The morning mist curled gently around the trees, silver threads of fog catching in the leaves like dew-laced lace. Birds flitted from branch to branch, their songs weaving melodies above the rustle of leaves and the bubbling whisper of a nearby stream.

  She walked steadily along the mossy path, her cloak the color of new spring leaves drifting softly behind her. Her blonde hair, long and shimmering like gold silk, tumbled freely down to her waist, swaying with each step. Emerald eyes, vibrant and sharp, scanned the forest ahead, watching the light dance through the branches. Beneath her cloak, a simple brown dress fluttered around her calves, and in her right hand she carried a tall staff, crowned with a green stone that pulsed faintly — like a heartbeat in tune with the forest.

  Her name was not yet spoken, but the earth seemed to know her all the same.

  Beside her, a brown horse walked obediently, its hooves muffled by the damp earth. Behind the reins trailed a quiet young man, tall and composed, his black cloak brushing against his trousers as he walked. His black hair framed a thoughtful face, and his sharp blue eyes flicked from path to trees, ever watchful. In his right hand, he held a battered brown suitcase — a curious item in such a setting.

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  He didn’t speak much, but his presence was solid. Reassuring. His long stride matched hers easily, though he often held back just slightly, as if letting her lead.

  They had been traveling for hours, deeper into the greenwood of Ellenar — a forest said to be as old as the stars, where streams whispered secrets to those who listened, and paths appeared for those with purpose.

  A breeze stirred, lifting her hair slightly. The glowing stone atop her staff shimmered brighter for a moment, as though catching some hidden current in the air.

  “They say the forest shifts,” the girl murmured, her voice soft and lyrical, like water over smooth stone. “Depending on who walks it.”

  The young man glanced toward her, his lips curling into a faint smile. “Then we’d better keep walking. Before it decides we shouldn’t be here at all.”

  She smiled too, faintly. Not many things unsettled her, but she liked that he remembered the old stories — and respected them.

  Somewhere in the distance, the sound of chimes drifted faintly through the trees, though there was no wind.

  The forest was waking.

  And so were they.