Chapter no 11
Whispers Beneath the Earth
When Aira and Mira stepped into the forest again, it felt as if the trees remembered them. The wind was not blowing, but the branches were swaying softly, making soft rustling sounds through the passing of whispers from leaf to leaf. Aira stopped, clutched the strap of her satchel, and her eyes scanned the dark woods.
"Are you sure about this?" Mira asked, wrapping her cloak tighter around her. She was not afraid—only wary. Mira had good instincts, keener than most others their age. If she sensed danger, she never ignored it.
Aira nodded. "The visions will not stop unless I understand them. Someone… something… is calling.
Mira raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, you mentioned the 'voice.' But we don't even know if that's real…"
"It feels real," Aira whispered. "Too real."
They continued deeper. The sunlight grew fainter and was swallowed by thick branches, until the forest felt like evening, though it was barely afternoon. The air smelled of wet earth and moss; somewhere far away came the echo of water dripping-slow, rhythmic.
Then suddenly, the sound changed.
A crack.
Aira froze. "Did you hear that?"
Mira instantly moved into position in front of her, protective as always. "Stay behind me."
A shadow darted between two trees.
Aira's breath caught. "There!"
But by the time Mira turned, the shadow was gone. There was only silence left-too deep, too heavy.
"Okay." Mira muttered under her breath. "This forest is officially creepy."
Aira didn't respond. She felt this weird tug in her chest, this pull like some invisible thread was drawing her forward. She knew she needed to explain it to Mira, but she couldn't find the words. How do you explain a force that felt more like destiny than magic?
"Let's move." Mira gently pushed Aira's shoulder. "Whatever happens, I won't let anything hurt you."
But at that, Aira's heart warmed; and before she could speak, the forest shifted once more. The ground beneath their feet began to vibrate, softly at first, then stronger, as if something beneath the soil woke.
A low hum rose from beneath them.
Mira grasped Aira's hand. "Aira…?"
"I feel it," Aira whispered. "It's calling again."
The humming grew louder. Leaves quivered, rocks shook, and birds burst from the tree tops in a sudden frantic mass. Then the ground split open only yards in front of them with a deafening roar, spewing out dust and ancient roots.
Mira shielded Aira, pushing her back. "Stay behind—!"
But Aira stepped forward, entranced—not by foolishness, but by recognition. She knew this place, she had seen it in her dreams.
A huge stone slab rose from the ground. Vines slithered away from it like frightened snakes. The slab was carved with symbols, crooked lines and spirals and shapes that made no sense until Aira's eyes landed on one near the center.
Her symbol.
The same one that glowed in her dreams.
The same one which had burned in her palm last night.
"You've got to be kidding," Mira whispered. "Aira, tell me that's coincidence."
Aira slowly shook her head. "I don't think anything about this is coincidence."
A sharp wind whipped around them. The markings in the stone began to glow softly, lighting one after another in a soft gold.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
The humming noise from beneath grew louder, almost painful.
Mira took a step closer to Aira. "I'm starting to hate this forest."
Aira lifted her hand instinctively and pressed it against the glowing symbol matching her birthmark.
"Aira, wait—!"
The moment her hand touched the stone, the forest fell silent.
Completely silent.
No wind.
No leaves.
No birds.
No humming.
Nothing.
Then the world shifted.
Aira felt herself falling, but not down. Inward, as if her mind was being pulled into the stone. The darkness swallowed her whole, ensnaring her where she could no longer sense her own body. Her thoughts scattered like dust, and she heard a faint whisper in the void:
"Child of the forgotten bloodline… the seal trembles…"
She gasped, trying to speak, but the voice vanished like smoke.
Then—
She was back.
Her knees hit the ground hard, and she clutched at her chest, gasping for air. The world spun violently around her, colors bleeding and melting until Mira's face finally came into focus.
"Aira! Hey—look at me!" Mira held her shoulders firm. "Are you okay? Talk to me!"
Aira took a shaky breath. "I—I heard it again. A voice."
Mira's face darkened. "What did it say?"
"That… something is trembling. Something sealed." Her voice was trembling. "And… that I'm from a forgotten bloodline."
Mira stared at her. "Aira, have you ever told anyone else about these visions? About the voice?"
Aira shook her head. "No. Only you.
Mira let her breath out slowly. "Good. Because if anyone else heard this, they might panic. Or worse—they might try to use you."
Aira's mouth opened slightly. Mira always protected her, but now her voice carried an edge of urgency Aira had never heard.
"What do you mean?" Aira whispered.
Mira bit her lip, seeming to weigh just how much she was willing to say. "Before my parents died, I overheard them talking. They said there were… people searching for children with strange marks. Children who weren't normal."
Aira swallowed. "You think I'm one of them?"
Mira didn't immediately answer. Her silence was the answer.
The soft wind finally returned. The symbols on the stone dimmed, falling back into silence. But something changed in the forest-akin to a warning being delivered.
Aira rose slowly, shaking her legs. "Why me, Mira? Why do I have this… whatever it is?"
"I don't know," Mira said honestly. "But I'm not going to leave you alone with it."
Aira nodded, but inside she felt a new weight—fear. Not of the forest, not of visions, but of what she might truly be. A forgotten bloodline? A sealed power? Why her?
Her hand throbbed faintly. The birthmark on the surface of her palm glowed like a tiny ember before fading again.
Mira saw it. "There. That mark again."
Aira frowned. She had tried to scrub it off when younger, thinking it was dirt. Then she tried to hide it with cloth or ink. Nothing worked. But she'd always assumed it was just a strange birthmark—nothing more.
"Let's head back," Mira said, her fingers closing delicately over her wrist. "We need to think. And we can't think here."
Aira nodded.
They turned to leave, but the forest wasn't done with them.
A rustling sound erupted behind them. Mira spun, shielding Aira. Her eyes narrowed. "Show yourself."
The branches parted, and a creature emerged from the shadows that neither of them had ever seen. It was tall, thin, with skin like cracked bark, and eyes aglow with hollow light, as if from lanterns. Its fingers were long, dragged along the dirt as it stepped forward.
Aira stumbled back. "W—what is that?"
"I don't know," Mira whispered, "but it's not friendly."
The creature cocked its head, sniffing the air as if smelling Aira specifically. Then it spoke in a low, gravelly voice:
"The seal weakens… the blood awakens…"
Aira's skin went cold.
Then the creature lunged.
Mira grasped Aira's hand and yanked her into a run. The forest erupted in motion behind them: snapping twigs, whipping leaves, the creature's low growl chasing them like a nightmare come to life.
"Don't stop!" Mira shouted.
"I'm not!" Aira cried back.
The creature was fast, too fast.
Just as it reached out, branches suddenly whipped around its limbs, dragging it back. The forest itself moved, vines twisting, roots tightening, restraining the monster as if obeying an ancient command.
Aira stared in disbelief. "The forest… protected us?"
Mira turned to Aira, then to the glowing stone slab behind them and whispered:
"No. It protected you."
Aira swallowed hard, her heartbeat echoing in her ears. The creature screamed and collapsed into dust, the wind scattering it like ashes.
There was silence again.
But nothing felt safe anymore.
Aira gazed at Mira with wide, frightened eyes. "Mira… what am I?" Mira framed her face with her hands and spoke softly but firmly: "You're Aira. The girl I promised to protect. And whatever you are beyond that-we'll face it together." Aira nodded, terrified and comforted all at once. Together, they emerged from the forest. But deep beneath the earth, way down below the glowing stone slab, something ancient shifted-slowly waking from a sleep it was never meant to escape.