Okay. So. Quick recap:
1. I'm marked by some ancient sigil that apparently means I'm doomed to face a "Trial."
2. There's a cult involved. A creepy cult.
3. Star, my adorable yet slightly unhinged rabbit, apparently knows more about this situation than I do.
4. Rowan is concussed but insists it's just a "mild head injury." (Narrator: It was not mild.)
And now? We were heading into the Darkwood.
Because nothing screams "good decision-making" like walking into a cursed forest in search of a mystical seer who may or may not exist.
"Just to clarify," Rowan said as we approached the treeline, "we're walking into the haunted murder-forest because the rabbit wants us to?"
I sighed. "Yes."
"And you don't see any problem with that?"
I gestured at my hand, where the sigil was still faintly glowing like a bad tattoo. "My standards for 'problematic decision-making' have changed, Rowan."
Rowan rubbed the back of his head. "Fair point."
Star, meanwhile, had already hopped ahead into the woods. Because of course he had.
I took a deep breath and followed. "Let's just get this over with."
Oh, So This Place is Definitely Haunted
The Darkwood was wrong in a way that's hard to describe.
The trees were tall—too tall—stretching upward like skeletal fingers. The ground was soft, covered in moss and leaves that didn't crunch underfoot but instead… sank a little when you stepped on them.
And the sounds? None.
No birds. No insects. Just the whisper of the wind through the branches.
"Okay," Rowan said after about five minutes of walking, "this place is giving me some pretty aggressive 'we're going to die here' vibes."
"Yeah, it's not exactly high on my list of vacation spots either," I muttered.
Star stopped suddenly.
I nearly tripped over him. "Hey, buddy, a little warning next time—"
Star's ears twitched. His nose wiggled.
And then I heard it.
A low creaking sound.
From above.
Slowly, I looked up.
And saw eyes.
Not normal eyes. Glowing yellow, peering down at us from the branches.
Rowan grabbed my arm. "Uh… Chris?"
"Yeah?"
"Is it just me, or are the trees… moving?"
It wasn't just him.
The branches above us were shifting. Leaves rustling even though there was no wind. And the eyes—more of them—were opening.
"Okay," I said, backing up. "Time to go."
We turned—
—and found ourselves face-to-face with someone.
Tall. Cloaked. Hooded. Of course.
"Oh, come on," I said.
"You are late."
The figure's voice was deep and low, like it was echoing from far away.
I tightened my grip on my sword. "Sorry. Traffic was terrible."
"You are not prepared for the Trial."
"Yeah, well, I wasn't prepared for my rabbit to develop an interest in the occult either, but here we are."
The figure tilted their head slightly. "Follow me."
"And why would I do that?"
"You seek the Seer."
Rowan muttered, "Chris, I'm starting to get the feeling that this whole Seer thing might be a trap."
"Yeah, I'm also getting that feeling."
"And yet," the figure said, "you will follow."
Because of course we did.
Suspiciously Creepy Cottage in the Middle of the Forest? Don't Mind If I Do
The figure led us deeper into the Darkwood, past more watching eyes in the trees and suspiciously human-shaped shadows flickering between the trunks.
And then, through a break in the trees, we saw it:
A small cottage.
Okay, "cottage" might be generous. It looked more like the twisted, slightly off-kilter home of a witch with questionable life choices. The walls were covered in moss and vines, the windows were dark, and the roof sagged in a way that suggested some serious structural code violations.
"This is the Seer's place?" Rowan asked.
"Apparently."
"Great. Love that. Seems legit."
The hooded figure stopped at the door. "Enter."
I glanced at Rowan. "After you?"
"Oh no, absolutely not. I'm just here for moral support."
"Wow. So brave."
"Yeah, that's me."
With a sigh, I pushed the door open.
Inside, the cottage was… weird.
The walls were lined with shelves stacked with bottles, scrolls, and jars filled with substances that I really didn't want to identify. A fire crackled in the corner fireplace, casting flickering shadows.
And in the center of the room sat an old woman.
Long silver hair. Eyes sharp and bright beneath heavy brows. Dressed in dark robes that somehow made her seem like she was part of the shadows around her.
"Ah," she said. "You've arrived."
"Yeah, hi." I gave her a weak wave. "So, uh… Seer?"
She smiled faintly. "I see much."
"Cool. Cool. So… do you see why I'm being hunted by cultists and branded with ancient symbols?"
Her gaze sharpened. "Show me your hand."
I hesitated, then held it out. The sigil pulsed faintly beneath my skin.
The Seer took my hand gently. Traced the sigil with one bony finger.
Her expression darkened.
"The Forgotten One has marked you."
"Right. And, uh… that's bad?"
"The Trial is coming."
"Yeah, people keep saying that, but could you maybe define 'Trial' in clearer terms?"
The Seer's eyes narrowed. "It will test you. Your strength. Your will. Your mind."
"And if I fail?"
"You won't."
"Great, love the vote of confidence."
"But," she added, "you may not survive."
"Less reassuring!"
The Seer's gaze shifted to Star, who had hopped onto a chair and was currently gnawing on the corner of a scroll.
"He will guide you," she said.
"Okay, yeah, but… he's a rabbit."
Star's nose twitched.
The Seer smiled faintly. "Is he?"
Rowan leaned toward me. "I swear to gods, Chris, if Star turns out to be some kind of ancient god, I'm quitting this entire situation."
"Same," I said.
The Seer stood. "You must prepare. The cult will not stop. They will test you."
"Neat. Love that for me."
"And when the Trial comes… you must face it alone."
"Wait, alone?"
"Yes."
"Great. Perfect. Just what I wanted to hear."
"Rest now," the Seer said. "Tomorrow, your path will begin."
I sighed. "Yeah. Sure. Can't wait."
As I settled onto a suspiciously uncomfortable cot, Star hopped onto my chest and stared at me with his unblinking black eyes.
"I swear to gods," I whispered, "if you've known about this the whole time and didn't tell me—"
Star licked his paw.
Of course he did.
Next stop: Trial. Death. And probably more cryptic rabbit nonsense.
Stay tuned.