1. The Run Toward the Edge of the World
The wind battered Sophia's face like a thousand sharp knives as she ran, gasping, stumbling through snow that clawed at her ankles. Her lungs burned. Her heartbeat thrashed wildly, out of rhythm with her steps. Every breath felt like it might shatter something inside her chest. Ilie held her hand tightly, half pulling her along. Mirela kept pace behind them with shocking speed for someone her age, her staff cutting lines in the snow like dark strokes of ink.
Behind them, the forest groaned—alive, stirring, watching.
She didn't dare look back. Every instinct screamed that if she did, she wouldn't be able to tear her gaze away again.
"Sophia!" Ilie shouted above the roaring wind. "Look at me! Not behind you!"
She nodded, trying to keep her eyes locked on the path. The wooden box clutched in her coat thumped against her ribs with every frantic step.
Mirela yelled from behind, "The veil is thin today! It knows we walk toward the truth!"
"Swell!" Ilie barked. "You couldn't have mentioned that sooner?!"
"It wouldn't have mattered!"
Sophia tripped on a rock hidden under snow and nearly face-planted, but Ilie caught her, pulling her up without slowing.
"Don't stop," he said through clenched teeth. "This is the one place it doesn't want you to reach."
"Why?" Sophia cried.
"Because the dead always speak near the cliffs."
Sophia's chest tightened. "I thought you said the dead—"
"I said The Caller mimics the dead," Mirela cut in sharply. "I didn't say the dead are silent."
The forest moaned again, deeper this time. The sound vibrated through the ground, through the air, through her bones. Sophia almost screamed.
But they kept running.
The trail grew steeper. Snow grew thinner as wind scraped it away, exposing sharp stones beneath their feet. The sky overhead turned darker: clouds gathering, thickening, churning with unnatural speed.
By the time they crested the final ridge, Sophia tasted blood in her mouth from the cold tearing at her lips.
Then she saw them.
The cliffs.
They rose before her like the spine of a colossal beast — jagged, ancient, a wall of stone carved by centuries of wind. At the edge, the valley opened below in a sweeping, dizzying drop, a world of swirling mist and shadow. Far beneath, rivers cut through the earth like silver wounds.
But it wasn't the beauty that froze her where she stood.
It was the feeling.
Something was here.
Watching.
Waiting.
Breathing.
Sophia staggered backward, trembling.
"What… is this place?"
Ilie released her hand slowly. "This is where the truth starts."
Mirela stepped forward. "And where lies end."
2. The Scar in Her Memory
The wind at the cliff's edge was brutal, as if the world itself were exhaling. Snow lifted off the ground in long, ghostly trails that danced into the abyss. The mist below swirled in slow spirals, forming shapes that dissolved as quickly as they appeared.
Sophia hugged her coat tighter. "You said my mother… didn't die in a hospital."
Mirela nodded, her white hair whipping wildly in the wind. "You were told a softer story. A merciful lie."
"Why?" Sophia whispered, though she already sensed the answer.
"To protect you," Ilie said quietly.
Sophia felt a sudden ache—sharp, piercing, unfair. "From what?"
Mirela pointed with her staff toward a narrow outcrop of rock—an unnervingly still shelf near the cliff's edge, where the wind seemed to bend around an invisible shape.
"From the kind of truth that stains a life forever."
Sophia looked at the outcrop, dread circling her like a vulture.
"I'm not a child," she said. "I deserve to know."
Mirela exhaled sharply. "Very well."
She walked slowly toward the cliff's edge. Ilie followed. Sophia took a hesitant step, then another, until the three of them stood at the precipice.
"This place," Mirela said, "has many names. But the oldest is simply The Listening Cliffs. A thousand years ago, people came here to speak with spirits who had not yet crossed the veil."
Sophia swallowed, throat tight. "Is that what we're doing?"
"No," Mirela said. "We are here because your mother crossed the veil in a way that left a scar."
Sophia's breath hitched. "I don't understand."
Ilie glanced at Mirela, then at Sophia, eyes heavy with sorrow.
"You were sixteen, da?" he said softly. "When she died."
Sophia nodded slowly. "Yes. I remember. I was at the hospital. She was—"
"No," Mirela interrupted gently. "You were told you were at a hospital."
Sophia's heart slammed painfully.
Ilie sighed. "You were here."
Sophia stared. "What?"
Mirela stepped closer. "Your mother came to Muntenia before she died. She came to seek help. She came to stop the nightmares she saw in you."
"In me?" Sophia whispered.
"Yes. You were already dreaming of something ancient. Something that called your name as a child."
Sophia shook her head violently. "No. No, I didn't— I don't remember—"
Mirela raised a hand. "The mind protects itself. Yours sealed the memory behind a wall."
Ilie pointed toward the outcrop.
"She came here with you. You were unconscious when they carried you back."
Sophia staggered backward. "Carried me—?"
"You fainted." Mirela's voice softened. "And your mother… she didn't."
"What happened to her?" Sophia asked, voice barely a whisper.
Mirela met her gaze.
"The Caller touched her mind. And she jumped."
Sophia didn't breathe.
Everything inside her hollowed out, collapsing like a rotted beam under weight.
"No," she said. "No. I would remember that."
"You did," Mirela whispered. "But the memory was too heavy. So you buried it."
Sophia shook her head harder, teeth chattering. "Why would The Caller… why would it go after her? Why her?"
"Because," Mirela said, "she tried to take you away from it. She tried to break its hold."
Sophia felt her knees buckle. Ilie reached for her, but she stepped away from him, trembling, furious, sick.
"My mother died because of this thing?"
Mirela nodded once.
Sophia felt something inside her twist, snap, change.
Rage.
Cold and lethal.
It ignited like a match struck in darkness.
"Then I want it dead," she whispered.
The wind seemed to hear her — it paused, holding the breath of the world still for one terrifying second.
Then a voice drifted upward from the abyss.
Not her mother.
Not a mimic.
A whisper layered with static and bone and wind:
"Sophiaaa…"
Everything went silent.
Even Mirela froze.
"That," Mirela breathed, "is its true voice again."
Sophia lifted her chin. Her hands trembled, but her heart felt strangely steady.
"I'm not running anymore."
3. The Grave of the Unremembered
Mirela led them to the outcrop — a stretch of rock barely wider than a table, flat and cold as iron. The wind died as they stepped onto it, though everywhere else it still raged.
As if the air around this place had chosen stillness.
"This is it," Mirela said. "This is where your mother's spirit lingers."
Sophia felt a sting of pain behind her sternum.
"She… she's here?"
"Yes," Mirela replied. "But not in the way you expect."
Sophia stepped forward, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "Can I talk to her?"
Ilie grabbed her arm quickly. "No. Don't call for her."
"But why?"
"Because The Caller listens too," Mirela said. "It can twist any voice you seek."
Sophia froze. The wooden box under her coat suddenly felt hot against her skin.
"So what do I do?"
Mirela gestured for her to kneel.
Sophia hesitated, then lowered herself onto the stone. The cold seeped instantly through her clothes.
"Close your eyes," Mirela said softly. "And listen."
Sophia shut her eyes.
At first there was nothing but the faint howl of distant wind.
Then…
A whisper.
Not The Caller.
Not her mother.
Something fragile.Something fractured.Something weak — like the echo of a memory.
Sophia…
She gasped, tears spilling down her cheeks.
"Mom—?"
"No," Mirela snapped. "Not her. A fragment of her. A memory imprinted in this place. It cannot answer you. It cannot hear you. It is only a shadow of who she was."
Sophia sobbed harder. She had imagined a reunion. A conversation. Closure.
Not this.
Mirela put a hand on her shoulder. "I am sorry, child. But fragments are all that remains here."
Sophia wiped her face.
"Then why bring me? Why make me listen to this?"
"Because you need to understand what The Caller did to her. What it wants to do to you."
Sophia's grief sharpened into anger again. "Tell me everything."
Mirela nodded.
"Your mother first heard The Caller when she was a child," Mirela said. "Just as you did. She never told anyone. But she grew up afraid of her own dreams. When she saw the same fear in you, she came here — desperate, terrified, begging for answers."
Sophia clenched her fists.
"What did you tell her?"
"The truth." Mirela's voice cracked. "That The Caller chooses a bloodline. It follows a family through generations. It chose your grandmother. Then your mother. Now you."
Sophia's breath stopped.
"A blood curse," she whispered.
Mirela nodded.
"She wanted to break it. To save you. But the price demanded was too high."
"What price?"
Mirela hesitated. Ilie looked away.
Sophia's heart sank. "Tell me."
Mirela's eyes glistened.
"Her life."
Sophia's voice trembled. "You told her to kill herself?"
"No," Mirela said quickly. "No, child. Never. The Caller demanded it. The Caller cornered her at the edge of this cliff. It filled her mind with every fear she ever had. Every guilt. Every memory of you. It convinced her that her death was the only way to save you."
Sophia let out a raw, broken cry.
Mirela gripped her shoulders. "She did not kill herself. She was pushed by a force she never stood a chance against."
Sophia sobbed, the pain so deep it felt like her bones were splintering.
"Then I want to break this curse," Sophia whispered. "No matter the cost."
Mirela exhaled. "Then you must face The Caller where it lives."
Ilie stiffened. "Mirela— no."
"Yes," she said firmly. "There is no other way."
Sophia wiped her tears. "Where does it live?"
Mirela pointed behind them.
Toward the forest.
Toward the darkness.
Toward the place where the trees bowed inward like kneeling giants.
"In the Hollow Woods," Mirela said. "Where the Veil is thinnest. Where the dead whisper. Where The Caller was born."
Sophia's pulse thudded. "Then I'll go there."
Ilie stepped in front of her. "You won't. Not alone."
Sophia looked at him. "You can't stop me."
Ilie held her gaze. "I'm not trying to stop you. I'm saying I'm coming with you."
Sophia felt warmth bloom in her chest at the promise. Lupin barked once, as if agreeing.
Mirela nodded solemnly. "Then prepare yourselves. For in the Hollow Woods… the fourth rule reveals itself."
Sophia swallowed. "You said I would learn it when it shows me its true voice."
"Yes," Mirela whispered. "And once you learn it, there is no turning back."
Sophia felt the wooden box pulse against her chest.
She nodded. "Then teach me."
4. The Box of Three Nights
Mirela led them away from the cliff's edge, back toward a clearing where the wind was mercifully less violent. The sun hadn't risen fully; instead, the sky remained suspended between night and dawn, stuck in an unsettling half-light.
"Open the box," Mirela said.
Sophia hesitated — she felt heat radiating from it, as if something alive slept inside.
But she obeyed.
Inside lay a small object wrapped in black cloth. She lifted it carefully and unwrapped it.
A charm.
A pendant carved out of bone, shaped like an eye with three lines descending like tears. It pulsed faintly with warmth the moment her fingers touched it.
"What is it?" she whispered.
"A watcher's charm," Mirela said. "Old as the first settlers. It will protect you for three nights. But only if you obey its rules."
"More rules," Ilie muttered.
"Yes," Mirela said. "Everything that keeps you alive has rules."
Sophia hung the charm around her neck. It settled against her chest like ice melting on skin.
"What are the rules?" she asked.
Mirela raised her staff.
"One: Never remove the charm during the night.Two: Never sleep in total darkness. Not even for a moment.Three: Never look at your reflection after sunset."
Sophia blinked. "Why the last one?"
Mirela gave her a long, haunted stare.
"Because The Caller will start using your face next."
Sophia's stomach turned.
Ilie touched the knife on his belt. "And if it does?"
"You run," Mirela said. "You run until you reach the Hollow Woods."
Sophia frowned. "I thought the woods were dangerous."
"They are," Mirela said. "But by the time it uses your face, everywhere is dangerous."
Sophia shivered.
Mirela pressed something else into her hand — a small packet of black powder wrapped in thin paper.
"What is this?"
"A veil-breaking dust."
"What does it do?"
"When the time comes," Mirela whispered, "you will know."
Sophia didn't argue.
5. The Promise of Revenge
They began walking back down from the cliffs, slower this time, the path treacherous with loose stones hidden beneath the snow. The world below them felt distant, suspended in haze. The forest spread like a dark ocean across the land — vast, cold, unknowable.
Sophia walked between Ilie and Lupin, the charm warm against her chest.
Her mother's fragmented whisper still echoed faintly in her mind. Not a ghost. Not a voice. Just a memory, trapped in a place where the living and dead brushed shoulders.
It wasn't enough.
She wanted more.
She wanted truth. All of it.
She wanted justice.
She wanted revenge.
"Ilie," she said quietly. "If we go into the Hollow Woods… can we kill The Caller?"
Ilie took a long time to answer.
Finally:
"If it bleeds," he said softly, "we can kill it."
"And if it doesn't?"
"Then we make it hurt."
Sophia nodded, jaw set.
Good enough.
6. The Shadow That Followed
As they descended the mountain path, the forest below shifted strangely. The line between shadow and light blurred. Branches swayed even when the wind died.
Mirela watched the treeline with a grim expression.
"It grows restless," she said. "It knows we have seen the truth."
Sophia felt her pulse quicken. "Does it know we're coming for it?"
"Yes."
"Does that help us?"
"No."
Sophia swallowed.
Ilie touched her back gently. "You're shaking."
"I'm fine."
"You're terrified," he corrected.
"So are you."
He gave a small, humorless smile. "Fair."
Lupin stopped suddenly, ears perked, growling low.
"Something's watching us," Ilie whispered.
Mirela nodded. "It always watches."
Sophia exhaled slowly. "Then let it watch. Because I'm coming for it."
Mirela turned to her sharply.
"Be careful, child," she warned. "Hatred makes you brave… but it also makes you blind."
"I'm not blind," Sophia said firmly. "Not anymore."
Mirela didn't argue.
7. Nightfall's Breath
They reached the forest edge just as dusk began to claim the sky. The sun dipped behind the mountains, bleeding orange into deep blue. Shadows lengthened, stretching like grasping fingers across the snow.
Mirela stopped.
"This is where I leave you," she said.
Sophia blinked. "You're not coming?"
"I cannot," Mirela said quietly. "The Caller knows my scent. It would sense me long before you reached the Hollow Woods. You must go with Ilie and the wolf."
Sophia's heart twisted.
"Will we see you again?"
Mirela hesitated.
"Perhaps," she said. "If you survive."
Not comforting.
Sophia stepped forward. "Mirela… thank you."
The old woman touched her cheek gently.
"Do not thank me yet," she whispered. "Not until you have seen the fourth rule."
Sophia's throat tightened. "What is it? Truly?"
Mirela leaned close.
"It is the rule that decides whether you live or die."
Sophia felt her breath catch.
"And you will learn it," Mirela said, "when The Caller speaks using your mother's final breath."
Sophia went cold.
Ilie grabbed her arm. "We need to move."
Mirela stepped back, lifting her staff.
"May the veil hold," she whispered.
Then she turned and walked into the fading light, her figure growing smaller and smaller against the snow, until she disappeared.
Sophia stared after her.
Ilie tugged her lightly. "Come on."
Sophia nodded.
They stepped into the forest.
The moment they crossed the treeline, the temperature plunged.
The light dimmed unnaturally.
The silence thickened.
And far behind them — echoing across the cliffs, rising from the valley like a chorus pulled through cracked stone —
came a single whisper.
Slow.Deep.Almost amused.
"Sooophia…"
Sophia stiffened.
Ilie gripped her hand tighter.
Lupin growled, low and lethal.
And they walked deeper into the darkness.
Toward the Hollow Woods.Toward the creature that ruined her past.Toward the truth.
Toward the fourth rule.