Page 122 of Unveiled

Connor stood, already pulling on his boots. “Why?”

Xiathen’s gaze flicked to Adrian. And that was answer enough.

Adrian swallowed hard. “It’s because of the vow.”

“Yes,” Xiathen whispered. “It recognised you.”

Connor’s jaw tightened. “And what does it want?”

Xiathen hesitated, a sign Adrian had learned meant only one thing: something ancient, dangerous, and pivotal. “It wants,” Xiathen breathed, “to speak with you.”

Connor frowned. “Trees don’t speak.”

Xiathen looked at him with an enigmatic smile. “These do.”

They walked into a forest that had changed overnight. The Whispering Wood was always dense and ancient. A tangle of moss, bark, and shadow nestled within the valley’s eastern edge.

But now, the air shimmered. The trunks glowed faintly with bioluminescent veins. The leaves flickered with pulsing light, beating softly in time with Adrian’s mark.

Adrian stopped after they crossed beneath the first arch of twisted branches. “Connor,” he said, “it’s reacting.”

Connor’s grip tightened. “Then we stay close.”

Xiathen walked ahead, but not with his usual confidence. He moved like a pilgrim stepping onto holy ground, his head bowed and his hands tucked within his sleeves. “The Wood is old,” he murmured. “Older than the valley. Older than the Council. Older than the First Two.”

Connor narrowed his eyes. “And it lives?”

“It remembers.”

“What does it remember?” Adrian asked.

Xiathen stopped walking. He turned slowly. And for the first time since Adrian met him, Xiathen looked afraid. “It remembers Valours.”

Adrian’s heart slammed into stillness.

Connor stepped in front of Xiathen. “Meaning what exactly?”

Xiathen whispered, “The First Two came here in their final days. The Wood listened to their vow. It held their last breath. It soaked their dying resonance into its roots.”

Adrian asked, “So the forest carries their memory?”

“And their power,” Xiathen said. “And their grief. And their legacy.”

Adrian inhaled deeply. “And now?”

“It hears you,” Xiathen said. “Your vow. Your bond.”

Connor squeezed Adrian’s hand. “We go together.”

Adrian nodded, his fingers curling around Connor’s tightly. They stepped deeper into the wood.

The moss beneath their feet glowed softly, like stepping on moonlit velvet. Branches arched overhead, bending inward, creating a cathedral of living wood.

Wind rustled. Leaves shivered. And then he heard a whisper. Soft. Faint. But unmistakable.

Connor froze mid-step. “What the hell was that?”

Adrian’s breath hitched. “It’s speaking.”