Maya couldn't sleep.
The glowing lines that appeared on her arm faded after a few minutes, but she felt them lurking beneath the surface—like embers waiting to reignite.
Arlen kept watch by the edge of the clearing, unmoving, gaze fixed on the dark tree line.
"You should rest," he said.
"So you can sit there alone and pretend everything's normal?" She walked to him, wrapping her arms around herself. "No. If you don't sleep, I don't sleep."
He exhaled, a small, weary sigh. "I don't think sleep will come to me tonight."
She sat beside him. "Then we stay awake together."
The forest around them rustled—but not with wind or animals. It sounded like breathing.
Slow. Deep. Ancient.
Maya leaned closer to Arlen. "Arlen… do you ever feel like this place is alive?"
"It is," he replied. "Just not in any way we understand."
She hugged her knees. "Are we in danger?"
"Yes," he admitted. "But not in the way you think."
She turned to him sharply. "What does that mean?"
He hesitated.
"The forest wants us. It's not trying to kill us—it's trying to claim us."
"Claim us as what?"
Arlen looked at his hands, at the faint glow still lingering. "As its guardians. Or vessels. Or something else entirely."
Her stomach dropped. "We can't let that happen."
He shook his head. "I'm not sure it's something we can stop anymore."
Maya grabbed his arm. "Arlen, listen to me. I don't care what marks appeared on us. I don't care what some ancient mountain spirit thinks we are. You're still you. And I'm still me. We decide who we become."
He looked at her for a long moment—then finally nodded.
But before either of them could speak again, the ground trembled faintly.
Then again.
A rhythmic vibration pulsed beneath them—like footsteps.
Huge footsteps.
Maya's breath hitched. "Arlen—"
"I feel it."
The trees parted as something massive moved beyond sight. Not an animal—no creature walked with a cadence that steady, that deliberate.
The glowing lines on Arlen's skin flared.
"Maya, get behind me."
She obeyed, though fear fought to root her in place.
The footsteps grew louder.
Closer.
Then everything stopped.
Silence fell—thick, heavy, unnatural.
And then a voice—not spoken but felt—drifted through Maya's mind like a cold whisper.
"Return."
Maya gasped, clutching her head. "Arlen—it spoke—did you—"
He grabbed her shoulders. "I heard it too."
The forest around them dimmed as if the very shadows deepened.
The voice echoed again, louder this time.
"Return… come back to where you were awakened…"
The mountain.
The cave.
The ritual chamber.
Maya shook her head violently. "No. We're not going back there."
Arlen swallowed hard. "Maya… I don't think it's asking."
A low rumble rolled across the forest floor—like the mountain itself was calling.
And then, without warning, the markings on Maya's arm burst into light again—brighter, stronger, undeniable this time.
She screamed as heat surged through her veins.
Arlen caught her before she collapsed. "MAYA! Stay with me!"
"I—I can't—Arlen—I don't know what's happening—"
The light flared, illuminating the entire clearing.
Arlen pulled her into his arms, shielding her.
"I'm here," he whispered urgently. "I'm here. I won't let anything take you."
Her vision blurred—but she heard one last echo:
"Return… both of you…"
And then everything went black.