The Forest of Spirits. It’s just outside of a town called Vilhem. It is a place clouded by sadness and desolation. It’s named for all the Lost Spirits that get trapped there.

The Spirit Stream, where a spirit goes when somebody dies, and their spirit leaves their body. The Spirit Stream is just a flow of energy that leads to the Spirit World. Sometimes, a spirit gets lost along the way and ends up in that forest. It’s only that one place where they get trapped. Some say it’s because that’s where The Veil between worlds is the thinnest. Another theory is that it was cursed thousands of years ago by angry Gods, which broke the Spirit Stream in the forest.

There are a few brave spiritwalkers who specialize in leading those Lost Ones back into the flow of energy so they can find their way to where they belong. Dealing with those things isn’t an easy thing to do. It’s even harder when the Shadows are around.

“There is a darkness here,” Skid said.

The trinket in his hands glowed. An amulet forged of silver, rounded, and slotted with clear gems. The gems were inactive going into the forest. The deeper they got, it surrounded with smoky, curling shadows.

“I see it just fine,” Platan said, “They’re fuckin’ everywhere.”

“Where’d they all come from?” Minnow asked.

“We can’t guide them all in time, son. Some go dark. That’s what the Spirit Dial is for. To banish the dark spirits, instead of guidin’.”

“We got the light, too.”

Platan nodded.

He pulled out a small bottle with runes on it. A ball of light, tiny but powerful, floated around inside with no one to direct it. Pure, concentrated energy. Borrowed. A gift from a people who were no more.

But, maybe not.

The Forest—no, the world—would be doomed without them.

There was still a small hope. Two had escaped. One of them had a chance to be one. That is all they needed. It had been over twenty years, though. Hope dwindled over that time. Perhaps the two were found and followed the fate of the rest of their people. Perhaps they are still on that island. Safe. Perhaps they would find their way home someday.

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

All they had what’s left in the bottle. A limited supply, and the Shadow threat grew.

“No wonder the Wolf Tribe won’t go near this place,” Minnow said.

“They have their superstitions for a reason,” Skid said, “They are aware of things most of us cannot imagine.”

Platan felt a pit in his stomach.

Dozens of thin oval shapes of light surrounded them, the edges of which seemed to be torn fabric of The Veil. The light not natural to the world they lived in, but rather natural to another world. A light emanating pure energy that a most people do not see.

Smoky trails of shadows seeped from the oval shaped lights, spreading into the forest around them. A darkness infected the forest and everything in it, making the already potent supernatural happenings there even worse. Twisting it into something far more dangerous.

The Shadows seeping into our world took shape. A person. It floated along aimlessly leaving behind a smoky black trail. In the trail, more Shadows took form. More people. One of them shapeshifted into a giant beast with indiscernible features.

“These are man-made,” Platan said. His eyes narrowed. “We’re not alone. Let’s go. We’ve been lingerin’ too long.”

“How are we going to fix this?” Skid asked.

“We can’t.”

Platan headed deeper into the forest with Skid following close behind. Minnow trailed behind Skid, unmoved by the dark that enveloped him outside of Platan’s light.

“There’s only one thing that could have made all these. It’s—,” Minnow said.

A gurgling sound came from behind them. A horrible energy filled the area.

Platan’s breath caught in his throat. He spun around.

Skid shrieked like a banshee and toppled backwards.

Platan froze.

Minnow, snared by Shadows.

The smoky trails of shadows surrounded him, entering into him through his mouth, his eyes, everywhere they could. They surrounded him in a vortex of darkness, covering him almost entirely. There were shapes of several faces within the Shadows, twisted and demented. They were writhing like a pile of worms. Desperate and hungry, they continued to feed.

“H-help—,” Minnow croaked. His hand, already infected with the Corruption, reached out. Interconnecting black lines of spread through his body.

The Shadows pulled him away.

Platan shook himself and met Minnow’s reach.

“I got ya’, just hold on!” Platan called out.

Minnow’s hand slipped.

Platan dropped the bottle. Both hands holding him, pulling against the force. A force far beyond his own strength. His heels dug into the earth. The Shadows pulled Minnow away like being sucked into a tornado. His sapphire eyes, wide and desperate, looking to Platan for answers when he had none.

Or did he?

The bottle.

The light could chase them off.

“Skid!” Platan shouted. “Get the bottle!”

His hand escaped Platan’s grip. The forces dragged him away. The last thing they saw, his reaching hand. The last thing they heard, his cries. He disappeared into the darkness of the forest, carried away by dark forces. Tearing him apart, infecting him, leaving naught a sign behind.