Chapter 1 — The Silver Forest

Ashley

The Silver Forest had always felt like a dare, a looming presence at the edge of Ashley’s life. Its silver-gray trees stood sentinel under the twilight sky, their bark gleaming faintly like something alive. Tonight, though, the forest seemed different. Larger. Its shadows stretched long and dark, as if it anticipated her arrival. Ashley knew better than to be here, especially at dusk, but the argument with her father had left her too heated to think straight. Now, standing on the edge of the woods with the scent of damp earth and pine in the air, the anger still simmered, but something else tugged at her: curiosity, fear, defiance—and something deeper she couldn’t quite name.

Her father’s last words rang in her mind: *“You’re just like your mother—always chasing things you don’t understand!”* That was the point, wasn’t it? She didn’t understand why her mom had disappeared all those years ago, why her absence felt like a wound that never healed. Or why she sometimes felt restless, like pieces of herself were scattered, waiting to be found. Her feet had led her here, past reason or caution, to the border of the forest that had always seemed to hold answers just out of reach.

The silence wrapped around her like a second skin. No birdsong, no rustle of animals in the underbrush—just the occasional creak of branches under their own weight. The air felt heavier here, as though the forest pressed on her chest, breathing with her. A shiver ran through her, but she adjusted the strap of her backpack, the comforting weight of her water bottle and flashlight inside. She wouldn’t go far. Just enough to clear her head. Maybe prove—to herself, if no one else—that she wasn’t afraid.

Her boots crunched softly against the mossy ground as she stepped into the shadows. The light shifted immediately, moonlight threading unevenly through the canopy above. It was darker than she’d expected, her eyes struggling to adjust as shadows crowded in around her. The damp smell of the forest thickened, carrying a faint metallic tang that made her throat tighten.

“You’re such an idiot,” she muttered, her voice muffled by the trees. Still, she pushed on, brushing past low-hanging branches and ducking under gnarled roots. She didn’t dare turn on the flashlight yet; something about the forest felt like it would punish her for the intrusion of artificial light.

The deeper she went, the stranger the forest became. The air grew colder, her breath visible in faint white puffs. The metallic scent intensified, mingling with something sweeter, almost sickly, like overripe fruit. Glowing fungi dotted the bases of trees, their pale, blue-green light casting eerie shadows across the twisting roots and uneven ground. The path—if it could even be called that—seemed to shift beneath her feet, as though the forest itself were rearranging around her.

Ashley stopped, her heart thudding in her ears. She turned in a slow circle, her surroundings unfamiliar and disorienting. Hadn’t she come from that direction? Or was it that way? The trees all looked the same now, their silver bark gleaming faintly in the dim light. Panic prickled at the edges of her thoughts, but she shoved it down. She’d been in the forest before, though never this far in. She just needed to retrace her steps.

“I’m fine,” she whispered to herself, though her voice sounded small, swallowed by the trees.

A snap of a branch behind her pierced the stillness.

Her pulse quickened, her ears straining for any hint of movement. The sound of her own breathing filled her head, sharp and shallow, but beneath it—was that a whisper? No, it was just the wind, she told herself. Probably a squirrel or something.

But the forest had gone impossibly silent again.

“Hello?” she called out, hating the crack in her voice. Her hands clenched into fists, nails digging into her palms.

Another sound—a rustle, louder this time, coming from her left. Ashley spun toward it, her eyes darting between the trees. The shadows seemed to shift, twisting like smoke, and her stomach turned. She backed up a step, her spine pressing against rough bark.

“Get it together, Ashley.”

The words barely left her lips before something lunged from the darkness.

It wasn’t a person, wasn’t an animal—not really. A mass of shadow and teeth slammed into her, knocking her to the ground. Pain exploded in her side as her ribs collided with a root, the air rushing from her lungs. She tried to scream, but the creature was on her, pressing her down. Its weight was suffocating, its form shifting and writhing like smoke given flesh.

Amber eyes—no, embers—glared at her from its amorphous head, and its breath was hot and rancid against her face. The metallic tang she’d smelled earlier overwhelmed her now, thick and choking as it seeped into her senses.

“Get off me!” she managed, her voice raw. She clawed at the creature’s shifting form, but her fingers passed through it like mist. The harder she struggled, the tighter it held her, its tendrils curling around her wrists, her chest, her throat.

Then she felt it—a burning, searing pain just below her collarbone. She screamed, arching her back as the heat spread, burrowing into her like molten iron. The creature snarled, its ember eyes flaring brighter, and for a moment, Ashley thought she was going to die.

But then it stopped.

The creature recoiled with a guttural growl, its form flickering like a dying flame. Ashley gasped for air, clutching at her chest, where something now glowed faintly beneath her shirt. The pain dulled to a throb, but the heat remained, pulsing in time with her racing heart. The creature hovered for a moment, as if uncertain, before retreating into the shadows.

Ashley scrambled to her feet, swaying as dizziness threatened to overtake her. Her knees felt weak, her hands trembling as she pressed them against the nearest tree for support.

The forest had changed again. The air hummed with an electric charge, the shadows deeper and more menacing. And in her mind—no, in her very soul—she felt it. A presence, vast and ancient, coiled around her like a second skin.

*You are bound to me.*

The voice was low and resonant, echoing not in her ears but in the very marrow of her bones. Ashley froze, her breath caught in her throat.

“W-who’s there?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

*You will know me in time. We are one now.*

The voice was neither malevolent nor kind. It simply was, powerful and unyielding. Ashley’s hands flew to her chest, where the glow beneath her shirt brightened for a moment before dimming again.

“No,” she said, louder this time. “No, I’m not yours. I don’t know what you are, but I’m not—”

*Foolish girl.*

The voice cut through her defiance like a blade, and for a moment, the world around her seemed to tilt. She stumbled, catching herself against the tree.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she said, though the quake in her voice betrayed her. “I don’t care what you are, I won’t—”

The presence withdrew abruptly, leaving her shaking and cold. The forest was quiet again, but it was a different kind of quiet. The kind that listened.

Ashley didn’t wait to find out what else the forest had in store. She turned and ran, her boots slipping on moss and mud, her breath ragged in her throat. The trees seemed closer now, their gnarled roots reaching for her like fingers.

By the time she burst out of the woods and onto the edge of her family’s property, her chest burned—both from exertion and the lingering heat of the sigil. She collapsed onto the porch steps, gasping and clutching at her shirt.

The faint glow of the sigil pulsed through the fabric, and for the first time, Ashley felt truly afraid—not of the forest, not of the creature, but of herself.

Whatever had happened out there, it wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.