The forest north of the village was older than the rest.
The trees didn't just grow, they leaned, as if listening. Bark gnarled into faces if you looked too long. Roots crisscrossed the dirt like veins in a slumbering body. And the air? It hummed. Low. Faint. Like a warning.
Ember walked ahead, her boots silent despite the underbrush. Ash followed, the parchment map tucked into his coat, though they hadn't needed it, she knew the way.
"You've been here before," he said.
She didn't turn. "Once. Years ago."
"Why come back now?"
"You," she said simply.
That shut him up for a while.
They moved quietly, occasionally pausing when the hum in the air thickened. At one point, Ash saw a tree with its trunk split, not by lightning or age, but from within, as though something had grown and clawed its way out.
Ember didn't comment on it. Neither did he.
