The deeper Mara went, the darker the forest became. The moon, barely peeking through the thick canopy, left the path ahead shadowed and uneven. Every step carried the risk of stumbling over roots or falling into hidden hollows, but she moved steadily, guided by the soft glow of the pendant. It pulsed like a heartbeat against her chest, urging her onward, whispering promises she could not yet understand.
The chanting grew louder, faint but insistent, threading through the trees like silver threads in the darkness. It was hypnotic, neither entirely human nor animal, yet strangely comforting. Mara felt drawn toward it, compelled as if the forest itself were pulling her into its secret center. Her hand tightened on the dagger at her waist, a silent acknowledgment that danger could be waiting behind every shadow.
Suddenly, the path opened into another clearing, wider than the first. Here, the air was thick with the scent of moss and something she couldn't name—ancient and metallic, like the memory of storms long past. At the center, a shallow pool reflected the pale light of the stars above. The pendant's glow intensified as Mara approached, casting her reflection onto the water's surface, but something was wrong. Her reflection moved differently, subtly, as if the water held another reality.
A voice broke the silence, smooth and low, echoing across the clearing. "You have come far, Mara."
She spun, dagger raised, but no one was there. The voice seemed to come from the pool itself. Mara's fingers brushed the surface, and a shiver ran through her as ripples distorted her reflection, forming shapes she could not immediately recognize—symbols, faces, fleeting shadows.
"I am not afraid," she said, though a tremor betrayed her calm. "Show me what I need to know."
The water shimmered, and an image rose from its depths: a figure cloaked in silver, standing beneath a sky of swirling stars. The figure raised a hand, revealing a pendant identical to Mara's. A chill ran down her spine. "This… this is me?" she whispered.
"You carry the oath, but you do not yet understand it," the voice said. "What binds you is more than promise—it is destiny. The oath will test you, shape you, and demand sacrifices. Are you willing to endure what lies ahead?"
Mara swallowed hard, the weight of her commitment pressing against her chest. "I swore it," she said finally. "I will endure."
The pool stilled, the reflection returning to normal, but the pendant's light now glowed with a steady, almost defiant warmth. Mara realized then that the forest was no longer merely a place—it was alive, testing her resolve, marking her as one chosen to face what others could not.
From the darkness at the edge of the clearing, a soft rustle drew her gaze. Eyes glimmered between the trees, silver and alert. Mara did not flinch. Whatever awaited her now, she would meet it on her own terms.
Beneath the silent stars, she stepped forward again, into the heart of the forest, where the oath would reveal its true cost.