The forest whispered with a language only Sol could hear. It wasn’t words exactly—more like feelings, impressions. The rustle of the leaves carried a warning. The wind brushing against his skin whispered urgency. The soft crunch of their footsteps on the mossy ground felt too loud, as though they were intruding on something ancient and alive.

Sol walked ahead, his senses attuned to the forest. He didn’t know where he was leading them, but his gut pulled him forward, each step driven by an invisible thread he couldn’t see but could feel. Behind him, the Girl followed closely, her movements careful and deliberate. The Boy lingered at the edge of the group, his breaths uneven, his eyes darting into the shadows.

“They’re following us,” the Boy whispered, his voice breaking the stillness. He clutched his arms tightly, his body trembling. “I can feel it.”

Sol stopped, glancing back at him. He scanned the forest, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the spaces between the trees. There was nothing there—no movement, no sound. But he didn’t trust what his eyes told him. He closed them for a moment, letting his other senses take over.

A shiver ran down his spine, the hair on his arms standing on end. He couldn’t see them, but he knew the Boy was right. Something was following them.

“We need to keep moving,” Sol said, his voice calm but firm. He placed a hand on the Boy’s shoulder, grounding him. “It’s not close yet, but it will be if we stop.”

The Girl stepped closer, her gaze sharp. “Do you know where we’re going?” she asked, her voice low.

“No,” Sol admitted. “But I’ll know when we get there.”

She studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Then lead. I’ll watch our back.”

---

The forest grew darker as they moved, the thick canopy above blocking out the faint light of the moon. Sol’s breathing was steady, but his mind raced. He felt the pull again, that strange tug deep in his chest that guided his steps. It wasn’t logical—it didn’t make sense—but he had learned to trust it.

It wasn’t the first time he had felt it. The first memory was vague, hazy, like a dream. He was in a room, the air thick with incense, the walls lined with symbols that seemed to move when he wasn’t looking at them. There was chanting—low, rhythmic—and a voice, sharp and clear, cutting through the noise. “Listen,” it had said. “You can hear what they cannot.”

He had dismissed it then, thinking it was a trick of the mind, a hallucination brought on by fear. But now, as he moved through the forest, he realized it wasn’t. The voice had been right. He could hear it—the whispers of the forest, the pull of something deeper.

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The Girl’s voice broke his thoughts. “Stop,” she said sharply.

Sol froze, turning to face her. She wasn’t looking at him; her gaze was fixed on something ahead. He followed her line of sight and saw it—a faint glow in the distance, pulsing softly through the trees.

“What is that?” the Boy asked, his voice trembling.

“I don’t know,” Sol said, his gut tightening. The glow was familiar, like something from a dream—or a memory. He glanced at the Girl. “Do you feel it?”

She nodded, her expression tense. “It’s...pulling me.”

“Me too,” Sol admitted. He glanced at the Boy, who shook his head.

“No,” the Boy said, taking a step back. “I don’t like it. It’s wrong.”

Sol hesitated. The pull was stronger now, a magnetic force he couldn’t resist. But the Boy’s fear was real, and he couldn’t ignore it. “Stay close,” he said finally. “We’ll see what it is, but we won’t go too far.”

The three of them moved cautiously toward the light. The closer they got, the stronger the pull became. Sol’s head buzzed with fragments of thoughts and images—symbols etched in stone, hands raised in supplication, a circle of faces obscured by shadow. None of it made sense, but all of it felt important.

They stepped into a clearing, and Sol stopped abruptly. At the center of the space stood a massive stone, split down the middle. The symbols carved into its surface glowed faintly, their edges shimmering like embers. The light wasn’t natural; it pulsed in time with something deep inside him, as though it were alive.

The Girl approached the stone slowly, her hand outstretched. “I’ve seen this before,” she murmured, her voice distant.

Sol stepped closer, his brow furrowed. “Where?”

“In dreams,” she said, shaking her head. “Or maybe...before.”

Sol knelt by the stone, his fingers tracing the symbols. The carvings were intricate, precise, but they didn’t make sense. They weren’t words—not ones he could read—but they felt like a message. He closed his eyes, focusing on the energy pulsing from the stone. Flashes of images filled his mind: the cult’s chamber, the chanting, the blinding light of a ritual. And then, a voice.

“Sol.”

His eyes snapped open. The voice wasn’t external; it was inside his head, deep and resonant. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard it. He looked at the Girl, who was staring at him intently.

“What is it?” she asked.

Sol hesitated. “Nothing,” he said, though his voice was strained. He turned to the Boy. “Do you feel anything?”

“No,” the Boy said quickly. “But I don’t want to. We shouldn’t be here.”

The stone pulsed again, brighter this time, and Sol staggered back. His mind reeled as another flash of images overwhelmed him: the three of them, older and scarred, standing before the stone as it glowed fiercely. The Girl held a shard of it in her hand, her face grim.

“We have to go back,” she said in the vision. “It’s the only way.”

Sol’s breath hitched, his pulse racing. The vision faded, and he was back in the clearing, the stone’s light dimming. He looked at the Girl and the Boy, his voice trembling. “We’ve been here before.”

“What do you mean?” the Girl asked.

“I don’t know,” Sol said. “But this place...it’s part of something bigger.”

The Girl glanced at the stone, then back at him. “What now?”

Sol steadied himself, his gut tightening. “We keep moving. There’s more to this.”

And deep down, he knew: the answers lay ahead, waiting to be uncovered.

---

End of Chapter 1