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CHAPTER 5 — The Red Light in the Fog
The forest had gone still again.
Too still.
Aren crouched beside the hollow tree, the faint blue glow of the crystal seed pulsing gently beside him. The girl lay against the roots, pale and unmoving, her breathing shallow but steady. He'd done what little he could—covered her with his torn cloak, cleaned the dirt from her face—but she was fading, and he didn't know how to help her.
He was about to rest when he saw it.
A flicker—red, faint, and wrong—moving through the fog beyond the trees.
At first he thought it was firelight, maybe a torch. But then it pulsed. Once. Twice. Thrice.
Each beat was perfectly in time with the crystal's glow—blue and red alternating like heartbeats out of sync.
The forest whispered uneasily. Leaves shuddered. Roots tensed beneath the soil.
Aren's muscles tightened. He reached for the branch he'd used before, now little more than splintered wood, but it was better than nothing. "If that's another one of those wolves…" he murmured.
It wasn't.
The red light came closer, breaking through the fog in uneven patterns, until shapes emerged—human-shaped, but wrong. Their bodies were thin outlines of red mist, faces blank, movements jerky, as though something unseen pulled them forward by invisible strings.
Three of them.
Aren's chest constricted. "What the hell…"
The nearest figure twitched, its head turning toward him with a crackling noise. A voice came—not from its mouth, but from the air around it.
"Return… the seed."
He froze. "You can talk?"
"Return… what is stolen."
The voice distorted, echoing with pain, like the words were forced through static.
Aren's grip on the branch tightened. "I don't have anything of yours."
"The seed," it hissed again, taking a step closer. The fog swirled violently, carrying the faint scent of iron and ash.
Behind him, the girl stirred. Her fingers twitched. Her lips parted, a whisper barely escaping: "Don't… let them touch it…"
Aren glanced at her—then back at the figures, now only a few meters away.
He didn't have a choice.
When the first shade lunged, Aren ducked low, swinging the branch through its chest. The wood passed straight through, scattering the red mist—but the creature reformed instantly, glowing brighter.
A second one grabbed his arm. Its touch burned, cold and hot at once. He shouted, ripping free, skin searing where its hand had been.
The forest reacted.
The trees groaned, their branches twisting like serpents. The roots surged upward, forming barriers around the hollow. The blue glow of the crystal flared violently, as if protecting itself.
The shades screamed—a single, deafening cry that split the air—and then the world exploded with motion.
Aren didn't think. He moved with the forest. Dodged when the roots shifted. Struck when the vines lashed. Every movement was instinct and desperation.
One shade tried to reach the hollow; a tree root speared through its chest, scattering it into mist.
Another grabbed Aren by the throat, its face inches from his. "You… don't belong here…" it hissed, before a pulse of blue light erupted from behind, blasting it apart.
Aren turned.
The girl was awake.
Barely sitting, her hand extended toward the crystal, eyes glowing that same soft blue. The air shimmered around her, rippling like heat waves.
The last remaining shade screeched and rushed toward her, but before Aren could move, the crystal flared brighter than the sun.
Light burst outward—blue swallowing red—until everything vanished into white.
Then, silence.
When the light faded, the shades were gone. The forest was still again, breathing quietly, as if exhaling after holding its breath too long.
Aren stumbled toward the girl. "Hey… hey, you're awake."
Her eyes fluttered open. They were bright but unfocused, as though she saw through him, not at him.
"You shouldn't have touched the seed," she whispered.
"I didn't mean to. I—" He stopped. "What were those things?"
"Remnants," she murmured. "Fragments of what the world forgot."
Her hand dropped weakly to her side. "They come when the seed stirs. It remembers too much."
Aren frowned. "Then why did it react to me?"
Her gaze met his then—soft, curious, almost sad. "Because you're not from here. And the world… doesn't know if that's good or bad."
She leaned back against the roots, exhaustion overtaking her. "You should rest. It's not over yet."
Aren wanted to argue, but his body wouldn't let him. His arm burned, his throat ached, and his heartbeat echoed too loudly in his ears.
He sank down beside her, the blue glow of the seed flickering gently between them.
Outside, the mist thickened again, and far off—beyond the forest's edge—a crimson flash pulsed once more in the horizon.
The forest whispered faintly:
It begins again.
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End of Chapter 5
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