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CHAPTER 4 — The Girl Beneath the Roots
The forest was quiet again. Too quiet.
Aren knelt beside the unconscious girl, his breath still uneven from the fight. The air around them shimmered faintly—like the whole forest held its breath. He reached out, brushing a strand of her silver hair aside. Beneath the dirt and dried blood, her skin seemed to catch the light in strange ways—like morning frost touched by dawn.
"Who are you?" he whispered.
Her only answer was the slow rise and fall of her chest.
Aren hesitated, then gently lifted her. She was light—far too light, as though her body was more spirit than flesh. He carried her into the hollow of the great tree where the crystal seed still pulsed with faint light. There, in that living glow, he laid her down.
The forest murmured softly. Roots shifted underfoot, curling around the hollow's edges as if creating a cradle.
Aren blinked. "You're… protecting her, aren't you?"
No voice replied, but he could feel it—the quiet hum of agreement through the ground.
He sat down beside her, exhaustion finally catching up. His arms ached, his cuts burned, but none of it mattered. His mind was full of questions that refused to quiet.
Why had he appeared here? Why did the forest move for him? And why did this girl carry the same symbol carved into the stones?
He stared at her face—peaceful, yet sorrowful, even in sleep. The kind of expression that belonged to someone who had already lost too much.
"You said… it belongs to her," he murmured, glancing at the floating crystal. "Who's her?"
The crystal pulsed once, like a heartbeat.
And for a moment—just a heartbeat—Aren thought he saw the image of a woman in the glow. Vast. Radiant. Eyes like dawn breaking across the horizon. But then it vanished, leaving only light.
Aren exhaled shakily. "The world itself…?"
The girl stirred.
Her eyes fluttered open—soft blue at first, then deepened into something almost silver, reflecting the light of the crystal. She stared up at him in confusion.
"...You," she whispered.
Her voice was fragile, like glass about to crack.
Aren leaned closer. "Don't move. You're hurt."
She blinked slowly. "You touched it."
"What? The crystal?"
She nodded weakly, her gaze never leaving his. "Then it's true… the world chose you."
Aren froze. "Chose me? No, that can't— I didn't even ask to come here."
"None of us did," she said softly, eyes closing again. "But you… you're different. The world summoned no hero this time…"
Her breathing grew uneven. He reached for her hand instinctively. It was cold, trembling.
"Hey," he said, panic rising. "Stay awake. Tell me what that means."
She gave a faint, tired smile. "You'll see soon enough. Just… don't let them find it."
"Find what?"
"The heart," she murmured, voice fading. "The world's heart…"
Then she slipped back into unconsciousness.
Aren sat there, staring at her, the weight of her words pressing against him like stone.
The world's heart.
No hero this time.
What did it all mean?
He looked at the crystal again. It still pulsed softly, but now the rhythm matched the sound of his own heartbeat. The thought made his skin crawl.
Outside, the forest shifted. The leaves shivered, the wind picked up—and far in the distance, something moved.
A low rumble rolled through the ground, like distant thunder—or footsteps too heavy to belong to anything human.
Aren rose slowly, eyes narrowing toward the darkened woods.
"Guess peace never lasts long," he muttered.
He glanced back at the girl, still pale and sleeping beside the crystal. "Don't worry. Whatever's coming… I'll keep you safe."
The forest gave no answer. But as he stepped toward the entrance of the hollow, the roots stirred slightly, curling protectively tighter around her.
Outside, a faint red light flickered through the fog—too steady to be fire, too alive to be natural.
Aren gripped the jagged rock still stained from the fight. His pulse quickened.
Something was coming.
And this time, it wasn't just shadows.
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⚙️ End of Chapter 4