"But you're not… like me."
"No," she said again, without cruelty. Then she added, "But I am with you."
He didn't know what that meant, but he never asked again. It was enough.
The world outside their woods began to change, though Jack didn't notice at first. Chickens were born with
too many toes. One of the neighbor's goats gave birth to a kid that bleated like a flute. Crows circled above
the village more often, and a fox was found gutted on the church steps with a braid of dried reeds tied
around its tail.
Jack overheard the adults whispering. They spoke of omens. Of old things stirring. Of the land turning
upside down.
He felt it too. The wind no longer smelled the same. Rain left patterns on the glass that resembled runes.
The fire in their hearth popped with odd timing—once exactly when he said Eluna's name aloud.
One evening, Jack stood outside the cottage long after dark, staring up at the stars. Eluna appeared beside
him without a sound.
"I saw something today," he said. "In the creek. A face. Like mine. But older. It smiled wrong."
Eluna said nothing for a long time.
"Sometimes," she said at last, "the world shows you what you will become. It's warning you."
Jack looked at her. "What if I don't want to become that?"
She met his gaze evenly. "Then don't."
But her eyes said otherwise.
The next day, Jack's father sent him to the barn alone to muck the stalls. He found a dead lamb inside, eyes
gone, its legs arranged in a perfect circle. He cleaned it in silence, not telling anyone.
He began talking to the forest when Eluna wasn't near.
Not shouting. Not even speaking clearly. Just… murmurs. Muttered thoughts. Half-sentences. He didn't
know why. But the forest listened. He could feel it breathing sometimes—slow and deep, like something
very large just beneath the soil.
At night, he began waking at strange hours. No dreams. Just a pressure. As if something were expecting
him to do something he hadn't yet understood. Once, he found his feet covered in dried mud, though he
had no memory of leaving bed.
Still, no one noticed. Or if they did, they said nothing.