What The Forest Keeps

"You're smiling."

I stop smiling immediately.

Lyra steps out from between the trees, boots caked in mud, her braid half undone like she's spent the last hour hunting through the forest. She takes one look at me and crosses her arms.

"You disappeared."

"I went for a walk."

"You disappeared."

"Feels like we're repeating ourselves."

"Good. That means you're finally understanding."

I sigh. There's no point arguing once Lyra gets into this particular mood she gets annoyingly reasonable.

Her eyes sweep over me — the dirt-covered clothes, the scratches on my arms, the torn sleeve, the general look of someone who just lost a fight with a hillside.

"What happened?"

"I fell."

"You look like you lost a war."

"It was a very aggressive hill."

She stares. I stare back. Eventually she pinches the bridge of her nose.

"One day you're going to tell me the truth."

"Today isn't that day."

It slips out before I can stop it, and I regret it instantly.

Lyra notices. Of course she does. Something shifts in her expression not anger, not disappointment, something quieter and worse than either.

Concern.

"Kael." Her voice softens. "I know something's bothering you."

I look away. The ruins sit silent behind me, the memory of that voice still lingering.

Find me.

Just thinking about it makes my pulse spike. I don't know what I heard. I don't know if it was even real. And I definitely don't know how to explain any of it to her.

"Nothing's wrong."

Her eyebrow lifts a gesture so perfectly executed she probably deserves an award for it.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing important."

"Right." One word, and somehow it carries enough skepticism to sink a ship.

Before either of us can say more, wind sweeps through the clearing. The trees creak overhead, leaves scatter across the ancient stones, and for one second I think I hear the whisper again. Not words this time just a faint echo, like a voice carried from somewhere very far away.

I freeze.

Lyra catches it immediately. "What is it?"

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

The wind dies. Silence settles back in. Maybe I'm imagining things. That possibility is getting more annoying by the hour.

Lyra follows my gaze toward the ruins really seeing them for the first time and her expression shifts.

"What is this place?"

"I don't know."

"You found ancient ruins and didn't lead with that?"

"I got distracted."

"By what?"

I open my mouth. Close it again. Good question. The honest answer involves strange creatures, a mysterious woman, an impossible voice, and a rapidly growing suspicion that my life is about to get a lot more complicated.

Instead I go with: "It's been a weird day."

Lyra looks at me for a long moment. Then, out of nowhere, she laughs not because it's funny, but because it's such a ridiculous understatement that it loops back around to hilarious.

That gets me laughing too, and for a second the tension eases. The forest almost feels normal again.

Almost.

The walk back to Blackthorn territory takes longer than it should partly because Lyra insists on checking I'm not secretly bleeding out somewhere, partly because she keeps stopping to examine tracks.

The closer we get to the village, the more unsettled she looks.

I don't understand why at first. Then she points at the ground. "Look."

I follow her gaze. Tracks cross the path ahead several sets, large, wolf-shaped, fresh. I crouch down. Same strange spacing as before. Same wrong shape.

Lyra's face tightens. "These aren't ours."

"No."

She glances around, the way hunters do when they sense something nearby.

"What are they?"

I think about the creature. About the crimson eyes. About the way it smiled. My stomach turns.

"I don't know."

For once, that's not entirely a lie.

Dusk has settled over Blackthorn territory by the time we reach the village. Lanterns glow along the paths, smoke drifts from the chimneys, and pack members move between buildings as evening settles in.

Everything looks normal. It doesn't feel normal.

People are talking quieter than usual. Scouts move with more urgency. Warriors patrol in pairs instead of alone. Whatever tension came out of that council meeting hasn't gone away if anything, it's gotten worse.

Lyra feels it too. "Something happened."

I nod.

We're barely in the square when Beta Rowan appears, his expression darkening the second he spots me.

"Where have you been?"

Uh-oh. Not a greeting.

I run through a few possible answers. None of them improve the situation.

"Outside."

Rowan closes his eyes briefly, like he's asking the spirits for patience. "They've been searching for you all afternoon."

My stomach drops. "Who has?"

"Everyone."

Great. Wonderful.

Before I can respond, another voice cuts across the square.

"Kael."

One word, and it's enough to stop every conversation nearby. My father stands at the far end of the square, watching.

People quietly step aside, clearing a path between us. I briefly wish I were back in the forest getting chased by monsters. At least monsters are straightforward.

A few minutes later I'm sitting alone inside Alpha Hall, waiting.

The room feels bigger than usual. Fire crackles softly in the hearth. Ancient banners hang along the stone walls, and moonlight filters through the tall windows, carrying the weight of generations leadership, responsibility, expectation. Everything I try not to think about.

The door opens. My father walks in.

Neither of us speaks for a while. He moves toward the fireplace, and I notice his shoulders look heavier than usual. Older. More tired. It's a strange thing to notice I've spent most of my life thinking of him as larger than life, and it never really occurred to me that he could just be tired.

Finally he breaks the silence. "Where did you go?"

I look at the fire. "Into the forest."

"The northern forest?"

No point lying now. "Yes."

He closes his eyes. Something crosses his face not anger, frustration, like I've just confirmed a fear he'd been hoping wasn't true.

"I told you not to."

"I know."

"Then why?"

The question just hangs there. Simple, Direct and Hard to answer.

Because I'm tired of being treated like a child. Because nobody explains anything to me. Because curiosity won't leave me alone. Because part of me wanted answers, even dangerous ones.

"I wanted to know what everyone's hiding."

Silence. The fire crackles. He stares into the flames, and when he finally speaks, his voice is quieter.

"You think I'm hiding things from you."

"You are."

"No." He looks at me really looks at me, for the first time all evening. "I'm trying to protect you."

I almost laugh. Not because it's funny because it's so familiar. Adults always call it protection. From where I'm standing, it just looks like being shut out.

"From what?"

The question leaves the room dead silent. Something flickers across his face something close to fear and then it's gone, and he straightens up like the moment never happened.

"When the time comes," he says, "I'll tell you."

There it is again. Another non-answer answer. Another promise to wait. Another door closed in my face.

The conversation ends not long after. But as I leave Alpha Hall, one thought sticks with me he never actually denied it. He never said nothing's coming.

And for the first time, I'm not sure the mystery scares me as much as the idea that everyone else already knows the truth.

Everyone except me.

-------------------------------------------------

Far beyond Blackthorn territory, beneath the roots of a mountain forgotten by maps and memory, something ancient stirs.

A single golden eye opens in the dark.

And somewhere deep within the earth, chains groan — not breaking, not yet, but weakening.