Wildwood: The veins of the earth

The spire had vanished by morning. The sky was clearer than it had been in weeks, and the ocean lay calm and glassy as if nothing had breached its surface the night before. But Clara and Ashani knew what they’d seen. The image burned in both of them: that impossible pillar of black stone rising from the deep, veined with pulsing green light. A root. A marker. A promise. Clara stared at the water from the lighthouse kitchen window, her tea forgotten in her hands. She didn’t speak until Ashani sat beside her. “It’s waking faster than Varethkaal ever did,” Clara said. “Because it’s older,” Ashani replied. “The codex warned about the deep ones. Those who swam before light touched the sky.” Clara opened her bag and pulled out her journal. Her handwriting sprawled across the pages—rushed notes, sketches, glyphs she hadn’t yet translated. In the center of one page: the name Marellen, drawn in charcoal, surrounded by symbols that bled when traced with seawater. “We need to find where th

The storm cracked open the sky. Wind howled like a thing in pain, rattling every board of the lighthouse. Salt lashed the windows, not from the ocean, but from the very air itself—as if the sea had taken flight, invading the land to reclaim something long denied. Inside, Clara, Ashani, and Isla sat huddled around the binding bowl, its contents glowing faintly with green-blue phosphorescence. “The glyphs won’t hold much longer,” Ashani said, flipping through the codex. “These were meant for soil-born things, rooted horrors. Not… this.” Clara didn’t answer. She stared into the bowl, watching tiny symbols swirl through the liquid ash. It moved like memory. “We’ve been thinking about it wrong,” she said quietly. “Marellen isn’t just a creature. It’s a response. A reaction to a wound no one closed. A seed left to fester.” Ashani raised an eyebrow. “A response to what?” “To forgetting,” Clara said. “To forsaking old bonds. The Yanuwah bound the forest, but they never finished the rite

Emily had never felt the earth beneath her so alive. It wasn’t the warm thrum of life she had once known—the steady pulse of a heart, the sound of breath, the flow of blood. No, this was something deeper. Something older. The roots that wrapped around her limbs were like cold fingers, pulling her downward, drawing her into a place that wasn’t just buried—it was forgotten. Her body, broken but still clinging to its last breath, hovered in a sea of darkness. The surface above her was distant, unreachable. She didn’t know how long she had been trapped beneath the roots of WildWood. Hours? Days? Time had stopped making sense the moment the ritual had gone wrong. The moment the seed had split, and the part of Marellen that she had thought to silence was unleashed. And now, it called to her. “Emily…” Her name wasn’t a voice. It was an echo. A presence. It surrounded her, threading through her thoughts, winding around her bones. She had thought the forest’s hunger was quenched. But the

The cavern was silent, save for the distant creaking of the roots and the faint echo of Emily’s scream that still lingered in the air. Time seemed to stretch, the seconds dragging as if the world itself was holding its breath. Clara’s heartbeat thundered in her ears, and her vision blurred for a moment, caught between the oppressive darkness and the flickering light from the relic. Ashani stood frozen, her body tense, the relic still glowing brightly in her hands. But it was Isla who first broke the silence, stepping forward with a quiet but determined expression. “We have to finish it now. While we have the chance.” Clara nodded, her throat tight. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to demand the forest release its grip on Emily, but she could see the truth in Isla’s eyes. Every moment they hesitated meant the darkness would tighten its hold even more. With a silent gesture, Clara motioned for Ashani to step forward. Together, they moved toward Emily, whose body now trembled with u

The moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glow across the forest as Clara, Ashani, Isla, and Emily made their way deeper into the heart of WildWood. The air was thick with a strange stillness, an unsettling silence that seemed to echo in the absence of the usual nocturnal sounds. There were no crickets, no rustling leaves, no hoots from owls. It was as if the forest itself was waiting—waiting for something. Clara felt the weight of it all pressing down on her. Emily, walking beside her, had grown quiet, her eyes scanning the shadows around them. It was clear the ordeal had taken its toll on her; her movements were slow, her face pale, and her steps unsteady. Clara wanted to comfort her, but she knew there was no time for that. They had more pressing matters. “We need to get to Hollow Hill,” Clara said, breaking the silence. “It’s where the first bindings were done. It’s the only place that might still hold the answers we need.” Ashani nodded from behind them, her expression g