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Sun Cycle... 4? Moon? Who knows. Deep in the Whisperwood.
Right ink's blotchy. Hand's shaking. Writing this by the dying glow of embers I frantically resurrected after... well, after The Eyes. Let's call the owner of said Eyes 'Twiggy'. Seems less terrifying. It isn't.
Those green lights didn't just stare. They moved. Unfolding from the darkness like a nightmare deciding to get some fresh air. Picture this: way too tall, limbs like snapped branches held together with shadows and spite, bark-textured skin that looked like it would give you splinters just by looking at it, and those awful, pale green eyes. They didn't glow brightly, more like the faint phosphorescence you get from deep-sea fish or questionable leftovers. It made this rustling, clicking sound as it moved, like a termite infestation the size of a horse. The old woman called them Lurkswoods, didn't she? Apt. It lurked. Professionally.
It stepped into the firelight. Didn't flinch from the flames. Just tilted its head, those emotionless green orbs fixed on me. My brain, helpfully, offered up a highlight reel of every bad decision I've ever made, starting with leaving Oakhaven and currently peaking at 'existing within eating distance of Twiggy here'.
A slightly low-angle shot from behind Kael's shoulder. He's huddled near a small, flickering campfire in a small clearing, looking nervously into the dark, imposing woods that surround him. His pack is propped against a log nearby. In the foreground, slightly out of focus, is the edge of his parchment resting on his knee, his hand holding a quill poised above it. In the deep background shadows, barely visible, are the two faint, eerie green lights mentioned in the cliffhanger, suggesting something large lurking just beyond the firelight. The mood is one of isolation and encroaching unease.
So, what does Kael the Intrepid Explorer do? Does he have a hidden ancestral weapon? A secret magical talent? Nope. I yelped, scrambled backwards, grabbed a burning stick from the fire – nearly setting my own britches alight in the process, smooth – and waved it like a lunatic. "Get back!" I squeaked, voice cracking embarrassingly. "Bad... tree... bug... thing! Shoo! Go on, git!" Real heroic. Shakespeare wept.
Twiggy didn't 'git'. It made a noise. A series of sharp, rapid clicks from somewhere in its chest cavity. Click-click-clack-click. It sounded less like communication and more like it was calculating the optimal trajectory to snatch me. It took a slow, deliberate step forward. The firelight glinted off something that looked disturbingly like teeth made of hardened sap.
I was mentally composing my obituary ('Here lies Kael. He tried.') when something else happened. Deeper in the woods, somewhere off to my left, came an answering sound. Not clicks. A low, resonant hum. Deep. Vibrating. It felt less like a sound I heard and more like something buzzing in my teeth. Almost immediately after the hum started, there was another series of clicks, but different. Slower, more structured. Tick... tock... tick...
Twiggy froze. Its head snapped towards the direction of the hum. Those green eyes seemed to flicker, maybe dimmed slightly? Hard to tell when you're actively trying not to become mulch-monster chow. It hesitated, took one jerky step back, then another. Then, with a speed that defied its spindly frame, it just… folded itself back into the shadows and vanished. Like the woods just swallowed it whole. Gone.
Saved by the… hum? Didn't stick around for introductions. Survival instinct, previously thought missing, finally kicked in. I stomped out the fire, grabbed my pack (leaving behind, I later realised, my favourite waterskin – damn it!), and ran. Not towards the hum, definitely not back towards Oakhaven, just… away. Blindly. Through pitch-black woods that seemed determined to trip me, smack me with unseen branches, and generally make my escape as unpleasant as possible. Every rustle was Twiggy’s cousin. Every shadow held teeth.
Felt like hours. Maybe it was minutes. Time gets weird when you think you're about to be the main course. Eventually, lungs burning, legs feeling like overcooked noodles, I practically fell into the base of a tree. Except... it wasn't just any tree. This thing was colossal. The trunk was wider than my Gran's entire cottage, easily. And the bark... it wasn't rough and cracked. In the gloom, parts of it felt strangely smooth, almost polished, cool to the touch. I stumbled into a natural hollow at its base, a space sheltered by massive, gnarled roots.
And the hum? It was here. Faint, but definitely the same deep, resonant thrum I heard before. It seemed to be coming from the tree itself. Deeper within the hollow, where the roots plunged into the earth, a soft, rhythmic blue light pulsed. Faint, like a captured heartbeat. Thrummm... pulse... Thrummm... pulse... The air inside the hollow felt... different. Cleaner. Sharper. Like right after a lightning strike. It smelled of ozone and damp, ancient earth.
Okay, Kael. Assess. Option A: Go back out there with Twiggy and its potentially numerous, equally charming relatives. Option B: Huddle inside a giant, humming, faintly glowing tree like a weird, terrified dryad. Option B looking pretty good right now. But the hum... it's getting stronger. Not louder, exactly, but... more intense. The blue light is brightening, casting flickering azure shadows on the smooth wood inside the hollow. And the bark... right in front of me... the pattern isn't stable. It’s swirling. Like liquid wood, patterns forming and dissolving, flowing like water under a thin skin. It's mesmerizing, deeply unsettling, and pulling my focus entirely.
The swirling intensifies. The blue light flares, momentarily blinding. With a sound like shifting stone, but somehow softer, less... physical, a section of the smooth tree trunk directly in front of me, easily the size of a door, retracts smoothly inwards. It doesn't reveal damp earth or tangled roots. It reveals a passage, bathed in the same pulsing blue light, leading down, down into darkness beneath the ancient tree. The hum surges, a tangible pressure in the air, seeming to pull me towards the opening.
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