The wind carried the sound of the crowd long after the final whistle blew. Cobi Rivers stood under the bright lights of the Willowridge High football field, sweat tracing down his jaw, heart still racing from the game‐winning touchdown. His friends swarmed him, helmets raised, voices chanting his name like a drumbeat echoing through autumn air. He smiled, at least on the outside.Tonight, he had everything—records, cheers, the world endless. But below the noise was something quieter. It started days ago. A whisper. Not a hallucination, not quite a thought."Cobi… come find me."He hadn't told anyone. Not his coach, not his grandma, not even Jace. Especially not Jace. His little brother already had enough nightmares since their parents left town, and Gran was too tired these days to worry about one more thing. So Cobi pretended the voice wasn't real. For a while.Now, standing among laughter and camera flashes, he heard it again—clearer this time, stronger."The forest remembers, Cobi. Don't forget."The words were inside his chest like someone whispering through his heartbeat. His eyes caught the edge of the tree line beyond the field, where the stadium lights faded into darkness. The woods had always been off-limits—too thick, too old. The kind of place that made you feel watched, even when nothing was there.He blinked hard and turned away. Teammates clapped his shoulder, pulling him into a photo. He tried to smile for the camera, but something in him was already walking toward the trees.The house was silent when he got home. Replays of the game flickered on a muted TV, casting a pale blue light across the living room. Cobi called out for his grandma. No answer. A dish still steamed on the kitchen table, the smell of soup mixing with wilted flowers by the window."Gran?"Then came the knock. Not on the door—in his head."You're close. You've always been close."His breath caught. The air shifted; the room seemed to stretch, as if it were breathing. He staggered back, hand pressing against the wall, his pulse syncing to the whisper's rhythm. He glanced toward the hallway where the front door stood half‐open, letting in the cold night air. The trees beyond swayed in slow unison, branches bending toward him as if beckoning."Touch the heart. Remember what you are."He didn't remember leaving, but before he could think, he was moving out the door, down the steps, into the dark.The forest swallowed him whole. Moonlight pierced through cracks in the canopy, thin and silver. The air tasted different here—richer. Every sound was magnified: the crunch of leaves, his breath, his blood. Then he saw it.A clearing. At its center, a plant glowed faintly, pulsing like a heartbeat. Thirteen petals circling a stem that shimmered with dew. The air hummed around it, every vibration whispering his name."It's been so long… vessel."He reached out. The moment his fingers brushed the petals, they melted into light and scattered like dust caught in the wind. The whisper stopped.Silence.Cobi stumbled back, eyes wide, chest burning. Then—the distant wail of sirens.The light in the clearing dimmed until only moonlight remained. He turned and ran home.The door was still open when he arrived, but the house wasn't quiet anymore. Cobi froze at the threshold.His grandmother lay motionless on the floor.
And Jace—his little brother—was gone.