The morning air smelled like wet earth and old ash. Even though the fire happened years ago, the forest still seemed to remember it. Liora stood at the edge of the trees, staring into the dark shadows beneath the branches. Her fingers touched the silver feather necklace around her neck. The cool metal helped calm her fast heartbeat.
She hadn't told Ysolde where she was going. Not because she wanted to lie, but because she didn't know how to explain it. How could she talk about the strange feeling inside her? Something deep and powerful was waking up inside her. It didn't feel angry. It felt like it knew her.
She stepped into the woods. The branches above whispered like voices from long ago. Each step she took felt like she was not going forward, but going back. The trees seemed to lean closer. Not to scare her, but like they were curious. As if the forest remembered her family.
Alwen walked here.
That thought struck her as she passed a narrow stone outcropping where the moss grew in thick patches. The air seemed to hold echoes of footsteps long gone. Liora imagined her aunt's feet brushing over these same stones, her presence still clinging to the trees like a scent, like a memory.
What did Alwen think about back then? Was she sad for what would be lost? Or did she dream of a better future?
Liora stopped beside a tree that had been burned by lightning. It looked dead, but little green shoots were growing from it. She touched the trunk, and a soft warmth came through the bark.
You still remember her, she whispered.
A gust of wind rushed through the leaves above. It wasn't rough, but it felt like it had a message. She closed her eyes and felt the sadness in the wind. Then she felt something new, like gentle fingers touching her mind.
Not all fire destroys.
The words echoed through her, not spoken aloud but imprinted in her mind like an old truth finally remembered. Fire can cleanse, renew, transform. It can devour but it can also give birth. She felt it now, not as a threat, but as a presence watching, waiting, offering something deeper than fear.
Her eyes flew open. Her heart pounded. She turned quickly, but no one was there. Still, she felt it. Something old and near, reaching out to her.
She walked deeper into the woods.
Suddenly, a clearing opened in front of her. It looked like it had been waiting for her. It was the same place she had seen the Seer before. But something was different today. Burnt markings circled the trees. Symbols she didn't know, but somehow understood. Protection. Sacrifice. Memory.
She stepped into the circle and knelt. Her hands pressed against the soft moss.
It felt cool beneath her skin, pulsing faintly like a slow heartbeat. The earth welcomed her touch, as if recognizing the blood that ran through her veins. She closed her eyes, steadying her breath, and leaned closer, listening for a whisper, a sign, anything that would help her understand.
I'm here, she said. Tell me what I need to know.
The wind stopped.
Then the tree in front of her creaked. Not from age. It was moving. A line split slowly down its center, and a soft light shone from within. It pulsed like a heartbeat.
Liora held her breath.
A shape formed inside. Not a full body, but a ghost-like figure made of smoke and ash. It flickered like fire just out of reach. It didn't speak, but she heard it in her mind.
She saw a village burning.
It wasn't Elderwood as it looked now. It was smaller. Simpler. The houses had old symbols on the walls. People screamed. Flames reached toward the sky.
In the center stood a woman.
Alwen.
Her face looked calm. Peaceful. She stood between the fire and the people. Her arms were raised, not to stop the fire, but to guide it. The flames didn't burn her. They listened to her.
Liora gasped.
The vision faded.
She sat back, her eyes wide.
You didn't burn, she whispered. You controlled the fire.
The wind blew again. This time, it brought clear words.
Fire is not the enemy. Fear is.
Liora turned. Her hands shook. Why did they turn on her, then? If they saw what she could do, why were they afraid?
The trees didn't answer.
A loud crack echoed through the forest.
She jumped to her feet. She looked around. A branch had broken. Not from the wind. From someone's weight.
She wasn't alone.
Back in Elderwood, Ysolde stood near the hearth. Her hands were deep in a bowl of herbs. She ground them slowly, lost in thought.
She could feel it. Something had changed. Liora's presence in the forest felt heavier. Something dark had touched it.
Alwen, she whispered. Why now?
She turned and took a thick, leather book from the shelf. It was very old. Older than any book the Council had. It held secrets passed down in whispers. She opened to a page near the back. The ink had faded, but the symbol was clear. A crescent moon crossed by a flame.
The Hollow Moon.
Ysolde's fingers hovered above the page.
She's not ready, she whispered.
But it wasn't about being ready anymore. The signs had started. The wind had returned. Liora was being called.
Liora moved quickly now. She could feel someone nearby. They were not hiding anymore. She felt them moving behind the trees.
Come out, she said. I know you're there.
A low laugh came from behind a birch tree.
Tomas stepped out, hands raised.
Easy, he said. It's just me.
Liora let out a shaky breath. What are you doing here?
I followed you. I hear the forest too.
Liora looked at him closely. His clothes were muddy. His eyes looked tired, but honest.
I saw her, she said. Alwen. Or a part of her. The fire didn't kill her. She was the fire.
Tomas stepped closer. That's what Ysolde feared. That the truth would be too heavy for the village.
Liora looked at him. You knew?
I didn't believe it. Until now.
They stood together in the clearing. The air around them still felt full of energy. Tomas bent near the tree markings.
These weren't here before, he said. Someone has been here. Recently.
Liora knelt and touched one of the symbols. They're warnings. Or messages.
Tomas looked at her. Then we have to remind the others. The Council can't hide this.
Liora's face grew firm. No. But we must be careful. If they feel scared, they will act.
Like they did with her.
Liora nodded. Exactly. They feared her power because they couldn't control it. They'll fear mine too, once they know what's inside me. Her voice shook with strength. But I won't run. If they buried the truth before, I'll make sure they never do it again.
Thunder cracked far away. But the sky above was clear.
She looked up. We need to go.
That night, Liora sat in the attic again. The candle flame danced like it was afraid. She opened the old journal in her lap. Alwen's words, saved by Ysolde after the fire. The ink was faint, but still readable.
One note caught her eye:
The moon is hollow tonight. I feel it pulling at the roots. Something stirs beneath the soil, older than memory. If I fail, let her remember. Let her burn clean. Not for vengeance, but for truth.
Liora pressed her hand to the page. Her throat tightened.
She was the girl Alwen wrote about. The one meant to carry the truth.
But it felt like too much.
I don't know if I'm strong enough, she whispered.
The candle flared.
Downstairs, someone knocked on the door.
Ysolde's voice called up. Liora. We have company.
At the door stood a woman. She was tall and thin, with hair like soot and eyes like wet stone. She wore no coat, even in the cold. Her boots were covered in ash.
Ysolde's face showed nothing. This is Virel. She came from the eastern boundary.
Liora frowned. That boundary is sealed. No one gets through.
Virel smiled, but her eyes stayed cold. Not unless they're called.
Liora felt a chill.
Virel stepped forward. The Hollow Moon is coming. Some want to stop its light before it rises.
Ysolde stepped between them. Why now?
Because it has started, Virel said. Something beneath Elderwood is waking. And the girl is not the only one it remembers.
Liora stared. What do you mean?
Virel looked at her. You are not the only blood that still burns.
The candle shook.
Liora's heart raced.
Before she could speak, the ground trembled. Just once. But enough to shake the teacups.
Outside, a long howl came from the forest. Not wind. Something deeper.
Liora looked at Ysolde. Her eyes were full of fear.
Virel smiled.
Come with me, she said. There is something buried beneath Elderwood and tonight, it remembers.