life were insufficient.

Soon enough, the small cistern of water they kept was empty. Raya's father easily hoisted it and placed it in Raya's flour-covered hands.

"You know, this seems like something you would be more suited to," Raya stated dryly as she pushed open the door with her foot.

"And you'd be well suited to listening to your father," he called out as he pulled a tray of pastries out of one of the stone ovens.

Carrying the clay pot, Raya made her way to the well. The mist had burned away, and the ominous clouds had cleared, the sun reflecting off the damp rooftops. The town made a circle around the well, with the shops and craftsmen the closest and the smaller houses for the farmers farther back in the circle. Ivy crept up the sides of the stone houses, their green arms a reminder that they could never truly be apart from the forest surrounding them. Around the well, the ground was paved with cracked stones that were still slick from the night's rain. Raya's foot slipped on a particularly slippery piece of moss, and she caught herself with a sharp breath.

As she lowered the pot and began pushing the ancient metal pump that drew the water from the well, she saw the boy who had been called Tefta. He was pushing a wheelbarrow of broken and dented tools into the open space of Jaret Ferrew's forge. He wore a clean shirt and non-ripped trousers, his hair neatly combed, and his arms were already beginning to look less spindly from work and Fey's cooking. That strange brand of his was covered by his collar now, and the rest of the town knew better than to question him about it.

They had only spoken in passing, Raya cheerfully greeting him and Tefta mumbling something in return. Raya had overheard Fey telling her mother that he had barely spoken to them the last week. 'The poor boy doesn't know who he is, where he's from, and has a strange brand on his neck,' her mother had replied. 'I'd be concerned if he talked for a month.'

Tefta began placing the tools on a bench behind Jaret, whose gloved hands were easily bigger than Raya's head, and bellow the flames as Jaret threw the tools into the forge to be melted down and reforged. A splash of water cold on her foot startled her. The pot had overflowed and splashed over her skirt. Raya sighed, poured out enough water to lift the cistern, and grabbed the handles, lifting it with considerable effort. She did her best to forget the strange boy with the brand as she rejoined her father in the bakery. Still, as she carried loaves of bread and pastries into the baskets to distribute throughout the village, her mind kept wandering back to that night, listening by the door to her mother and Fey talking.

'The poor boy, it breaks my heart what he must have been through, Ila. The forest was cruel to him. Just like it was to our Artur. That brand, Jaret says, couldn't have happened more than a few weeks ago. It still hasn't healed fully. Of course, I can't bring it up. It puts the poor boy in hysterics. He woke us up screaming last night. Me and Jaret rushed in, thought someone was strangling the boy from the way he was screaming. I had to hold him for over an hour to calm him down. He was screaming about kings in the shadows. I told him there was nothing there and that he was safe, but he kept going on and on about a ruined throne and hands of mist. The poor boy.'

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The chirping of insects was signaling the beginning of the sun's descent when Raya's father waved her out of the bakery. He would be finishing up early for the day to meet her mother at the village hall to see what had come of her still ongoing meeting with the Mothers.

"Find your friends; it's good for you to have some fun." The village was close-knit enough to leave their children and know they would be supervised by someone who cared. Raya walked across the stones of the village square. She swore that she had cleaned all the flour from her hair, but she dusted away bits of white as she found her way through the village.

Elin and Josef were where she expected to find them, sitting on a fence in the outer circle of houses just before the village gave way to fields of corn and potatoes. Elin was absent-mindedly drawing on a paper pad while her twin brother sharpened a stick with his knife. Elin smiled at Raya as she approached. Their father was a tree cutter who had known Raya's father since they were boys, and Raya had grown up playing with the twins since she could remember. Being twins, they looked like different aspects of each other; their blonde hair and oval faces looked similar in every way other than their respective genders.

"Your father finally let you out?" Josef remarked as he cut away at the stick. His boots were covered in mud from working in the safewood with his father.

"Mother is in the village hall. Baking bread takes a burning long time, and we have to have enough for the Festival. Especially with how much you eat," Raya said snidely.

"Don't mind him," Elin said as she closed her pad and flipped back her braid. "He's just mad because Father told him he'd have to be late to the Festival."

"Well, you'd be mad too if you had to miss half of the festival to cut more firewood," Josef waved his stick dramatically in the air. "As if we're not surrounded by damned firewood in this village."

"Anyway," Elin tucked her pad into her satchel and swung it over her shoulder. "That boy from the woods, Tefta?"

Raya nodded, sitting on the fence beside her. "Did you ever get him to talk to you? He ignores me."

Josef jumped from the fence, swatting at the ground with his pointed stick. "Even better. I convinced him to come to the Church with us."

Raya frowned. "Are you sure that's a good idea? It's getting dark and- "

Josef waved dismissively. "He'll be fine. The Church isn't that far away, and he made it here from farther away. I told him to meet us whenever Mr. Ferrew let him leave."

Tefta came plodding along from behind one of the houses as if summoned. Noticing the three of them, he waved shyly and came to stand next to Josef. Josef grinned and slapped him on the back. "You ready?" Tefta nodded and looked where the two girls were sitting on the fence, smiling faintly. "There's Raya and my sister Elin," Raya waved and jumped down.

]"Hello." Tefta's voice was soft as he waved at the two girls.

"Let's go," Elin said as she jumped from the fence beside Raya. "Father will have us strung up by the ankles if we're out too late." And so, following Elin, they marched on through the field, the rows of corn rising above their heads and casting long shadows in the evening light. Elin and Josef led the group, with Raya behind them and Tefta trailing in the back.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

"Are the Ferrews treating you well?" Raya asked, knowing the answer immediately. Fey Ferrew was a respected and generous village member; she simply wanted to start a conversation.

Tefta nodded. "Her and Jaret are kind to me. I like working the forge."

"They aren't making you call them mum and dad, are they?" Josef called back. Tefta shook his head.

"No. They don't make me do that."

Josef turned, walking backward as he talked, his stick held over his shoulder. "You don't talk a lot. Did you forget how to do that, too?"

"Stop it, Josef!" Raya snapped. "You're being mean."

"Maybe he's a wisp wight," Josef continued, grinning. "Maybe he's here to steal us away to the circle stones and trap our souls. Maybe-"

Jaret foot caught a rock that had been forgotten in the pathway, and he tumbled backward, landing on his back with a yell. Elin stopped and looked down at him, the corners of her mouth turning up. "You deserved that. Stop being mean before you bring a tree down on yourself." Josef scrambled to his feet, his face red with embarrassment, and stormed into the trees that marked the end of Falderfell and the beginning of the safewood.

As the trees rose around him and the canopy blocked out the already waning light, Raya slowed, walking beside Tefta along the dirt trail, her hands clasped in front of her. "Don't listen to Josef. He shouldn't be giving any advice about how much people talk."

Tefta smiled softly and shrugged. "I wish I had more to talk about, believe me."

"You'd tell me if you were a wisp wight, wouldn't you?"

Tefta's face twisted in confusion, and he pushed a strand of red hair away from his face. "What's a wisp wight?"

Josef snorted disbelievingly from ahead. "See? Can't remember a thing." This prompted a firm punch to the shoulder from his sister.

The trees loomed over the children as they walked along the dirt path. Around them chirped insects and birds. Raya could hear rustling in the brush beside them, squirrels or rabbits or curious roxies. The path led to a small bridge, just a wood plank, over a small creek. The creek swelled with water in the spring, rushing by with force. Sometimes, Raya would even see water nymphs jumping and playing in the current. The creek was small and slow today, barely more than a babbling trickle across the dirt and stone. Small bursts of orange flashed around them, fire moths releasing their rippling pulses of liquid light.

As they went further into the safewood, Josef and Elin arguing and Tefta silently walking next to Raya, she couldn't help but feel uneasy as the sky darkened. The safewood, especially so close to the village, was relatively harmless, but the village's adults still didn't allow their children to wander about it alone, path or not. Her father would worry if she came home too late after dark and if he discovered she had been in the forest…Raya pushed the thought of impending punishment out of her mind and focused on the forest around her. It could be beautiful at night.

The Church was a rotted wooden structure about a mile out from the village that collapsed more every time Raya saw it. It lay in the center of a clearing and was surrounded by cracked stone obelisks. Some had runes still visible carved into them that none of the children in the days past or present had been able to make sense of. The building was tall, the roof low to the ground at the doorway and angled until it reached almost the top of the trees. The door had rotted away some time ago, and Raya could see through holes left by time or storms into the building.

"Who built it?" Tefta asked softly, staring in the doorway.

Josef shrugged. "No one knows. All we know is that it's here, it's old, and my uncle found a suit of armor buried behind it once."

"No, he didn't," Raya retorted to the boast.

"Yes, he did!" Josef exclaimed, looking at Elin to back him up. She shrugged, uninterested in the argument, and walked into the doorway, the shadows enveloping her. Josef grabbed Tefta by the arm, pulling him with him. "Come on. I'll show you where he found it." They disappeared behind the Church, Josef yammering on in his usual way, leaving Raya alone.

She began to walk towards the doorway to follow Elin but yelped in surprise as something gave way beneath her foot, almost causing her to twist her ankle. She looked down, lifting her skirts as she crouched to examine what she had stepped on. Underneath here was a rotted box of wood, cracked by her weight. She had been here countless times with her friends but had never seen it. It must have been buried, and the rain finally washed enough soil away for exposure. There was something inside the ancient wood. She reached inside, grabbing something round and cold. Pulling it up, she dusted away the rotted wood and soil to reveal a smooth stone, perfectly round, with a twisting, jagged rune carved into the middle. She turned the stone in her fingers, examining it.

"Raya!" Elin called out. She was standing in the doorway, playing with the end of her long braid. "Are you okay? I heard you yell."

Raya nodded. "I'm fine. I just tripped, is all." She brushed the dirt off her skirt. Her mother would have a fit with her.

"What's that?" Elin motioned towards the stone in her hand."

Raya shrugged. "I don't know. I just found it he-- "A pulsating sound that shook the inside of Raya's chest and hurt her ears cut her off. She froze; Elin's face was a mask of terror. That sound. It came again, stronger, pulsing faster.

"Get inside!" Elin whispered sharply, her eyes tearing up with sudden panic. She motioned for Raya, and they both darted inside the Church. The interior was a jumble of rotted pews and forest detritus. What was left of the daylight shone through the holes in the roof. She and Elin huddled into a corner in what she hoped was a hidden shadow.

The sound came again, pulsating faster and faster, its deepness buzzing Raya's skull. Elin whimpered beside her, holding onto her arm as they curled deeper into the shadows. Where were Josef and Tefta? Had they hidden in time?

The Church shook as the oak shade darted in through one of the holes in the roof. Its body was a constantly shifting pattern of bark that formed the shape of a massive, muscled man. When it moved, the bark became a formless cloud that moved at blinding speed before reforming. It stood in the middle of the Church, pulsating and thrumming.

Raya and Elin were frozen, staring at the shade as it darted around the interior of the Church, forming and reforming. She would die here. She was certain. They would be found and torn limb from limb by the vengeful spirit. Then Josef and Tefta would die, too. Please leave. She hadn't realized she still held the stone clasped in both hands. Elin was shaking, tears rolling down the girl's face as she held onto Raya.

Leaveusaloneleaveusaloneleaveusalone, Raya's heart pounded so fast she thought it would rip out of her chest and onto the floor. Leaveusaloneleaveusaloneleaveusalone, her grip tightened around the stone in her hand, her knuckles pained from the strain. Leaveusaloneleaveusaloneleaveusalone, something shifted. Something was different.

LEAVE US ALONE

The words rang in Raya's head, pushing out like a ripple on a pond. The oak shade froze, its head cocked sideways as if confused. The pulsing stopped for a moment. There was one last terrible thrum that reverberated throughout Raya's entire body. Then the shade dissolved and darted back through the roof, leaving the two girls huddled in the corner, covered in dirt and tears.

Raya's head pounded. She was motionless for a while. The shade was coming back. This was a cruel joke, and if she or Elin moved, it would return to enact its wrath upon them. Elin huddled against her, sobbing quietly. A familiar and gruff voice called out from outside, relief washing over her as she heard it.

"Raya, Elin! Are you in there?" George called as he ducked through the short doorway. The Ranger had his hood drawn over his face and his bow in hand. He scanned the inside of the ruined Church, his face softening in relief as he saw the two girls. "You're safe, the shade's gone. I'm taking you back to the village."

Elin scrambled to her feet beside Raya, wiping tears from her face as she ran toward the Ranger. Raya realized that her hands were still clenched together painfully. She softened her grip, looking for the strange stone. Dust spilled out from between her fingers, falling upon the soft dirt of the floor. She stared at the scattered pile, her mind too frazzled from the terror of the encounter to process what was happening.

"Josef…" Elin demanded, her voice quiet and shaking.

"He and the new boy are safe, " the Ranger reassured her. I hid them in the bushes when they appeared." He motioned for Raya. Come now; I've got to get you back to the village."

Raya stood up, wiping the dust from her hands on her skirt as she followed the Ranger out of the Church. Josef and Tefta stood waiting outside, wide-eyed and staring at the dirt. George pulled back his hood and slung his bow across his back, beckoning the children to follow him back into the trees. The last of the evening light was falling below the trees, and they hurried as they followed the Ranger along the steadily darkening trails.

"How did you know to find us?" Josef finally spoke up.

"What kind of Ranger would I be if I let you lot run into the forest at night without proper supervision?" Jeorge replied dryly.

"Are you going to tell our parents?" Elin asked hopefully.

Jeorge snorted. "Well, I wasn't planning on it until you attracted a burning oak shade, but now I have a moral obligation to do so." Josef groaned at this.

Raya's mind drifted back to the strange stone as the children followed the Ranger out of the forest. Had she really crushed it to dust? The way the shade reacted seemed more than just coincidence. When George returned her to her father, the scolding and punishment of being confined to her room for two weeks almost put the idea out of her mind. Almost.

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When the boy called Tefta returned home, Jaret gave him a stern discussion about the dangers of the forest but was not familiar enough yet to give him any real punishment. He was told to go to his room and not to see the twins until Jaret and Fey had had a long discussion with their father. He lay in bed for a while, staring at the stone roof, thinking about the deep thrumming noise that the oak shade had made. He tried to see if that sound brought back any memories before he stumbled into camp, but he failed the same as countless other times.

Rubbing the raised skin on the back of his neck, it itched horribly sometimes; the boy curled into the blankets of his bed. Sleep didn't come easily. When he did drift into unconsciousness, he dreamt of that horrible, jagged throne and burning hands in the mist.