Arash stepped beyond the clearing, following the narrow path that vanished into the deeper part of the forest.
The sunlight grew weaker.
The air colder.The silence heavier.
Each step felt like walking into a memory that wasn't his.
The branches above twisted together, blocking the sky.
Only thin beams of light slipped through, flickering like distant stars.
Arash felt a ripple of unease.
Not fear but the weight of something hidden.
As he walked, he noticed the trees around him had changed.
Their bark was darker, their branches longer, their shadows stretched like fingers across the ground.
The forest felt alive… and aware of him.
A sudden crunch behind him made him pause.
He turned.Nothing.Only darkness shifting between the trees.
Arash swallowed and whispered to himself,
It's only the forest… just the forest.
But deep inside, he knew it was more.
He walked on.Minutes passed.Or maybe hours.
Time didn't move normally here.
Finally, he reached a place where the trees opened into another clearing - but unlike the bright one before, this space was dim, almost twilight-like, even though it was still day.
In the center stood a tall wooden post.
Carved into it were markings – symbols and shapes he didn't recognize.Some looked ancient.Some looked like warnings.
But one mark caught his eye:
A single line curving downward… like a falling river.
Arash felt something in his chest tighten.
The old man's words returned:
Life is a river…
and every river has its shadows.
He stepped closer.
The wood was cold under his fingertips.
Strangely cold.
As he traced the carved river symbol, a sudden whisper brushed past his ear–Soft.Fragile.Almost human.
Arash spun around.
A shadow moved at the edge of the clearing.
Not shaped like an animal.
Not shaped like a person.
But something in between.
It didn't walk.It slid… like mist with intention.
Arash's breath froze.
The shadow paused, watching him.
Then—it dissolved into the darkness, as if swallowed by the forest itself.Arash took a trembling breath.
He wasn't imagining it.He wasn't dreaming.
This part of the forest held memories, echoes, and pieces of the past that had never been explained.
But he wasn't afraid anymore.
Instead, he whispered:
If this is the road you walked, old man…
I will walk it too.
The trees rustled softly, almost approvingly.
Arash stood tall and faced the path ahead — the deeper darkness waiting for him.He didn't know what he would find.
But he knew one thing:
The shadows here were not meant to harm him.
They were meant to teach him.
And he was ready to learn.
Arash stepped forward, deeper into the dim clearing, letting the chill of the air settle over his skin.
The forest no longer felt like trees and branches—it felt like a presence watching, waiting, listening.
For a moment, nothing moved.
Then—Tap… tap… tap…
Soft footsteps echoed from somewhere behind him.
He turned sharply.Again… nothing.
Only the swaying silhouettes of trees and long shadows stretching like silent watchers.
A cold whisper brushed across the back of his neck.
Not wind.Not imagination. A whisper of words.
But too faint to understand.
Arash steadied his breathing.
The old man had spoken of this path–
The road of truths hidden in silence.
He finally understood.
The forest was not trying to trap him.
It was trying to speak to him.
Arash closed his eyes.
The footsteps began again.
Tap… tap… tap…Not approaching.
Not leaving.Circling.
Almost like the steps of someone who did not wish to be seen but desperately wished to be heard.
Arash whispered softly,
Who are you? Silence.
Then, suddenly—
A shape emerged between two ancient trees.
A shadow.
Human-like in height, but its edges flickered like a flame in the wind.
It did not attack.
It simply stood there, trembling like a memory trying to hold its form.
Arash took a careful step forward.
The shadow responded with a whisper, clearer this time:
Do… you… seek… truth?
Arash's heart stopped for a beat.
He nodded.The shadow flickered.
Its voice came again—slow, broken, as if each word cost it effort:
Truth… has a cost.
Arash swallowed.What cost?
The shadow lifted one arm—thin, wavering—
and pointed deeper into the forest.
Beyond the clearing, the path descended slightly.
Mist swirled thickly across the ground, hiding whatever lay ahead.
The shadow's voice trembled:
To know… you must remember.
Remember what? Arash asked.
The shadow didn't answer.
Instead, it extended its hand.
Not to attack.But offering.
Arash hesitated only a moment.
Then— he reached out.
His fingers touched the shadow.
A sharp jolt ran through him.
Images burst into his mind—
a river glowing under moonlight.a broken wooden bridge
a child crying alone.
the old man standing somewhere far away.and a door… a door covered in carvings of rivers
Arash staggered back, gasping.
The shadow shivered violently, losing shape.
Before fading completely, it whispered one last message:
You… have forgotten… too much.
Then it vanished—like smoke blown out by the wind.
Arash stood shaking, his breathing rough, his thoughts scattered.
Forgotten?What had he forgotten?
What truth was tied to him?
The forest felt heavier now.
Not threatening—
but filled with answers waiting to be uncovered.
Arash clenched his fists and steadied himself.
Whatever waited deeper in the mist…
he would face it.
He stepped toward the descending path.
Toward the memory he never knew he had lost.
Toward the truth the old man had hinted at…
And the forest whispered again—
this time not as footsteps,
but as a quiet warning carried through the leaves:
Be ready.