Mara followed no trail.
The deeper she went, the more the trees grew close together. Light filtered in slivers. She ducked under low branches, stepped over roots like bones curled into the earth. She didn't pause to wonder where she was going. Only that she wasn't turning back.
The warmth in the charm had faded. The stone in her satchel stayed still. No more voices. No more riddles. Just her.
She walked until the shadows thinned.
A stream cut through the trees ahead, its water so clear she could see the pebbles at the bottom. She crouched and dipped her fingers in. Cold, but not sharp. It grounded her. For a moment, she closed her eyes.
No wind. No distant calls. Just water and breath.
Her voice broke the quiet. "Is this where you want me to go?"
Nothing replied.
Still, she followed the stream. It curved like a guiding line. On one side of the bank, symbols marked the trees again. This time, different ones. Less carved, more drawn — with ash, maybe, or something darker. Some were smudged by rain or time. Others looked fresh.
She didn't speak this time.
She didn't want to say anything that might make them vanish.
The woods grew quieter the longer she walked. Not in a dead way. More like something was waiting.
Eventually, she came to another clearing. Not burned. Not ruined. Just quiet. A patch of land where the trees had simply stepped back.
At its center was a single object.
A mirror.
Tall, framed in twisted black wood. It leaned against nothing. Just stood there, upright in the grass, untouched by moss or rot. The glass surface rippled like water for a second when she looked at it, then stilled.
Mara didn't step forward.
She tilted her head instead.
Her reflection stared back.
But it wasn't right.
The girl in the mirror wore the same clothes. Held the same satchel. But her eyes were wrong. Not wide. Not confused. Focused.
Mara spoke carefully. "Who are you supposed to be?"
The reflection smiled. Not wide. Just enough.
It raised a hand. Pointed behind Mara.
She turned sharply.
No one was there.
When she looked back, the mirror was empty. No reflection. No frame. Nothing.
Just grass.
She stepped forward anyway. Touched the spot where the mirror had been. Her fingers met nothing. Only open air.
The charm in her pocket stirred again. The stone pulsed once.
Something had changed. Again.
She stood still for a moment.
Then, footsteps. Behind her this time. Real ones.
She turned, already bracing.
A boy stood a few paces away, maybe her age. Not from the village. She'd never seen him before. His clothes were travel-worn. A satchel hung at his side, thinner than hers. His hair was dust-colored, messy, and his eyes flicked quickly between her face and her hands.
He raised both palms like he meant no harm.
"I didn't mean to sneak up. I thought you were—" He hesitated. "You're not with the others, are you?"
Mara didn't move. "What others?"
He blinked. Looked around like he expected someone else to appear. "The people in the village. I've been avoiding the main roads."
Mara stayed silent.
The boy scratched behind his ear. "Sorry. I'm just passing through. But I keep ending up back here."
She watched him. He looked tired. Honest. Maybe.
She finally said, "You saw the mirror?"
He blinked again. "What mirror?"
That was answer enough.
She didn't relax, but she nodded once. "You're not one of them."
He looked around again. "You're out here alone?"
"Not exactly."
That seemed to satisfy him. He gestured vaguely toward the trees. "Is there a path out that way? I've been trying to find one."
Mara hesitated, then nodded toward the stream. "Follow that. It won't lead back to the road. But it's safe enough."
He nodded in thanks, then paused. "Name's Ren."
She didn't give hers right away.
Then, after a breath, "Mara."
He offered a brief smile, not the full kind, just enough. "If we run into each other again, I hope it's not in the middle of another haunted clearing."
He turned and followed the stream.
She watched him go until he disappeared behind the trees.
Then finally, she let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.
She looked back at where the mirror had been. The grass hadn't shifted.
But something about the clearing still felt unfinished.
She touched the charm again. "I'm listening."
No reply. Just wind.
But it carried the scent of smoke again.
Fainter now.
Further away.
She followed.