I woke before the sun.
I wasn't sure how much I had truly slept, but the air still smelled of fresh wood and Declan's essence. I turned carefully, expecting to find him asleep beside me, but the bed was already empty. Still warm… but empty.
For a moment, I thought I had dreamed it all — the ceremony, his fingers on my cheek, his voice promising to wait. But the ring was still on my hand. And I was no longer the same.
I sat on the bed for a while, wrapped in the sheets, watching as the blue light of dawn began to paint the walls. I felt suspended, as if my body hadn't yet decided whether it belonged to this world or the other — that other world that was slowly revealing itself through whispers and symbols.
Then I heard footsteps in the hallway. Declan.
I touched my chest; my heart was already beating in anticipation.
When he opened the door, he was holding a cup of tea in one hand and wearing an expression I couldn't quite read. Neither a smile nor a shadow — just that dangerous calm that seemed to surround everything about him.
—Good morning, wife —he said, his voice low and rough.
—Good morning… early riser? —I tried to joke, but even to me it sounded awkward.
He handed me the cup and sat beside me.
—Today we'll go to the eastern forest —he said—. There's something else you need to see.
His tone was solemn. Not a warning, but an invitation.
—Something else I should know about this forest? —I asked, trying to sound casual, though a quiet alert was rising in my voice. After everything that had happened, I had begun to notice that every step on this island came with another layer of something hidden beneath it.
I studied him closely, waiting for some clarity, some direction — or maybe just confirmation that my intuition wasn't wrong.
Declan held my gaze, and for a moment he didn't seem to be searching for an answer but rather measuring the silence between us. He leaned slightly closer, just enough for me to feel his breath.
—You don't have to feel different yet —he said finally—. What happened last night was a ritual, not a transformation. You're still the same. Only now... there are more eyes watching you.
He paused briefly, then added:
—The people might take a while to accept you, but the island already has. And so have I.
I nodded, though I wasn't entirely sure I understood. But for now, that was enough to keep me moving.
—Dress warmly. The eastern forest isn't like the rest of the island.
I dressed in silence, choosing a dark blue wool cloak that Melyra had left hanging by the door, lined with something soft and warm. Outside, the air bit sharper than usual. The wind came from the east, as if it already knew we were heading its way.
Declan waited for me at the bottom of the hill, two horses already saddled. His —black and tall as a shadow— was named Ozzy. Mine was smaller, silver-coated, with a handwoven blanket draped over the saddle. I mounted without speaking. He didn't, either. The silence between us wasn't uncomfortable; it was heavy, meaningful. As if we both knew that soon, words would become useless.
The path toward the eastern forest wasn't marked like the others. It wasn't a route used by the villagers — it was older, wilder. The branches hung low, almost grazing our skin. The ground was damp and covered in moss, and the sunlight barely filtered through the thick canopy above.
—This forest… —I began, not sure what I was asking.
—It's alive —Declan said without looking at me—. More than any other place on the island. And not everyone who enters… leaves the same.
—And me?
He pulled on the reins, and my horse stopped beside his.
—I hope you leave with a few answers.
We rode on. The trees seemed to whisper to each other. In the distance, I heard a faint echo — a song, ancient and wordless, carried by the wind. And then I felt it: something moving around us. A presence. Not visible, but imprinted in the air.
—Don't look directly —Declan warned softly—. Just keep walking. And if you feel something watching you… don't look back. Not yet.
I swallowed hard and nodded.
The island was watching me. And this time… it was expecting something.
Then, beneath us, the ground trembled — barely perceptible, but enough to make the horses restless. Mine whinnied softly, and Declan calmed it with a word in a language I didn't know. I turned toward him, but he was already staring ahead, toward a clearing.
—Do you feel that? —he asked, his jaw tight.
I nodded. It wasn't a tremor — it was a pulse. As if something beneath the earth had begun to stir, to beat.
—It's here —he said, dismounting in one fluid motion.
I followed, though my legs felt weak. We walked to the edge of the clearing, and there, at its center, stood a massive stone, worn by time. But what rested above it was… impossible.
A figure. Human. Suspended in the air, as if floating in sleep. Her skin was pale with silver undertones, her long hair cascading like water toward the ground without ever touching it. She didn't breathe — yet I could feel she was alive.
—Who is that…? —I whispered, unable to move closer.
—She is the island's consciousness —or so we believe— Declan said quietly. —But she's been here for centuries. Since the beginning.
A current of energy began to build in my chest. Something inside me ignited. The figure, without opening her eyes, turned her face slightly toward me. The air froze. And then I heard it — not with my ears, but inside me, like a thought that wasn't mine.
"At last..."
The word pierced through me without sound. It wasn't an echo. It wasn't a voice. It was a certainty, nailed straight into the center of my chest. At last.I didn't know if it was a warning, a welcome... or a memory.
I took a step toward the figure, unable to stop myself. It was as if an invisible force were pulling me closer. The air thickened, almost liquid. My legs felt weightless, yet every step heavier than the last.
Declan moved quickly, stepping between us without touching me.
—No closer —he said firmly.
—I can feel it calling me —I whispered. And it was true. Something in that figure knew me. Knew who I was — better than I did.
—That's what it does. It's done it before. To others.
—And what happened to them?
Declan didn't answer.
The floating figure rose slightly higher, as if the forest itself were breathing with her. The leaves trembled, though there was no wind. A low hum filled the air — a frequency that made my bones vibrate. I placed a hand on my chest, right where I'd once felt the echo of the blood vial.
The figure, still serene, began to glow from within. Not a harsh light — a pulse. One beat. Then another.
Each pulse, synchronized with mine.
And then, she opened her eyes.
It was the last thing I saw.
My mind couldn't bear the intensity of that moment. Everything turned white — not from light, but from absence. The shared pulse became too much, as if my body couldn't contain it. I collapsed without resistance, consumed by a feeling of absolute surrender, as though something far greater than me had taken over.
There was no fear. No pain. Only the certainty that I had crossed a threshold I might never wish to return from.
…
I woke in my bed.
The light of dusk filtered through the window. Outside, the sea crashed with unusual force. Melyra sat beside me, a bowl of water and a damp cloth in her hands. She looked at me as if I'd returned from the dead.
—What happened? —I asked, my voice hoarse.
—You fainted —she said—. Declan carried you back. He hasn't left your side until just now.
My heart pounded unevenly. Something inside me had changed. But I didn't know what.
And him… where was he now?
As if reading my thoughts, Melyra dipped the cloth again, placed it on my forehead, and spoke calmly:
—Shipwreck survivors washed up on the northern shore this morning. It was… strange. No one saw them arrive, no boats were heard. They were simply there — as if they had risen straight from the sea itself. Declan went to investigate. He said he'd return before nightfall.
I stayed silent. The weight of the forest, the floating figure, and now this — everything felt as though it were beginning to connect in ways I still couldn't grasp.
Outside, the sky was turning violet. The wind shifted direction, and the branches creaked as if warning of something unseen. Melyra looked at me once more, and this time, in her eyes, I saw something different — not just worry, but fear.
—Sereniah —she said softly—. Perhaps… this is only the beginning.
The window rattled with a sudden gust. The sea roared louder than before.
And I felt it — something was coming...Something even the island itself might not be ready to face.