Chapter no 26
The Whispering Woods
The forest slept beneath a blood-red moon.Yet even in its silence, it breathed — every leaf exhaled sorrow, every root whispered secrets buried beneath centuries of pain.
Lyra Voss stood at the edge of those woods, her cloak brushing against the silver grass that shimmered like frost. The air was cold, but her chest burned with the fire of her purpose. For nights she had followed the echoes — fragments of a song only she could hear.Eira's song.
The world had been cruel since that night — the night when destiny split them apart. Lyra had crossed mountains, rivers, and ruins, chasing that faint melody that called her name through dreams and shadows alike. Now it led her here, to the forbidden Whispering Woods, a place said to devour the minds of those who entered uninvited.
But Lyra had already lost her mind — or what was left of it — the moment she lost her.
The wind hissed between the trees, carrying voices that weren't quite human. She could almost make out words:"Daughter of Moonfire… the bond… the blood…"
Her hand instinctively brushed the scar across her heart — the mark that still glowed faintly blue whenever she thought of Eira Vale. The mark of their forbidden bond.
She took a step forward. The air changed.
The ground pulsed beneath her boots like something alive, and a faint mist crawled around her legs. The trees loomed higher, their trunks slick with shadow, their roots like claws. Every few steps, she heard her own heartbeat echo back at her — but slower, deeper, as if another heart beat alongside hers from somewhere in the darkness.
She stopped at a fork — two paths, each choked by fog so dense she couldn't see beyond a few feet. She knelt, placing her hand against the soil. A faint pulse responded — a rhythm that matched her own heartbeat. Then, from the left, came the faint hum of that same melody — Eira's voice, fragile and sorrowful, carried through the mist.
"Then left it is," Lyra whispered.
She walked toward the sound, and with each step, the air grew heavier. The whispers turned to murmurs, the murmurs to words, until finally the forest itself spoke — thousands of unseen voices breathing her name.
When the fog cleared, she found herself standing in a clearing lit by an unnatural glow.At its center stood a ring of ancient stones, black and cracked, glowing with crimson sigils that pulsed like heartbeats. The smell of rain and ashes hung thick in the air.
And in the middle of it all — stood her.
Not Eira.But a woman of impossible beauty.
Her skin was pale as moonlight, her hair darker than midnight, and her eyes gleamed gold, bright enough to pierce through the fog. The moment she looked at Lyra, the whispers stopped.
"You've come, child of the moonfire," the woman said. Her voice rippled through the air like the low hum of an ancient bell. "The one whose love defied death."
Lyra's hand moved to her sword. "Who are you?"
The woman smiled faintly. "Names mean little in the realm of echoes. But if you must call me something… I am the Keeper of Shadows."
The Keeper stepped forward, her bare feet making no sound. She circled Lyra slowly, eyes tracing her armor, her sword, the glow beneath her collarbone. "You seek what cannot return."
Lyra's throat tightened. "I seek Eira Vale."
The Keeper tilted her head. "The girl of light. The heart you lost in the dark." She stopped behind Lyra, whispering near her ear. "Do you truly wish to bring her back?"
"I'll do anything."
The Keeper's golden eyes gleamed. "Would you give everything?"
"Everything," Lyra repeated, her voice steady despite the tremor in her chest.
"Then listen closely," the Keeper said, lifting her hand and placing it gently over Lyra's heart. The contact sent a cold shiver through her — as if her soul itself were being touched. "There is only one way to restore the bond between worlds. Life must be paid with something of equal worth."
"My soul?" Lyra asked.
The Keeper smiled — not kindly. "No. Souls are easy to take. But memories…" she traced her finger over Lyra's heart, where the faint glow pulsed faster, "memories are eternal. To bring her back, you must give up your memory of her."
Lyra froze. The world seemed to blur around her.
"You will forget her face," the Keeper continued softly. "Her voice, her smile, the warmth of her hands. You will forget the love that shaped you, the pain that defined you. She will live again — but to you, she will be a stranger."
The silence that followed was heavier than death itself.
Lyra's breath caught in her throat. Images flashed behind her eyes — Eira laughing under the moonlight, Eira's hand brushing hers when no one was watching, Eira whispering, 'No matter what happens, don't forget me.'
Her vision blurred with tears. "If I do this… will she be safe?"
"She will live," the Keeper said. "Safe or not, the world will decide."
Lyra closed her eyes. Her body trembled. "And she'll never remember me either?"
"She might," the Keeper whispered, smiling faintly. "But you won't know."
For a long moment, Lyra said nothing. Only the sound of the wind, and her quiet heartbeat remained.Then she opened her eyes — and there was fire in them.
"If the price of her life is my memory," she said, her voice breaking, "then I'll pay it."
The Keeper's smile turned almost gentle. "How beautiful… how foolish."
She raised her hand, and the sigils on the stones blazed crimson. The forest shook as the ground split open, light spilling through the cracks. The air filled with the scent of burning roses. Lyra gasped as pain pierced her chest — sharp, endless, like her very heart was being torn apart.
The Keeper's voice echoed, deep and distant. "Sleep, moonfire child. When you wake, the girl will breathe again… and you will know her no more."
Lyra screamed as the world turned white — and then, everything went still.
When the light faded, only silence remained. The clearing was empty. The wind carried no song. The moon, once red, now shone silver again.
And far away, in a quiet human village, a girl with blue eyes awoke from a long dream — gasping for air, her heart pounding, whispering a name she didn't understand:
"Lyra…"