The first storm of the season had rolled in early.
Rain streaked across the glass of the valley station as Iris waited for the night train, a canvas bag slung over her shoulder. The mark on her wrist pulsed with quiet light each time thunder cracked above the mountains.
She told herself it was only nerves.
But the voice that had whispered from the tree still lingered behind her ribs.
Find him.
A flash of movement caught her eye—someone boarding through the opposite door. A tall man in a dark coat, hood dripping rain. When the lightning flared, she saw his face for an instant: sharp features, eyes the color of stormwater, and something wild in the way he looked at the horizon instead of people.
She looked away fast. The train groaned, gears catching, and began its climb through the valley.
Kael
He hadn't meant to stay on this train. The compass in his hand—one that hadn't worked in years—had spun once and pointed here. Toward the valley that haunted his dreams.
He sat near the window, coat still damp, fingers tracing the faint mark glowing through the cloth on his chest. Every few seconds it beat once, like it recognized something nearby.
When he finally looked up, he found the source.
The girl across the aisle was staring out the window, her reflection caught in the glass. Silver-blonde hair. Eyes too bright for this gray world.
And a mark on her wrist that pulsed in time with his own.
Kael froze.
No. It couldn't be coincidence.
He opened his mouth, but she turned first. Their eyes met.
The world didn't explode—but the lights flickered, the air trembled, and the train's metal frame sang a low, unearthly tone.
The Pull
Iris blinked, startled. "Did you feel—?"
"Yeah," Kael said. His voice was deep, rough like gravel smoothed by rain. "What was that?"
"I… don't know."
They stared a heartbeat too long. Then the mark on her wrist flared again, brighter than before, and a shock of heat ran through both of them. Outside, lightning forked downward and struck the valley floor.
The train screeched to a halt.
Passengers cried out. Lights died. For a moment, only silence—and the sound of rain hammering the roof.
Then Iris whispered, "It's calling us."
Kael hesitated. "What is?"
She looked toward the windows, where the darkness beyond glowed faintly gold. "The tree."
The Call of the Valley
They left the train together, neither sure why.
Wind howled across the fields, carrying the scent of ash and rain. The valley stretched ahead, half-lit by the shimmer of the legendary tree miles away.
Each step closer made the marks on their skin pulse faster, stronger.
By the time they reached the first ridge, the ground itself seemed to hum beneath their boots.
Iris pressed a hand to her chest, breath shaking. "This place—"
"I've been here before," Kael interrupted softly, eyes unfocused. "Not in this life. But I remember."
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Her gaze snapped to him. "You too?"
Lightning struck again, revealing their faces—fear, awe, and a strange recognition that felt older than memory.
The Whisper Returns
The tree's glow brightened as they approached. The air thickened with whispers, fragments of forgotten language curling through the mist.
You've come home.
Iris stumbled, clutching Kael's arm. Visions flared behind her eyes—two figures intertwined in light and shadow, a promise made at the edge of death.
Lucien. Elara.
She gasped, whispering the names without knowing why.
Kael stared at her, heart hammering. "What did you say?"
"I—" She couldn't breathe. "I don't know those names, but they feel like mine."
The mark on his chest answered, bursting into light. The glow spilled into hers until they were both outlined in gold and black fire. The ground trembled.
Above them, the tree began to bloom—petals of radiant darkness drifting through the air.
Echoes of Love
Kael reached for her hand, instinctively, like a man grasping the one truth he remembered. When their fingers touched, the world shifted.
They saw flashes—two lovers standing in the same spot centuries ago, defying gods, breaking realms, merging light and shadow. The vision ended with a whisper that carried through both of them.
You are our second chance.
Then the glow faded, leaving only the rain and their ragged breathing.
Iris looked up at him, trembling. "Who were they?"
Kael shook his head slowly. "Maybe who we used to be."
The storm eased. The air smelled of lightning and memory. For the first time, they both smiled—fragile, uncertain, inevitable.
And somewhere deep inside the roots of the tree, two ancient souls stirred again… watching, waiting to see if this time, love could survive the weight of destiny.