Lucy jolted upright with a strangled gasp.
Her breath tore in and out in frantic bursts, her eyes wide and wet, searching the dark room for wolves that weren't there. Her hands clutched the blanket to her chest. For a moment, she couldn't tell if she was still dreaming.
The moonlight through the window looked too much like the light clinging to that figure's skin.
A shadow moved in the corner.
"Lucy?" Merlin's voice was low, cautious. "It's okay—it was just a dream."
She whipped her head toward him.
He was already halfway out of the chair, his brows drawn in concern, his posture sharp and alert like a soldier responding to an alarm. But his eyes—his eyes were soft.
"Merlin…" she whispered, and only then did she feel the tears on her face. "He was there. The man from the forest. He was… he was glowing. And he howled and the wolves—"
Her words crumbled into a sob.
Merlin didn't rush toward her. He moved slowly, carefully—like he understood that sometimes, sudden comfort could shatter a fragile moment.
"Can I sit?" he asked gently, nodding toward the edge of the bed.
Lucy nodded, trembling.
He settled down beside her, not too close, not too far. Just enough that she could feel another living presence anchoring her to the waking world.
"What did you see?" he asked quietly.
Lucy closed her eyes, forcing the words out. "My father… he was coughing blood. Falling. And that… thing was standing over him. Blocking me from reaching him. Like it didn't want me to see his face. It felt like… like he was claiming my father."
Merlin inhaled sharply but stayed silent.
Lucy wiped her face with shaking fingers. "I don't know why I'm dreaming about him. I don't even know who he is. But I feel like… like he's connected to everything."
Merlin was quiet for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost hesitant.
"Lucy… there's something I need to tell you. Something I didn't want to bring up tonight because you've already been through too much."
She looked up at him—fragile, but ready.
"Tell me," she whispered.
Merlin exhaled. "The… glowing man—the wolves—the strange presence in the forest… they all align with something I heard in the village. Something your father… might have also stumbled onto."
Lucy's breath caught. "What kind of something?"
"A legend," Merlin replied. "One the villagers speak of only in whispers. One the Forest Bureau officially denies exists."
Lucy's pulse quickened. "A legend?"
Merlin nodded slowly.
He shifted, his forearms resting loosely on his knees, eyes drifting to the floor as if pulling memories from the soil itself.
"Hundreds of years ago," he began, "long before Wenesó became a city, before the Forest Bureau existed, before people ever dared to map the Evergreen… there was a kingdom here. A powerful one."
He paused, gauging her reaction. She nodded for him to continue.
"This king was obsessed with conquering the northern lands. He believed the gods favored him… until one day he discovered that the forest—Evergreen—was older than his bloodline. Older than any scripture. Older than time itself."
Lucy swallowed hard. "Older than time?"
"So the legend says," Merlin murmured. "The forest wasn't just a home to animals. It housed beings… entities… that weren't entirely human or beast. They were nature born. Some said they were the forest's guardians. Others said they were curses given shape."
Lucy wrapped her arms around herself, chills running down her spine.
"What were they like?" she whispered.
"No one truly knows. But the villagers claim some could heal wounds with a touch, manipulate the wind, control the movement of the moon's light on the trees. Some were said to be immortal—unchanged through centuries."
"That sounds impossible."
"It does," Merlin admitted. "But so does a man glowing in moonlight."
Lucy's breath faltered.
Fair point.
He continued, voice deepening with something heavier.
"The king… when he learned of these beings, he decided to capture them. He wanted their power for himself. Imagine immortality in the hands of a man who already commanded an army."
Lucy felt dread knot in her stomach.
"So he hunted them?"
"He tried," Merlin said. "But Evergreen was too deep. Too old. And these creatures… they were not prey."
"What happened?" she asked softly.
"A war," Merlin whispered. "A brutal one. The tribes who lived in the forest—the people of nature, the ones closest to these beings—fought back. They worshipped a guardian spirit. A deity. Their protector."
Lucy leaned closer without realizing it. "What kind of deity?"
Merlin looked at her, his dark eyes reflecting something ancient.
"A wolf," he said. "Massive. Divine. They called him Arathos—the Wolf God of Evergreen."
Lucy felt her pulse stutter.
"Arathos was nature's fury embodied," Merlin went on. "The guardian of the forest. According to the legend, he led the creatures and tribes in battle. But even gods can bleed, Lucy. And the king… was cruel."
The air in the room felt colder, thicker—like the forest itself had crept in through the walls.
"The king ordered the forest burned," Merlin said quietly. "Every tree. Every home. Every creature. The tribes begged him to stop. They warned him the forest was sacred, that to harm it was to invoke nature's wrath."
"Did he listen?" Lucy whispered.
Merlin shook his head. "He slaughtered the tribal warriors. Murdered their children. Burned their shrines to ash. Then… he set fire to the grove where Arathos was worshipped. They say the Wolf God screamed that night. That the whole mountain trembled."
Lucy's throat tightened, horrified.
"But… gods can't die," she said weakly.
"No," Merlin agreed. "But they can lose their form. Their strength. And when the king struck the final blow—when the forest burned and the tribes lay dead—one woman remained."
"Who?" Lucy whispered.
"The matriarch of the clan," Merlin replied. "She was wounded, dying. But with her last breath, she cursed the king."
"What curse?"
Merlin met her eyes, and Lucy felt the weight of centuries in his gaze.
"That from the ashes of the forest," he said softly, "a creature would be born—part human, part wolf, forged from divine anger. A being shaped by nature itself. This creature would find the king's descendants… and destroy them."
Lucy felt her blood run cold.
"A creature born from the blood of both man and beast," Merlin whispered. "And guided by the Wolf God's will."
The room fell silent.
Lucy didn't breathe.
Merlin leaned back slightly, the chair creaking under him.
"That," he said, "is the legend the tribes passed down. The Forest Bureau pretends it's just a story. But the villagers… they say Evergreen never forgot that night."
Lucy swallowed, her voice cracking. "And you think… the glowing man…"
"I think," Merlin said carefully, "that whatever you saw in your dream… whatever appeared in that CCTV footage… whatever was near your father when he died… may not be human. And it may not be new."
Lucy hugged her knees to her chest, shaken.
The glow of moonlight on skin.
The howl.
The wolves.
Her father collapsing.
A figure protecting—or claiming—him.
"Why would he appear now?" she whispered.
Merlin didn't answer immediately. When he did, his voice was low, careful.
"Maybe because something—or someone—is awakening again in Evergreen," he said. "And if that's true… then your father wasn't the first victim."
Lucy felt dread coil in her stomach.
"And you…" Merlin continued quietly, "may not be the last."