Evening dew turned into a thin mist as Anoby arrived at the edge of the Dark Forest with Hina. The mist rolled like a gray curtain, covering the trail as if inviting both dreams and fears. Anoby held a bronze lantern, its flame dancing slowly among the towering trees. Hina, now eleven years old—her white hair shoulder-length, her voice deeper yet still childlike—followed behind with a different spirit: no longer a startled little girl, but a companion who stepped with resolve.
They followed the forest corridor, where tree roots were embedded like the veins of darkness. Dark-barked trees blocked the moonlight so that only a pale beam reflected on the leaves. The sound of snapping twigs, creaking night insects, and the mourning wind formed the rhythm of their journey. Anoby walked silently, eyes covered by a black cloth, sensing the surroundings with other senses—the chill breeze carrying the scent of wet earth, the sound of dripping water from brittle branches.
"Don't stray from the lantern," Hina whispered softly as the light at the end of the path faded further. Though only eleven, her body was now lithe and strong; training at the village hall while collecting Green Araklin and Blood Crystals had forged her muscles. Her slender figure; once-brighter skin now dulled from nightly travels. Her once cheerful voice now held a cautious tone—a sign she had come to understand the dangers lurking around.
Step by step, they entered a space that felt tightly closed. The lantern's light formed a small circle, breaking the darkness around them. Shadows of trees and roots stretched, creating figures that seemed to dance on the dense walls.
Whispers of a Name Scattered
As they moved deeper into the forest floor, suddenly a breath of wind among the branches cried a soft word:
"Anoby…"
Hina froze, turning to Anoby. Her large eyes caught the lantern's flicker, her face tense. "That… was that your name?" she asked faintly.
Anoby steadied his heartbeat, lowering a hand to the blindfold. He merely nodded slightly, as if allowing the name to be used. From that moment, Hina knew the name for him: Anoby.
A Hidden Door Behind Moss
They did not immediately find a lit path. Thick roots sprawled across the ground like giant fins. The distant trickle of a stream became the only clue that water still flowed—a sign of life though night reigned. Anoby moved beside a large tree trunk, his right hand touching its rough bark; he felt a strange vibration at his fingertips: a soft signal, as if reminding him of a black stone carving at the edge of Uthala Forest.
"This is it," Anoby murmured in his heart, silent yet firm. For a moment, he recalled a similar carving: a cracked circle, one side pierced by a sharp line. That memory vanished in a blink, replaced by the sigh of wind in the leaves.
Hina turned. "You… know what to do?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Anoby simply nodded, then crouched down, shifting thick moss clinging to the root's base. Beneath it lay a small carving on a half-buried stone: a cracked circle with a tiny arrow pointing downward. Hina approached, her face paling, her fingers tapping the stone's surface.
"This… is the entrance?" she whispered.
Anoby pressed the carving with a firm palm. The ground trembled gently, roots seeming to retreat to open a gap wide enough for them to crawl through. The scraping earth, cracking stone, and cold air created a tense silent symphony.
They bent low, slipping into the narrow passage. In an instant, the open space they once stood on vanished, replaced by a stone corridor, cold and slick like wet. The tunnel's end was consumed by total darkness, only Anoby's lantern light to guide them.
First Season at the Heart of Darkness
At first, Anoby and Hina walked the corridor for hours without pause. The lantern glowed dimly, reflecting off walls soaked in thick moisture. The corridor's end grew darker, nearly swallowing the light. Hina repeatedly steadied her steps; her feet once light now ached. Hunger and thirst arose, but whenever Hina spoke of resting, Anoby signaled for them to keep moving. His instincts told him time would press them—the longer they stayed still, the further Moonlight Light would drift.
After about a full day of walking—enough to bring a new feeling to their bodies—they arrived at a circular cave chamber, perhaps ten steps in diameter. At its center was a wide basin filled with water reflecting their images. The cave walls were lined with moon mushrooms—natural lamps emitting bluish white light. The mushroom glow pierced softly, offering ease to Anoby's blindfolded eyes, as if warning that their rest here would be briefer than it seemed.
Hina took a small bottle of water from her pouch—reserving just a bit for safety. She poured it into Anoby's palm, then helped him drink. "Let's just rest a bit," she said quietly. Anoby's body responded reflexively; though memories were few, he knew he needed water before continuing.
They used the moon mushrooms for warmth, eating some. Hina closed her eyes briefly, as if looking inward. Her hair, once shoulder-length, had grown to neck-length—a sign that nearly a year had passed since their journey into the Dark Forest began. Her voice, once cheerful, now had the crispness of adolescence—her large eyes sometimes gazed at Anoby with worry that they had come too far unprepared. Yet one thing never changed: Hina's resolve to accompany Anoby.
In the cave corridor, Hina opened a small scroll brought from the village, page after page of ancient guidance about the Dark Forest. The ink had faded, but the words remained readable: "Moonlight appears from the lowest root, glowing only if the bearer's heart is worthy of enduring the dark." The last two words made Hina touch her chest—the bearer's heart is worthy of enduring the dark. She looked at the softly snoring Anoby, locked in his sleep; she knew their journey was not over, and the power of light required greater courage than merely holding a lantern.
Battle in the Shadowed Tunnel
While Hina slept, Anoby had a dream that made his blindfold quiver. He saw a black shadow watching him from behind a hollow tree, its eyes resembling the cracked circle from the stone carving. It seemed the shadow creature—the one called the Green Elder—was stalking them in this tunnel. Anoby awoke, breath heavy, but no sound followed. In the darkness, he sensed something crawling near his feet: a jagged grin, a red gleam on rough skin.
Out of nowhere, three Tregarah—giant insects soaked in darkness—attacked again. This time, the cave tunnel limited movement. Anoby quickly raised the lantern higher, its light forcing the shadows to retreat. The soft glow of moon mushrooms briefly made the tunnel seem to stagger in dance. The first Tregarah lunged, its black claw flying at Anoby. Without hesitation, Anoby turned his foot, kicking the Tregarah's leg until it crashed to the floor; its shell shattered like black shards. The second Tregarah struck from behind, but Hina had awoken and drew a small knife she always carried—a flash of it sliced the air, cracking the insect's shell. The last Tregarah encased them, moving its faint claw, but Anoby reflected the lantern light into its eyes, causing it to shriek and shrink back into a wall crevice.
Tregarah blood dripping onto the cave floor shimmered red, resembling the surface of Blood Crystals Anoby once gathered. For a moment, he saw a flash: blood splashing the wall, forming a cracked circle pattern. That faint memory made him reach into his pouch for moss—bits of Green Araklin moss. He scattered it atop a cracked moon mushroom cap, witnessing a fusion glow: the moon mushroom flared gently, then dimmed again.
Hina brushed off blood and dust from her clothes, breathing hard. "I don't know how many times we've faced this," she muttered softly. "But we can't go back."
Anoby nodded, his body trembling slightly—only a subtle movement, but it showed that behind the blindfold, his eyes were trying to glimpse past memories. He felt the emptiness in his chest shift; a kind of urge for the Moonlight to grow stronger, not just as an outer glow, but a language capable of carving memory.
After the brief battle, the cave tunnel grew quiet again. Only their steady breathing and the lingering drip of moisture from tiny stalactites remained. Hina placed a hand on Anoby's shoulder. "We must keep going," she said with a more mature tone—as if carrying a responsibility not just as a guide, but as a comrade beginning to understand the meaning of darkness and light.
Year 5: A Small Light at the Forgotten Hall
They retraced their steps back to the first tunnel they encountered, then took the path toward the root gap that led them into the forest. Upon exit, Anoby looked at the soft surface of leaves welcoming the morning mist. The dusk light from before had changed into the early dry season of the rainy months: the mist rolled thinner, the foliage denser, yet bird songs were muffled by the roar of wind.
Hina, now about fifteen years old—her face showing adolescent contours, fuller lips, and firmer shoulders—counted the seasons they had passed: five years had gone since entering the Dark Forest. She carried a soft cord she once wove to hold Anoby's lantern when the wind blew too hard. Her fingertips had hardened by reality: she was now trained to navigate nine tunnels and shadowed gates without hesitation.
When they arrived at the forgotten hall—a wooden structure they once left behind, now covered in green moss and silvery lichen—Anoby placed the lantern on the weathered wooden table. The bronze glow lit the interior once dim. In a corner, Hina arranged the supplies she had gathered: a bundle of dried moon mushrooms, a few moss root cuttings, and a packet of map papers where they had marked their old trails.
In the center of the hall, Anoby carved a number into the wooden floor—"5"—marking that they had completed their first five years in this dark corridor. Hina watched with teary eyes; she touched the number with her fingertip. "Half a decade," she murmured, her voice slightly shaking. "Time passes so quickly, but the shadows still chase us."
Anoby nodded, feeling his breath settle. Though the journey was still long—95 years remained—there was a new instinct: do not let the shadow tunnels consume their memories. He reached for the blindfold and felt it as if it was no longer just a shield, but a sign that he wasn't yet ready to face full reality.
Hina took a deep breath. "All that we've been through… do you remember anything?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Anoby simply patted Hina's shoulder, as if assuring her that memory comes slowly—not in complete recollection, but in tiny pebbles of truth slowly reassembling identity.
Gate to the Second Corridor
A few days after marking the "5," they were ready to enter the next dark corridor. Hina, now thinking of ways to craft extra protection—a small charm made of Green Araklin roots and pieces of old banyan tree root—guided Anoby to the eastern side of the hall. There, a new crevice had appeared—a stone crack unseen until their last moon mushroom dimmed. The crack was covered with long roots, hanging like a natural rope bridge.
They stepped into it together, tracing a path that narrowed and dove deeper into the earth's body. The wind in the corridor carried a different air: no longer cold mist, but humid breath that felt cool on the skin. Hina gripped her charm, as if reinforcing the belief that no matter how deep the darkness, there is a light force rooted in the soil of Rhumal village.
Before entering, Anoby looked deeply at Hina—two beings bound by fate not yet fully revealed. "Thank you for staying," he whispered, though the words were hard to speak from lips that couldn't recall their own name.
Hina gave a faint smile. "You're the one who carries the light."
So, together, they descended into the yawning corridor, continuing their journey to the next stage, where every bond of the past sought to recall the truth buried deep.
Here ends Chapter 5: five years have passed, Hina has grown from an eleven-year-old girl into a resilient fifteen-year-old young woman, and Anoby is slowly uncovering the faint voice of his memories within the darkness. Ninety-five years remain to unravel the mystery of the Duskwither Forest, and every next step must follow the trail of light that once rose in the small village of Rhumal.