The forest grew quieter the further they walked, as if the trees themselves were listening. The moonlight followed them through the branches, casting shifting patterns of silver across the path. Aerin walked beside Lior, her heart still racing from what she had seen — the woman in the water, the whispers that spoke her name.
Every step felt unreal. The cool air bit at her skin, but inside she burned with questions she couldn't contain any longer.
"Lior," she began softly, "when you said I belonged here… what did you mean?"
He didn't look at her. "It's not something you're ready to hear."
"Then when will I be ready?" she pressed. "When the forest decides it? When that tree starts whispering again?"
He stopped walking. For a long moment, he just stared ahead, his jaw tight, as though fighting with something invisible. Finally, he turned to her — his eyes a storm of emotion.
"Aerin, do you remember the night you found the pendant?"
She blinked. "Of course. It was buried near the old shrine. Why?"
"Because that wasn't the first time you held it." His voice dropped lower, almost trembling. "You gave it away once. Long ago."
The words struck her like thunder. "That's impossible."
"Is it?" he asked quietly. "The forest remembers what people forget. It keeps pieces of their wishes, their promises… even their mistakes."
She shook her head, her mind spinning. "Then why don't I remember?"
"Because you asked to forget," he said, his tone breaking slightly. "You wanted peace. You didn't want to remember who you were — or what you'd lost."
The world tilted around her. The sound of wind rushing through the trees seemed distant, muffled, as though she were underwater. "You're lying," she whispered.
He didn't answer. He didn't have to. The silence said everything.
They walked again, slower now. The forest opened to a small ridge, and from there, the world stretched below — the valley bathed in moonlight, a river gleaming like a silver thread, and beyond it, the faint outline of ruins swallowed by mist.
Aerin stopped, breath caught in her throat. "What is that?"
Lior's eyes followed her gaze. "The city of Elyndra," he said softly. "What's left of it."
The name stirred something deep in her chest, something that hurt and warmed at the same time.
"I've heard that name before," she said. "In a dream."
He nodded slowly. "It wasn't a dream."
She turned toward him, the pieces beginning to fall together in terrifying shapes. "You know the truth, don't you? About me."
Lior hesitated, then exhaled. "I swore I would never tell you. But the forest has already begun to awaken your memories. It won't stop now."
He stepped closer, until she could see the flicker of moonlight reflected in his eyes. "Aerin… you were once the guardian of this forest. The one who bound its wishes, who carried the prayers of the lost to the stars. When the people of Elyndra began to turn their wishes into greed, the forest began to die. You tried to stop it — and in doing so, you were cursed."
Aerin's lips parted, but no sound came out.
"You gave your memories to the willow," he continued, his voice softer now. "You sealed your past away, believing it was the only way to protect what was left of this world. But your soul… it always finds its way back."
She took a shaky step back. "No… I'm just a girl. I'm not her. I can't be."
"You are," he said, and there was no doubt in his tone. "The pendant chose you because it remembers you. And now, so does the forest."
The night air seemed to close around them, heavy and trembling. Aerin felt the pendant against her chest pulse once, twice — like a second heartbeat. She didn't want to believe him, but deep inside, something ancient stirred — recognition, grief, longing.
She whispered, "Then who were you?"
Lior's expression shifted, pain flashing across his face. "I was your vow."
She frowned. "My what?"
"Before you gave up your memories, you asked for someone to watch over this place until you returned. The forest chose me. Or perhaps you did."
He looked away then, his voice barely audible. "I was meant to protect you, Aerin. Not fall in love with you again."
The world froze.
Again.
The word hit her like a dagger.
She wanted to speak, to ask, to breathe, but the weight of it all pressed against her chest. Lior turned from her, his expression composed again, though she saw the flicker of something breaking behind his eyes.
The silence stretched. Only the sound of the river below filled the air, like distant whispers of time.
After what felt like forever, Aerin spoke, her voice trembling. "If what you're saying is true… then everything I've known is a lie."
"Not a lie," Lior said softly. "Just a wish that was granted."
The stars began to fade behind thin clouds. A soft wind moved through the forest, and the pendant against her skin glowed faintly once more — as if agreeing with his words.
For a long while, neither of them moved. Then Aerin turned toward him, eyes glistening. "Then promise me one thing, Lior."
He met her gaze warily. "What is it?"
"When the forest remembers everything…" she whispered, "don't let me forget you."
His breath caught — and for the first time, he smiled. It wasn't the sad, guarded expression he usually wore, but something real, fragile, beautiful. "Even if the stars themselves fade," he said quietly, "I won't."
The clouds parted, and for a heartbeat, the world was silver and still. Aerin looked up at the sky — the same stars that had witnessed her forgotten promise — and for the first time, she didn't feel lost. She felt… home.