After the shadowy figure of the boy faded slowly, Nuna and Seraphim ventured deeper into the forest surrounding the valley. The ground was blanketed in golden leaves, and sunlight filtered through the tall trees, creating tiny dancing sparks as if the forest itself were breathing.
"Everything here… feels like it's not really dead," Nuna whispered, stopping before an ancient rock engraved with symbols resembling a traditional Khon mask.
Seraphim leaned closer to inspect the carvings. "This is the origin of the curse… we need to understand it clearly," he said softly.
The Feathered Mask in Nuna's hand glimmered with a soft silver light, making the carvings appear almost alive. The shadows of the symbols seemed to breathe. A cold wind stirred, and the rustling leaves created a faint, almost musical hum.
"Listen…" Seraphim murmured, gently touching the surface of the stone.
Suddenly, a whisper came through, clearer than before. It was the voice of the same boy from the shadow.
"Seek the truth… hidden beneath the great tree roots…"
Nuna flinched but felt a strange pull in her chest. She moved toward the massive tree roots and discovered a small hollow, filled with scraps of old paper. Golden dust floated in the air with the breeze.
As she opened it, she found an old journal, written in small, childlike handwriting—resembling the boy from the shadow.
"Who… is this?" Nuna murmured, her voice trembling.
Seraphim reached for her hand, holding it firmly. "The forgotten past… it waits for us to understand it… and to set it right."
They began reading together. The first pages were filled with tiny sketches and old text, telling a story of pain and sorrow that had been hidden for generations. Slowly, the shadow of the curse began to materialize around them, showing fragments of memories and anguish.
Nuna took a deep breath. The heavy weight on her chest began to ease. "We have to release them… and ourselves too."
Seraphim smiled faintly, gently touching her face. "I'll be here… with you, every step… through every hardship."
It felt as if even the sky and the forest recognized their resolve. A silver dust drifted with the wind, spreading around them like the remnants of ancient spirits, as if the world itself was bearing witness.
Nuna inhaled slowly, letting the tension coiled tightly in her chest unwind with each breath. The forest around them seemed to pause in silent reverence, the rustling of leaves softening to a gentle murmur, as if nature itself were holding its breath. Silver motes of dust, delicate and ethereal, swirled through the beams of fading sunlight, dancing around them in patterns too deliberate to be accidental—like tiny fragments of ancient spirits acknowledging their determination.
She felt Seraphim's hand brush against her cheek, warm and grounding. His eyes, dark and unwavering, held her gaze with a depth that made her own heartbeat seem louder.
"We have to release them… and ourselves too," she whispered, more to herself than to him, yet his presence made the words carry weight.
Seraphim's thumb traced her jawline in a slow, comforting rhythm. "I'll be here… with you, every step… through every hardship," he said, his voice a low promise that resonated in the quiet air.
For a moment, Nuna let herself be pulled into the steady gravity of him, letting her fears, regrets, and the lingering shadows of the past dissolve in that shared silence. Around them, the silver dust thickened, coalescing into faint, shimmering forms—faces, hands, memories—reminders of lives once tethered, now ready to move on.
A sudden gust of wind swept through, rustling the trees in a whispering chorus, carrying with it the faint scent of rain and earth. Nuna shivered—not from cold, but from the enormity of what they were about to do.
"We'll need more than courage," she murmured, glancing toward the path ahead where the forest darkened, the shadows stretching like tendrils. "We'll need… faith. Faith in ourselves, and in what's meant to come."
Seraphim tightened his hold around her hand, a silent vow anchoring them both. "Then we'll hold it together. No matter what lies beyond the shadows."
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Nuna felt a flicker of hope ignite within her chest—a fragile, trembling light, yet bright enough to cut through the lingering darkness.