The moon had risen higher, pale and heavy, when Aerin stepped beyond the narrow path that led to the heart of the forest. Her breath clouded in the chill, and even the stars above seemed dimmer here, their light filtered through the thick canopy of branches that knotted together like interlocking fingers. She moved slowly, every crunch of leaf beneath her boots echoing far louder than it should have. The forest was awake, and she could feel it watching.
For hours she had followed a faint shimmer that glowed between the trees — a silver flicker that appeared only when she blinked, vanishing the moment she looked straight at it. At first, she thought it was her imagination, or maybe just the reflection of moonlight on dew. But as she pressed on, the shimmer grew stronger, guiding her like a whisper that didn't use words.
At last, she stumbled into a clearing — and froze.
Before her stood a willow unlike any she had ever seen. Its trunk was pale, nearly white, and it seemed to hum softly, as if the wood itself was alive. The branches swept downward, nearly brushing the ground, each leaf glowing faintly with an inner light. Beneath it, a pool stretched in perfect stillness — so still it didn't reflect the forest, but something else entirely.
Aerin's heart pounded. The air here felt heavier, older, sacred.
She knelt near the edge of the pool and dipped her fingers into the water. It was warmer than she expected — soft, like silk, with a faint vibration running through it. When she drew her hand back, light clung to her fingertips for a moment before fading away.
A quiet voice — no louder than a sigh — drifted through the clearing.
"Aerin…"
Her name. Spoken with such intimacy that it made her chest tighten.
She spun around, searching the shadows, but no one stood there. Only the willow, swaying slightly despite the still air. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears.
"Who's there?" she whispered. "Show yourself!"
No answer came. Only the soft rustle of the leaves, like laughter muffled through time.
She turned back to the pool — and gasped.
Her reflection was gone.
In its place was another face: a woman with long, dark hair and eyes that shimmered gold like candlelight. She wore a gown of pale silk and a crown woven from the same willow leaves that hung above. Her expression was gentle, almost wistful, and yet her gaze pierced through Aerin as though she were looking at something deep inside her soul.
"Who are you?" Aerin breathed.
The reflection smiled faintly — and spoke without moving her lips."You are."
A pulse of energy rippled through the ground. Aerin stumbled back, clutching her pendant — the one she had found at the shrine days earlier. It glowed fiercely now, the same color as the willow's light.
Images flashed behind her eyes — a sea of stars, a ceremony beneath a full moon, a thousand candles floating on a river. She saw herself — or someone who looked like her — standing before a crowd, her voice trembling as she swore an oath she couldn't remember.
The words echoed in her skull:"When the last wish fades, so shall I."
Aerin gasped and fell to her knees. The images vanished as suddenly as they had come, leaving only the whisper of her heartbeat.
Then — footsteps.
She turned sharply, heart in her throat.
Lior stood at the edge of the clearing, the moonlight cutting across his sharp features. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes — his eyes held something between concern and sorrow.
"Aerin," he said softly, "you shouldn't be here."
Her voice trembled. "You followed me."
"I was protecting you."
She laughed once, shakily. "From what? A tree?"
Lior didn't answer. He stepped closer, his gaze flicking toward the willow. "That tree remembers everything. It holds the wishes of the lost — and the names of those who made them."
Aerin rose, brushing dirt from her knees. "Then tell me the truth. Why did it show me her face? Why did it call my name?"
He hesitated. "Because it knows you. It always has."
Her pulse quickened. "What does that mean?"
He took another step toward her, voice lowering. "You think this is your first time walking this path? That pendant, that tree — they've known your soul longer than you've known your name."
Aerin stared at him, her mind spinning. "Are you saying I've… been here before?"
Lior looked at her then, really looked, and for a moment the hardness in his features melted into something fragile, something almost human. "Not just been here," he whispered. "You belonged here."
The forest seemed to exhale around them — a soft breeze sweeping through the clearing, setting the willow's branches swaying like slow-moving waves. The light dimmed. The reflection in the pool flickered once more, and Aerin swore she heard the faintest voice — not the whisper of a stranger, but her own, calling across time.
She wanted to ask him more — what did he mean, belonged? — but before she could speak, Lior reached for her hand. His touch was cold, grounding.
"You need to leave this place before it remembers too much," he said quietly. "Or it won't let you go again."
The words sent a shiver down her spine.
As he guided her away, she looked back one last time. The willow stood still, motionless now, but she could feel it — its eyes, its memory, lingering in the hollow of her chest.
She didn't know why, but she whispered softly into the night:"I'll come back."
And somewhere, deep within the roots, the forest answered.