Chapter 1: The Forest That Listens
The forest did not merely exist—it observed.
In the hush between rustling leaves and the low murmur of wind threading through ancient branches, there lingered a quiet awareness. Elara had felt it since childhood, though she could never quite name it. Each evening, just before twilight dissolved the sharpness of day, she wandered beneath its canopy, drawn by something deeper than habit.
It was there she found refuge—from the expectations of her village, from the life that never seemed to fit her… and from the dreams.
Dreams of golden eyes.
The night she first saw him, she did not startle. Fear did not claim her. Instead, she stood still, as though some hidden part of her had long anticipated his presence.
"You shouldn't be here alone," he said, emerging from shadow into dim silver light.
His voice was calm, yet carried an unmistakable weight—like a warning shaped by experience.
Elara met his gaze without hesitation. "That's curious," she replied. "I was about to say the same to you."
For a fleeting moment, something softened in his expression—surprise, perhaps, or reluctant amusement. Then it vanished.
And so did he.