Secrets in the leaves
1074 Words
Liora blinked. “More than I know? What does that even mean?”
Caelum studied her, the corners of his eyes creased with thought, as if he were weighing a truth too heavy for words. “This realm doesn’t call just anyone through the veil. The Wildwood chooses.”
“Chooses?” she echoed. “It’s a forest, not a sentient being.”
He gave her a strange smile. “That’s what humans believe. But the Wildwood is alive—older than any creature walking the realms. It remembers. It hungers. And it protects.”
Liora took a step back, unsure whether to feel honored or unnerved. “And what does it want with me?”
“That,” Caelum said, “is what I intend to find out.”
He gestured for her to follow him. Though her instincts screamed for caution, Liora’s feet moved. There was something about him—something ancient, sorrowful, magnetic. He didn’t look back as they walked, but he slowed his pace enough for her to keep up.
They followed a path woven through root and rock, a trail that hadn’t been carved by any hands but seemed to unfurl naturally before them. Ferns brushed her calves. Trees leaned as if listening. Strange lights—soft as fireflies—floated in the air, whispering songs in no language she knew.
As they walked, she asked, “Why hasn’t a human come through in a hundred years?”
He was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Because the last one who did… broke the realms.”
She blinked. “What?”
“There was once peace between the fae and human worlds,” he said slowly. “Until a woman named Seraphine crossed over. She fell in love with the prince of the fae—my brother. They were bound by heart and magic. But her world feared the bond. They attacked, tried to burn the Wildwood, sever the connection. A war followed. The prince died. The veil closed. And no one has crossed since.”
Liora felt her heart lurch. “That’s… horrible.”
Caelum looked away. “It is a story soaked in both beauty and ruin. And until now, I thought it had ended. But then you arrived—carrying the same bloodline.”
Her breath caught. “Seraphine…?”
“She was your grandmother’s grandmother.”
“That’s impossible.”
“No,” he said gently. “It’s destiny.”
They reached another clearing, this one dotted with glowing mushrooms and a brook that sang. Nestled in the roots of a twisted tree was a small cottage made of stone and ivy. Caelum opened the door with a wave of his hand. “You’ll stay here tonight.”
“I’m not sure I should—”
He turned to face her, eyes fierce. “The Wildwood accepted you. But its creatures may not. You need protection. I’m offering it.”
Liora hesitated. Then, curiosity—and some deeper thread of trust—won out. She stepped inside.
The interior was surprisingly warm and welcoming. A fire sparked to life as she entered, casting golden light across woven rugs and shelves filled with scrolls, crystals, and herbs. The air smelled of cedar and something sweeter—like summer rain on sun-warmed stone.
Caelum stood in the doorway. “Rest. Tomorrow, we speak with the Elder Tree. It may hold the answers we seek.”
With that, he left.
Liora sat on the bed, the silence pressing close. Her thoughts swirled. Why her? Why now? The map, the stories, the name Seraphine—it was too much, too fast.
She got up and approached a mirror mounted on the wall. For a moment, her reflection shimmered—her eyes flashing with silver, hair lifting as if caught by an unseen wind. She stumbled back.
The mirror returned to normal.
What is happening to me?
She lay down, unsure when sleep took her. Dreams came—strange and vivid. A silver tree. A crown of stars. Caelum, standing at the edge of a burning forest, reaching for her.
The next morning, the air shimmered with dew and promise. Liora stepped outside to find Caelum waiting, his cloak billowing slightly even in the still air.
“Did you sleep?” he asked.
“Barely.”
“Dreams?”
She hesitated. “Yes.”
He nodded, unsurprised. “The Wildwood speaks in dreams. Come.”
They walked again, this time along a narrower path overgrown with luminous vines. As they traveled, Caelum’s demeanor softened.
“You remind me of him,” he said quietly.
“Your brother?”
He nodded. “Aeron. He was braver than I. Wilder. He loved like the sun—burning and brilliant. He would have welcomed you.”
Liora’s chest tightened. “I wish I could have met him.”
They crested a hill, and before them stood a tree unlike any other.
Massive. Glowing. Breathing.
The Elder Tree.
Its trunk was etched with ancient runes. Its branches reached the heavens. It emanated wisdom—an unseen weight that pressed gently on the soul.
Caelum approached and knelt. “Elder. She has come.”
The bark shimmered. A voice—not spoken but felt—filled the air.
“Child of Seraphine. Blood of two worlds. Speak.”
Liora stepped forward, her legs trembling. “I didn’t come here by accident. The forest… it called me. I want to understand why.”
A pause. Then:
“Because the realms are healing. And you are the bridge.”
“The bridge?”
“Your heart carries the echo of the broken bond. A love lost, seeking to be made whole again.”
Her breath caught. “You mean…?”
The air thickened. The tree’s branches bent low, brushing her hair.
“Love once ended the peace. Love may restore it.”
Caelum rose beside her. “But how?”
“She must choose. The human world or ours. One heart cannot belong to both.”
Liora turned to Caelum, her heart pounding. “What does that mean?”
Caelum looked at her, his storm-gray eyes softening. “It means you must decide where you belong. And with whom.”
For the first time, she saw it clearly—the pull in his gaze, the aching truth.
She wasn’t just the bridge between worlds.
She was falling in love with the Guardian of the Wildwood.
- Writer
