Fiona's heart pounded. The voice that whispered her name was soft yet almost familiar. But it carried something special beneath it, like the sea had learned to speak.
She looked around, grasping the book to her chest. "Who's there?" she said while started to get afraid
Yet there's no answer. Only the rustling leaves and the loud crash of waves echoed there.
Her gaze fell back to the open page. More words were starts appearing one by one, glowing faintly in the fading light.
"She looks toward the ocean, unaware that it looks back."
She felt a cold shiver run down her spine. She wanted to run — to go back home, to forget this place, this book — but something deep inside whispered, "Stay."
It was the same voice she'd heard.
She knelt beside the roots of the old tree, staring at the ink as it began to form a drawing — a sketch of the cliff she was standing on.
At the edge of the sketch stood a girl… and behind her, in the shadow of the waves, was a figure.
Fiona blinked.
The figure in the drawing raised its hand.
And somewhere below, beneath the crashing sea, something moved.
The book trembled in her grip. The ink began to flow faster, spreading up her fingers like thin rivers of light. She tried to drop it — but her hands wouldn't obey.
"What are you?" she gasped.
A voice answered from the book — this time clearly, softly:
"The very thing you seek, I seek the same."
Fiona's eyes widened. "I'm not searching for anything!"
"Then why do your footsteps echo in this forgotten void?" the voice asked.
Her breath caught. She had no answer. Not for the book, not even for herself.
Before she could speak, the ink spread across her arms, wrapping her in a cold shimmer. The ocean below began to glow — the same silver light reflecting in the water.
"Don't fight it," the voice murmured.
"You opened me. Now, let me show you what you've forgotten."
The wind roared. The book shone brighter.
And in a blink — Fiona was gone.
The only sound left was the restless sea and the whisper of turning pages under the old tree.