The night pressed heavy against the forest, its silence broken only by the faint rustle of leaves. Hoj held Mandle close, his heart still pounding from the fear of losing him. Yet even as relief washed over him, unease gnawed at his chest. The tremor beneath the earth had not ceased—it pulsed faintly, like the heartbeat of something vast and waiting. Mandle clung to his father's shirt, his mismatched eyes wide. "Papa," he whispered, voice trembling, "the forest spoke to me." Hoj froze. "What do you mean?"
"The beast," Mandle said softly, almost in awe. "It saw me. It said… I am the one." The words struck Hoj like a blade. He tightened his grip on the boy, scanning the shadows as if the creature might return. But the forest was still, too still, as though it listened. Far away, within the marble halls of the city, the High Council argued deep into the night. Their voices rose in anger, fear, and suspicion. Yet above their clamor, the City Lord's laughter lingered in memory, echoing like broken glass. One council member whispered to another, "He knows more than he tells us. The prophecy… it is unfolding."
But the City Lord, alone in his chamber, stared into the flickering candlelight and murmured: "The fools cling to half-truths. The prophecies they guard are not complete. What was written is only the beginning. The rest was hidden, lost… waiting for me to uncover." His smile widened, sharp and unhinged. "The child has met the beast. But the final words remain unwritten. And I will be the one to finish them."
Back in the forest, Hoj guided Mandle toward the bungalow, his steps quick and urgent. Yet the boy's gaze kept drifting back toward the trees, toward the place where glowing eyes had watched him. The butterfly returned, fluttering once above his head before vanishing into the night. Mandle's lips curved into a faint, troubled smile. "It will come again," he murmured.
Hoj shivered, though the air was warm. He looked at his son, at the innocence that now seemed touched by something greater, something dangerous. And in the distance, beyond the barrier, the beast stirred once more. Its growl rolled through the roots, low and patient. The game had begun, but the prophecy was not yet complete.