The mist had thinned, but the silence stayed heavy.
The path ahead wound through twisted trees, their branches tangled like reaching hands. Moss blanketed the ground, softening their steps, but each footfall still felt loud in the stillness.
They didn't speak much.
Not because they didn't want to—but because they felt watched.
It wasn't until late afternoon that they saw the hut.
It looked almost grown, not built. Roots had wrapped themselves into walls, vines formed a roof, and an enormous stone shaped like an open eye sat in the center of the clearing. It pulsed faintly with a light none of them could name.
Rumi raised a hand to halt the group.
"I don't like this," David said.
"That makes two of us," Leina muttered.
Then the door creaked open.
A figure stepped out. Cloaked in patchwork leathers and bark, hair streaked with ash and lichen. A woman, though age had carved her into something older than time. Her eyes—milky white—seemed to see them all at once.
"You've disturbed the quiet," she said.
The group froze.
"Forgive us," Mia said carefully. "We didn't mean to trespass."
"You didn't," the woman said, voice low like wind through grave branches. "The forest let you enter. That's worse."
She walked slowly toward them, her staff made of twisted antlers.
"No one comes this deep unless called," she continued. "Something summoned you. Or marked you."
Sarah stepped forward. "What is this place?"
"A threshold," the woman said. "Beyond it lies what was lost. What was hidden. And what you fear most."
Rumi stepped in front of Sarah. "Then we'll turn back."
"You can't," the woman said, smiling. "Not anymore. Not after the guardian saw you."
That sent a shiver through everyone.
The woman tilted her head. "You've been quarreling. Petty hearts, bruised egos, tangled affections..."
She turned to Mia. "You want to love one, but miss another."
To Sarah. "You followed him because you thought he needed you. But maybe you need him more."
To David. "You're afraid. Not of him surpassing you—but of not mattering when he does."
Then her gaze fell on Rumi.
"And you... you are changing. The forest likes that. But beware—those who change the fastest fall the hardest."
Rumi said nothing.
Instead, he stepped closer. "Tell us what you know. What's happening here?"
The woman gestured toward the hut. "Come inside. There is more to see."
They hesitated.
But one by one, they followed her in.
Inside, the walls were alive—roots shifted slowly, as if breathing. A table made of bone and bark stood in the center, covered in old drawings, strange herbs, and symbols etched in ash.
The woman pointed to one symbol: a ring of trees surrounding a black flame.
"This is where you're headed," she said. "The heart of the forest. The place the guardians protect. It wakes only when a great choice must be made."
"A choice?" Mia asked. "What kind of choice?"
"One of you will have to give something up," the woman said. "For the others to survive."
The air dropped cold.
Leina whispered, "Give what up?"
The woman looked at Rumi.
"Something only he can decide."