Lila clutched the silver pendant, its symbols pulsing gently with a soft light that warmed her cold fingers. The river's flow whispered alongside her, moonlight making silver and black ripples.
A crackle in the brush made her spin around, ready to run again.
"Easy, little one," said a calm voice.
A tall figure stepped from the shadows, lantern light dancing on his cloak of dark green. His brown hair was tied back, his eyes clear and sharp, reflecting the lantern's glow. In his hand, he held a long wooden staff capped with a crystal that pulsed with the same soft light as the pendant.
"I'm Eron," he said, lowering the staff slightly in greeting. "You must be Lila."
Lila backed away warily, holding the pendant more closely. "How do you know my name?"
"The sprites told us," Eron said, kneeling down to her level, his voice low. "You're not the first to come through the hidden door, but you may be our last hope."
Lila's breath caught in her throat. "She tried to kill me. The witch."
Morgana,"Eron said, and the mere name made the air grow even chillier. "She rules this realm by fear, and she hungers for power that your world can offer her. But the pendant you're wearing—only one who possesses true courage can have it. The door chose you."
Lila looked down at the pendant, its light steady, calming her racing heart.
"Come," Eron said, extending his hand, "let me take you somewhere safe."
They walked in the moonlight, the trees thinning slowly until lanterns began to appear, hung from twisted branches, floating like fireflies in the dark, lighting a path through the night.
Ahead of them, a hidden valley stretched out beneath the cliffs, alive with gentle music and golden light. Homes built of woven leaves and whittled wood circled a large fire pit, around which the villagers sat talking, their voices hushed. Barefoot children ran, chasing the floating lanterns, their laughter ringing in small bells.
"This is Auraleaf," Eron said as they walked into the village. "We have been hiding for many seasons, guarding the final sparks of hope from Morgana's darkness."
They passed over a bridge spanning a narrow stream, its waters mirroring the lanterns overhead like a river of stars. The villagers looked up, their weary eyes widening with guarded hope as they caught sight of the pendant resting on Lila's chest.
A silver-haired woman with hair that looked like fine weaving and eyes as calm as stagnant lakes stepped forward. "You brought her here, Eron."
"She came to us, Elin," Eron replied softly. "The door has chosen."
Elin stretched out and placed her hand on Lila's cheek, and warmth flooded through her, chasing away the coldness of fear that had crept into her bones.
You are so young," Elin whispered, a sad smile on her face, "but perhaps it is only the young who still have the courage that we need.".
They brought Lila to the center of the village, where the fire crackled with soft blue and orange flames. Eron knelt beside her, drawing a circle around her on the earth with his staff, the same markings that were on the pendant and the door.
"These are the runes of protection," he explained. "Morgana's magic can't reach you inside them."
Lila leaned back, pendant in hand, as its rhythm merged with her heartbeat. The lanterns swayed gently overhead, and for the first time since she had crossed the hidden doorway, she felt secure.
In the evening, as she drifted off to sleep beneath a coverlet of leaves woven together, Lila heard the villagers softly singing around the fire, their voices threading hope into the dark forest.
You are not alone, the song seemed to be saying.
You are not alone.
And as Lila fell asleep, the pendant glowed gently on her breast, as if in assurance that she would find the strength she needed to fight the darkness.