CHAPTER 8.
Maria sat quietly by the window of the crumbling hut, her fingers unconsciously tracing patterns in the dust gathered on the sill. The air outside hummed strangely, like the forest itself was trying to speak. She felt it deep in her chest—something was shifting.
Ayo hadn’t returned since morning. The silence around her wasn’t peace; it was the kind of quiet that made her heart tense with questions. Was he watching? Was he gone for good?
She took a deep breath and walked to the wooden chest at the corner of the room—the one he always kept locked. Today, it wasn’t. Her heart pounded as she slowly lifted the lid. Inside, folded neatly, were old photographs. Her mother as a child. Her, as a baby—held by someone she couldn’t recognize. A woman with sharp cheekbones and stormy eyes.
There was also a folded parchment. She opened it slowly.
*“She must return. The bloodline must be awakened.”* Beneath it was a name she’d never heard: *Inira*. It sent a chill through her spine. She whispered it aloud—and the room suddenly grew cold. A gust of wind blew out the tiny lantern on the shelf.
A creak.
Maria turned.
A tall woman with long silver braids and eyes the color of frost stood at the door, her face unfamiliar, yet strangely comforting. “You’ve awakened it,” she said softly. “The Forest of Whispering Pines remembers.”
Maria backed away, heart racing. “Who are you?”
“I am Inira,” the woman said, stepping in, her voice warm but powerful. “You don’t know who you are, do you?”
Maria shook her head.
“You’re not here by accident. Ayo was never meant to harm you… but he was never meant to keep you either.” Inira stepped closer. “The blood that runs through your veins—your mother’s blood—comes from the Seers of Nnuma. Women gifted with sight, and memory, and time.”
Maria’s mouth went dry. “My mother… she never told me anything.”
“She couldn’t. She left the path. She sealed it behind her when she chose a different life… a normal life.” Inira looked toward the window. “But choices echo. And now they’re calling you.”
Before Maria could ask another question, another voice broke through.
“Maria!”
It was Ayo—his voice desperate, running through the trees.“He must not find me here,” Inira whispered. “Not yet.”
In a blink, she was gone. No trace, not even footprints in the dust.
The wind howled louder now.
Maria sank to the floor, clutching the parchment. She didn’t know what scared her more—that she was part of something ancient… or that she was beginning to believe it.
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