Chapter Three
1539 Words
Beyond the Conception
Chapter Three: The Forest of Whispers
The night burned with the glow of Arin’s fire and the gleam of the creature’s golden eyes.
Arin’s heart pounded so hard he could feel it in his throat. His grip on the sword tightened until his knuckles turned white. The ember inside him flared hot, searing through his veins like molten metal.
The girl didn’t move.
“Run,” she said again, her voice sharper this time.
“No,” Arin growled through clenched teeth.
The creature lunged first.
Its body seemed to blur as it crossed the firelit clearing, its weapon raised high. Arin moved to meet it, sword flashing. The impact rang through the night — steel against whatever strange material the creature’s blade was made of, a sound like striking a bell made of ice.
The force of the blow drove Arin back a step, but he did not fall. He twisted, letting the ember’s fire guide his motion, and brought the sword around in a wide arc.
The creature’s mask split down the center, light spilling from the c***k like smoke. With a shriek, the thing dissolved into ash that scattered on the wind.
Another stepped from the trees. Then another.
The girl cursed under her breath and drew her bow, loosing an arrow so quickly Arin barely saw her move. The arrow struck one of the creatures through the eye, pinning it to a tree before it crumbled into dust.
“More are coming!” she shouted. “We can’t fight them all!”
Arin hesitated only a moment before nodding.
They ran.
Branches whipped against Arin’s face as they plunged deeper into the forest. The ground was uneven, roots catching at his boots, but he didn’t dare slow down. The sound of pursuit was all around them — the strange, bone-like clatter of the creatures as they gave chase.
“Left!” the girl called, veering down a narrow path.
Arin followed, trusting her instinct. His breath came in ragged bursts, but the ember inside him kept his legs moving, lending him strength he did not know he had.
At last, the sound of pursuit began to fade. The forest grew quieter, though the silence was almost worse.
They stumbled into a hollow, where the ground sank into a soft bed of moss and the trees arched overhead like the ribs of some great creature. The girl stopped first, listening intently.
After a long moment, she lowered her bow. “I think we lost them.”
Arin doubled over, bracing his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “Who… who are you?” he asked between gulps of air.
The girl slung her bow back over her shoulder. “Name’s Lira.”
“Arin,” he said, straightening.
Lira studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. “You shouldn’t be in this forest alone. Not with them hunting.”
“I’m not afraid of them,” Arin said, though the tremor in his voice betrayed him.
“You should be,” Lira said flatly. “They’re not like anything you’ve faced before. They don’t stop. They don’t tire. And if they were sent for you…”
She let the words trail off, but Arin heard what she didn’t say.
“They were,” he admitted. “They attacked my village. They killed my father.”
Something flickered across Lira’s face — not quite sympathy, but something close. “Then you have enemies that go far beyond this forest.”
Arin’s jaw tightened. “Good. That means I know where to aim.”
Lira shook her head. “Revenge will get you killed.”
“Maybe,” Arin said quietly. “But I can’t stay still. If I do, more people will die.”
For a moment, they simply stared at one another. Then Lira sighed and dropped onto a mossy rock.
“Fine,” she said. “Then I guess you’re stuck with me.”
Arin blinked. “What?”
“You wouldn’t last a day out here alone,” Lira said, pulling a small knife from her boot and turning it over in her hands. “You need someone who knows the forest. Lucky for you, I do.”
Arin hesitated. He didn’t know this girl — didn’t know if he could trust her — but she had fought beside him without hesitation.
And she was right.
“Alright,” he said finally. “We travel together.”
Lira smirked faintly. “Try not to slow me down.”
---
They moved carefully through the forest as dawn broke, the mist curling low around their ankles. The world seemed hushed, as though holding its breath.
“Where are we going?” Arin asked after a while.
“There’s a safe place a day’s walk from here,” Lira said. “Old ruins. Nobody goes there, not even them. We can rest and plan our next move.”
“Why don’t they go there?”
Lira glanced at him. “Because something worse than them lives there.”
Arin frowned but didn’t argue.
As they walked, he studied her. She moved like someone who had lived on the road for a long time, silent and sure-footed, her hand never far from her bow.
“Why are you helping me?” Arin asked at last.
Lira didn’t answer right away. “Let’s just say I have my own reasons for wanting those things dead.”
Arin didn’t push further.
The forest grew denser as the day wore on, the light dimming until it seemed like twilight even though the sun was still high. Strange whispers seemed to drift on the wind — half-formed words that made the hair on the back of Arin’s neck rise.
“Do you hear that?” he asked.
Lira nodded grimly. “The forest of whispers. We’re close.”
“What are they saying?”
“Nothing you want to hear.”
The whispers grew louder as they walked, forming words that seemed to crawl under Arin’s skin.
You could not save him.
Arin froze. “What?”
Lira glanced back. “Don’t listen to them.”
You let him die. You ran while the fire consumed him.
Arin’s breath caught in his throat. He gripped the sword’s hilt so hard his hand shook.
It should have been you.
“Stop!” Arin shouted into the trees. His voice echoed unnaturally, swallowed by the whispering.
Lira grabbed his arm. “Keep moving. If you stop, they’ll take you.”
“Take me?”
“Don’t ask. Just walk.”
Arin swallowed hard and forced his feet forward, though the whispers followed him, hissing his name, digging into every memory he had tried to bury.
By the time they reached the ruins, his entire body was trembling.
---
The ruins were not what Arin expected.
He had imagined crumbling walls and moss-covered stones, but what he found was stranger — a ring of monoliths standing in a wide clearing, each carved with symbols that glowed faintly in the dusk.
At the center of the ring was a raised stone platform, smooth and dark, as though it had been polished by centuries of use.
Lira knelt and touched one of the symbols. The glow brightened briefly, then faded.
“They still hold,” she said softly, almost to herself.
Arin stepped onto the platform, feeling the stone hum faintly beneath his boots. “What is this place?”
“Older than the villages. Older than the kingdoms.” Lira’s voice was quiet. “They say the first light touched this ground.”
Arin’s heart skipped a beat. “The first light? As in—”
“The Conception,” Lira said, finishing his thought.
Arin stared at her. “You know about it?”
“Everyone who’s paying attention knows about it,” Lira said. “The question is, why do you?”
Arin hesitated, then told her everything — about Kaelen, about the attack, about the figure in the square and the power that had flared inside him.
When he finished, Lira was silent for a long moment.
“Well,” she said finally. “That explains why they’re hunting you.”
“You believe me?”
Lira gave him a look. “I just watched you cut down one of those things with a sword you barely know how to use. Yeah, I believe you.”
Arin sat on the edge of the platform, feeling suddenly exhausted. “Then what do we do?”
Lira drew her bow and began checking the string for wear. “We get stronger. We learn what you are — and what they want. And when we’re ready…”
She glanced toward the forest, where the shadows had begun to gather again.
“…we hunt them.”
---
That night, Arin lay on the cold stone platform, staring up at the stars that glittered between the monoliths.
The whispers had faded, but their echo still lingered in his mind.
He thought of Kaelen. Of the promise he had made.
Somewhere, far beyond this forest, the cloaked figure was waiting.
Arin closed his eyes.
And the ember burned hotter.
- Writer
