By dawn, the storm was gone, and the village was quiet. Aria had barely slept. Every time her eyes closed, she saw the fire licking at the edges of her memory, her brother's sneer, the flare of steel between them. Her hands still trembled when she thought of how easily he had twisted the truth against her.
By the time she stumbled out into the morning chill, the air smelled of smoke and damp earth. Villagers avoided her gaze. They had heard the words her brother spoke, and though some looked at her with pity, more looked away with fear. Fear was worse it spread quicker than flames.
The forest waited at the edge of the fields. Its branches sagged with rain, black with the weight of secrets. And somewhere in its depths, the answers clawed at her half whispered in her blood since childhood, waiting to surface.
She needed to know what tied her to that night. Why her brother's face flickered in every half-remembered dream. Why shadows seemed to curl toward her as if drawn to her heartbeat.
And above all, why her mother's last words ,words no one else had heard had warned her never to step too close to the ancient oak that marked the forest's heart.
She tightened her cloak. The choice was already made.
The roots twisted around the oak like the coils of a serpent. At its base, a hollow yawned, black as a wound. Aria pressed her palm against the bark. It throbbed faintly, like something alive.
"Blood calls to blood," a voice rasped from inside.
Aria froze.
It wasn't her brother's voice. It wasn't anyone she knew. The words came from the hollow itself, whispering as though the tree breathed. She should have run, but her feet carried her forward.
A cut on her palm small, from yesterday's scuffle dripped onto the roots. The tree drank it in greedily.
The world shifted.
The forest spun, the air tightening until she couldn't breathe. When her vision cleared, she was no longer standing before a tree but in a place of impossible stillness.
The roots had become walls, arching above like cathedral ribs. At the center, a pool of dark water reflected her face but it wasn't just her face. It was her, crowned in light and shadow both, her eyes burning with something not human.
The reflection spoke.
"You are heir to a war you don't yet understand."
The pool rippled. Figures flickered: armies clashing in fire, her brother at the front, wielding power drawn from shadows that bent at his command. Behind him, cities crumbled, flames climbing higher than the stars.
"No…" Aria staggered back. "No, that can't be me."
But the reflection smiled, cruel and knowing.
"It already is."
Her scream tore her back to the waking world. She was kneeling at the oak's base, rain soaking her hair. But she wasn't alone.
A figure stood between her and the path home cloaked, hood shadowing their face. Yet she recognized the stance instantly.
Her brother.
His smile was slow, deliberate, as if he'd been waiting for this moment.
"I told you, Aria," he said softly, almost lovingly. "It's in your blood. And now… it's mine to take."