THE BLACK FOREST
The trees loomed above, their towering branches like skeletal fingers clawing at the sky. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and rotting leaves, and the silence was thick, broken only by the occasional snap of a twig or the distant hoot of an owl.
As the sun cast its waning light into the shadows, a small party emerged from the mist‑shrouded undergrowth: two young women, a pale‑skinned youth, a Western man in his middle years, and an old Asian man in a weathered tang suit. They moved carefully, eyes sweeping the forest floor and the canopy alike, wary of what might stir.
Deeper they ventured, until the looming silhouette of an ancient temple rose ahead. The great doors stood half‑ajar, carved with faded symbols that whispered of things long forgotten. The party exchanged uneasy glances as they drew near.
'Is this the place?' the younger woman asked, her voice betraying a trace of unease.
'According to the map, this is the temple,' the pale‑skinned boy answered quietly.
The old man brushed at the sleeve of his robe, white brows furrowing. 'Within lies the key to the Dreamscape.'
'Let us head in. We have no time to waste,' the middle‑aged man urged.
The other woman stretched her arms, a fearless smile curling her lips. 'I wonder what secrets the temple holds.'
With a sudden groan, the temple gates swung wide, as though beckoning them. Claire, the fearless one, laughed aloud and strode towards the entrance. Her boldness seemed to steady the others. They drew weapons, raised their guard, and followed her in. Relief flickered across their faces when the heavy doors did not slam shut behind them.
'Nova,' Wilson, the middle‑aged man, called softly.
The youth inclined his head, lifting one pale hand. Light gathered at his fingertips and formed into a hovering orb, its glow spilling over the shadowed stone. By its radiance, they pressed on, footsteps echoing in the long corridor until they reached a vast inner chamber.
At once, their eyes fixed on the altar at its centre. A young girl lay motionless upon it, draped in grey robes. Her slender form seemed almost fragile against the ancient stone. Around them, the temple loomed—carvings worn by centuries, columns fissured and stained by time.
As they drew closer, they saw her hands were closed tightly over some hidden thing. Surprise rippled through the group.
'Old Man Feng,' Wilson said, low and wary, 'is this girl the holder of the Fragment of Time?'
The elder's gaze stayed on her still face. 'As you see, the fragment lies in her hands.'
'There are no records of the holder of the Fragment of Time,' Caitriona murmured, frowning.
While the others whispered, Nova studied the girl. He noticed the faint flutter of her dark lashes. His hand shifted, resting on the hilt of the odachi strapped across his back, as he lowered his head.
The sleeping girl was waking.
…
Lamani was falling.
She knew she was asleep, yet she felt herself drop through endless darkness.
Am I dying?
The thought was barely formed when she felt herself again—solid beneath her, stone cold against her back. Voices floated through the haze.
'What should we do now? There's a barrier in place,' a man said.
'Wake her,' came an older voice.
She shifted, fingers brushing the thing clutched in her hand. A pocket watch? She didn't know. She only knew she was not in her room. These people, these voices—she did not know them.
A strange place. Strange faces.
Her fingers tightened around the object, its shape pressing into her palm. As her eyelids trembled, a sound slipped into her awareness—the steady, rhythmic tick of a clock. Her eyes opened slowly, dark and still as midnight pools, taking in the vaulted ceiling above.
She sat up, her feet brushing the cold tiles.
'The girl is awake,' someone whispered.
Her fingers curled around the pocket watch. It was an old brass casing burnished to a soft golden glow, delicate carvings dancing across its surface. She stared for a moment, then lowered her hand and looked at the strangers gathered around her.
Wilson stepped closer, stopping a few feet away. His tone was gentle, almost cautious.
'Hello. Can you hear me?'
Lamani nodded once, scanning the room, the carvings, the crumbling pillars. Her gaze swept over the party, then returned to Wilson and the elder.
'What do you want with me?'
Old Man Feng chuckled, a dry, amused sound. 'What a straightforward lass.'
'We need you—and the fragment you hold,' Wilson said.
'Why?'
'Come with us, and you will have your answers.'
Though everything about them set her instincts on edge, Lamani only nodded. Wilson's brows lifted at how easily she agreed, but Feng simply chuckled again, eyes glinting as they met hers.
'What is your name, lass?'
'Lamani.'
'Lamani, you will have to come down on your own. We cannot pass further than this.'
She followed his gaze to the shimmering veil of light that marked the edge of their advance. A barrier. She frowned faintly. She had never believed in such things…, but perhaps there was more to the world than she had thought.
Questions rose, but she lacked the will to ask them. The answers will come, eventually.
She stretched out her hand. Her fingers slipped through the barrier as though it were nothing. She stepped forward and emerged beside them, tucking the pocket watch into her robes.
The ground trembled beneath them. Dust trickled from the ceiling.
'The last trace of power holding the temple is gone,' Caitriona said sharply.
The stones shuddered. Cracks raced along the walls.
'We need to move—now!' Wilson barked.
Old Man Feng was suddenly at Lamani's side, his palm settling on her shoulder. Power surged through her like a living current, lightening her limbs.
'Run, lass!'
The party moved, feet a blur, speed no human should possess. Lamani, startled, found herself keeping pace, breath quick but steady. It must be what he gave me, she thought as the roar of collapsing stone filled the air.
'Keep moving! We are almost clear!' Wilson shouted, his voice raw.
Caitriona raised her arms, a shimmer of power flaring as a translucent shield formed overhead. Stone and splinters rained down, striking the barrier with dull thuds. Behind them, a great slab crashed to the floor, sending shards flying. Caitriona's jaw tightened as she held the shield firm.
The ground heaved. The walls groaned. And then—sunlight.
They burst through the gates as the temple roared behind them, a thunderous collapse that sent birds shrieking from the trees. Dust rolled skyward, grey against the canopy.
Lamani sank to her knees on the damp earth, lungs heaving. Her mind reeled.
'Is everyone all right?' Wilson asked, eyes scanning his companions.
One by one, they nodded. Lamani turned her head, watching the blackened ruin disappear in a haze of falling debris.
'Let us return to the old facility,' Wilson said quietly. From his belt, he drew a small, carved device. With a twist, it came alive—humming low, shedding a pale, iridescent light.
The glow spread, rippling through the air, distorting it like water struck by a stone. The ripple deepened into a shimmering portal, blue light pulsing softly at its heart. Through its surface, Lamani glimpsed another place—a cold, silent building that must be the facility.
Wilson stepped forward without hesitation, vanishing into the light. The others followed, one by one.
Lamani ran her fingers through her curls, exhaling slowly. Her dark eyes were calm again as her hand dropped to her side. Then, without a word, she stepped through.
Behind her, the portal folded in on itself, leaving only the forest—the wind in the leaves, the damp earth, and the fading echoes of a world just left behind.