The forest trembled.
Not like a storm. Not like a fight.
But like something very old changing its mind.
Paul felt it first.
It wasn't pain. Nor strength.
It was heaviness.
As if all the roots of the forest were resting, for a moment, on his bones.
He didn't get up immediately.
Not because he couldn't.
But because he understood that if he got up too quickly, something might break.
The air was thick. The smell of wet earth, of crushed leaves, of life that had almost been lost.
The light that had risen from the earth didn't disappear.
It was settling.
Like a promise that could no longer be withdrawn.
Paul took a deep breath.
And then he knew.
Nothing had been asked of him.
But he had accepted everything.
The forest had not spoken to him again.
Codrion was silent.
And that silence was heavier than any command.
Paul stood up slowly.
Around him, the children did not move.
Oana looked at him without fear, but with an attention that did not belong to a child. The light on her hand pulsed weakly, like a heart learning a new rhythm.
Alex stood a little further back. His eyes were not fixed on Paul, but on the water that had gathered between the roots. The moon did not shine. He observed.
Vlad and Alexandra were close to each other.
The shadow had not left them.
But it had not swallowed them either.
Paul looked at them in turn.
Not as chosen ones.
But as remnants.
— I cannot take you back, he said finally.
His voice was calm, but new. Lower.
— We don't want to, Oana said simply.
The forest trembled faintly.
Not in approval.
But in acceptance.
Thus began the invisible time.
They didn't go anywhere.
The forest held them.
The days began to flow without names.
There were no more clear mornings or safe evenings. The light passed through the leaves differently. The night no longer scared.
Paul quickly understood that he couldn't teach them the way he had been taught.
Not through rules.
Not through orders.
— Power doesn't respond to haste, he told them one day, when Oana was trying to summon the light too quickly and her hands were shaking.
He placed his palm over hers.
— If you force it, it will burn you.
Oana closed her eyes.
She breathed.
The light receded.
And then it came back.
Softer.
More stable.
Paul smiled for the first time in a long time.
Alex didn't ask questions.
He learned by watching.
At night, Paul would see him standing by the water. Sometimes the water moved without wind. Other times, it remained perfectly still, even though leaves were falling into it.
— What do you see? Paul asked him one evening.
Alex was silent for a long time.
— Things that haven't happened yet.
Paul didn't ask for more.
He knew the price.
Vlad and Alexandra had good days and bad days.
Sometimes they knew what Paul was going to say before he opened his mouth.
Other times they forgot what they had done an hour before.
— The shadow doesn't take you, Paul told them. It lends you.
— And if we don't want it anymore? Alexandra asked.
Paul looked at her for a long time.
— Then you'll have to pay in another way.
He didn't tell them how.
The forest didn't ask him.
One morning, without a sign, without a dream, without warning, the place changed.
Paul felt it under his feet.
A path.
Not marked.
Recognized.
They walked without speaking.
The clearing was old.
Not like an abandoned place.
But like a place that no longer needed anyone.
In the center, a clear pond.
On the edges, white stones.
And among the roots, almost hidden:
The Medallion.
The Blue Crystal.
The Ring of the Moon.
And, a little further away, almost forgotten:
A simple bracelet.
Paul felt something bind.
Not yet.
But soon.
— Don't take anything, he said.
They listened.
The shadows came then.
Not as enemies.
But as a test.
Oana raised the light instinctively.
The shield formed.
Alex called for water.
Not with power.
With permission.
Paul stepped forward.
Roots came out of the ground.
Not with anger.
Not to break or crush.
But to stop.
They coiled around the shadows, caught them at the edge of the world and pulled them back, where they could do no harm. It wasn't a victory. It was a limit.
Vlad and Alexandra didn't run.
They felt the fear, but they didn't move.
They stayed where they were, between light and shadow, and the forest noticed this.
And that was enough.
When it was all over, there was no immediate silence.
There was heaviness.
The air seemed thicker, and the sounds of the forest slowly returned, one by one, like wounds that close too soon.
Paul stayed where he was.
His gaze fell on the objects in the clearing.
The medallion.
The crystal.
The ring.
And the bracelet, a little further away, almost ignored by the light.
Four.
But there were only three of them.
He didn't say anything right away.
But he felt an old suspicion take shape.
"Someone gave Raul power," he said finally, in a low voice. And it wasn't the forest.
The roots didn't move.
The leaves didn't whisper.
The forest didn't deny.
Far away, beyond the trees and the years, a village was on fire.
Paul didn't see it.
But he felt it.
He knew one of them would get there.
Alex.
Not yet.
Not today.
For the moment, Paul stood still, his hand resting on the bark of an old tree.
And he finally understood the truth of the covenant.
It hadn't started with strength.
Not with fighting.
But with waiting.
With the patience to hold the line.
With the determination to stay when leaving would have been easier.
Paul's story didn't end there.
He was barely learning what it meant to stay.
Time never flowed the same after that.
Not for Paul.
The days connected to each other without clear boundaries, and the nights were fuller than light. The forest didn't rush anything. Learning didn't come in leaps and bounds, but in slow, almost invisible accumulations.
Paul watched them change without realizing it.
Oana began to understand what it meant to carry light without wasting it.
At first, the light escaped her grasp. It appeared too quickly, too strongly, like a reaction to fear. Paul didn't stop it. He let her get tired.
— The light doesn't protect you if you're afraid of it, he told her one morning, when he found her exhausted, leaning against a tree. It only protects you when you let her stay.
Oana learned to breathe before raising her hand.
To let fear pass.
Only then did the light become a shield.
Alex learned the opposite.
He didn't have to call for anything.
The moon came anyway.
Sometimes too quickly.
Visions hit him in his sleep, waking him up with an irregular heartbeat. They weren't dreams. They were fragments – rising waters, fires that didn't burn the wood, faceless faces.
Paul stayed with him on the hard nights.
He didn't ask him what he saw.
— Not everything you see should be carried alone, he told her. But not everything you see should be told either.
Alex began to learn silence.
Vlad and Alexandra walked a more fragile path.
The shadow had not left them.
Sometimes they forgot what they had done the day before. Sometimes they said things that came true later. Paul did not correct them. He did not force them.
— If I pull you into the light too soon, I will break you, he told them. The shadow does not heal by running away.
There were days when the forest rejected them.
The trees did not respond.
The roots remained deep.
Then Paul sent them to work – to carry water, to clear paths, to repair what had been destroyed by the shadows.
— The power that does not know how to repair is not worth fighting for, he told them.
One evening, Codrion spoke again.
Not loudly.
Not clearly.
— Don't rush him.
Paul closed his eyes.
— I know.
But deep down, he already felt the price.
He looked at the children and saw what they would become.
And he knew he couldn't protect them from everything.
Far, far away, the fire burned again.
Alex stood up suddenly in the middle of the night.
—A village, he said.
Paul didn't see it.
But he felt it.
Not like a vision. Like a brief, precise pain in his chest.
He knew one of them would get there.
Paul felt the direction.
—Not yet, he answered. Not yet.
The learning wasn't over.
And the forest didn't forgive haste.
Alex felt the call that same night.
Not like an order.
Like an anxiety that wouldn't let him breathe.
He tried to stay. One day and then he left.
No fighting.
No promises.
Paul felt him pulling away, like a thread stretching too far.
He didn't stop him.
He knew some lessons couldn't be taught.
When Alex returned, he wasn't alone.
He was walking more slowly. Tired. But straight.
Beside him—a girl.
Her clothes were burned at the edges and an old cut on her arm. Her gaze was attentive, not frightened. Like someone who had seen enough.
Paul met them at the edge of the clearing.
He looked at Alex first.
—Are you okay?
Alex nodded.
—Yes.
Paul then looked at the girl.
The forest fell silent.
It didn't reject her.
It didn't call her.
—What's your name? Paul asked.
The girl hesitated for a moment.
—Ana.
Paul felt something move deep beneath the roots.
Not light.
Not the moon.
Earth.
He said nothing.
He just stepped back, letting the forest decide.
Alex stayed by her side.
For the first time, Paul saw something new in his gaze.
Not vision.
Choice.