Mara stayed at the altar long after the figure in the shadows had vanished, her fingers tracing the carved symbols again and again. The forest around her was eerily still, as if the trees themselves were holding their breath. She thought she heard faint whispers, carried on the wind, voices that were not entirely human, yet strangely familiar. Her heart tightened, a mixture of fear and anticipation threading through her veins.
Then, without warning, the pendant around her neck flared brighter, casting long, sharp shadows across the clearing. Mara flinched, her eyes scanning the trees. Something was moving—silent, deliberate, almost imperceptible. A low rustle came from the far edge of the clearing, and she caught a glimpse of silver eyes glinting from the darkness.
"You shouldn't have come alone," a voice said, closer now, smooth and chilling.
Mara tightened her grip on the dagger at her belt. "I'm not afraid," she said, though her voice trembled slightly. "I have a duty. I made an oath."
The figure stepped forward from the shadows, revealing itself fully this time. Cloaked in black that seemed to absorb the moonlight, its face was partially hidden, but those eyes—shimmering like liquid silver—never wavered from her. The forest seemed to lean closer, the branches twisting as if to watch the encounter.
"Oaths are dangerous," the figure murmured, circling her slowly. "They bind more than the one who swears. They bind the world itself."
Mara lifted her chin. "I know what I swore. I will honor it, whatever it costs me."
A pause, then a soft laugh, like wind through dry leaves. "Bold. Foolish. Perhaps both." The figure raised a hand, pointing toward the heart of the forest. "What you seek is not here. You must go deeper. Only there will the truth of your oath be revealed."
Mara hesitated, the cold night pressing against her skin. But the pendant pulsed again, steady and insistent, as if confirming the figure's words. She had no choice. She had to move forward, even if it meant venturing into the unknown, even if it meant facing dangers she could not yet imagine.
Step by step, she followed the path the figure had indicated, deeper into the forest. The trees grew taller, their canopies so thick that the moonlight barely reached the ground. Shadows pooled around her feet, and every sound—the snapping of a twig, the rustle of leaves—made her flinch. Yet with each step, a strange clarity settled over her. The pendant's light illuminated faint symbols carved into the bark of certain trees, guiding her way, almost like a map written in the language of the stars.
And then she heard it—a soft, echoing chant, carried on the wind, calling her name. Mara's pulse quickened. She was not walking blindly. Someone—or something—was waiting for her.
Her resolve hardened. Whatever lay ahead, whatever trials awaited, she would face them. The oath she had sworn was not just words; it was a path she could not abandon.
And beneath the silent stars, Mara stepped into the heart of the unknown.