The deeper you go, the quieter the world becomes. But sometimes, it's not silence you should fear… it's what comes after.
The footprints weren't ours.
They were too large for any of us. Boot prints. Deep. Heavy. Fresh.
I crouched beside them just past the broken chapel doors, the mud still clinging wet to the tread marks. Whoever made them had walked right up to the ruined frame of the mirror... and then turned back toward the forest.
"Someone was here," I said.
Arisa knelt beside me. "Could be a hiker. Or someone from town?"
James shook his head. "No one hikes here. Not since the fire. This place gives people the creeps."
We all stared at the forest beyond the chapel. Trees packed so tightly they looked like they were whispering to each other. Their shadows tangled together, forming long arms across the mossy floor. I swear I could hear them breathing.
Still… we followed the footprints anyway.
The deeper we went, the more the world shifted.
The trail wasn't marked, but somehow we knew where to go. The map from the book had burned itself into my brain — I could feel it guiding us, like a compass in my blood. Left at the crooked birch. Right where the creek turns to stone.
It wasn't normal.
None of this was.
The air grew colder, thicker, like fog beneath the skin. Sounds started fading — bird calls, the crunch of our footsteps, even our voices felt distant, like we were speaking through water. That's when I remembered the name.
The Forest Hush.
A place where lies are drowned in silence.
"This place feels… wrong," James muttered, rubbing his arms.
I nodded. "It's not just us. It's like the forest is listening."
"Or watching," Arisa added, eyes scanning the treetops.
We walked in silence for a while, the kind of silence that stretches too long. I caught glimpses of our reflections in the puddles scattered across the path — but they were always just a second too slow to follow. Like they lagged behind. Or paused to think.
Once, I stopped and looked into one. The water was perfectly still, and there I was.
Staring back.
But I wasn't blinking.
And I wasn't smiling.
Eventually, the forest opened into a small clearing surrounded by silver-leafed trees. In the center was a pool of water so still it looked like a slab of polished glass. No ripples. No breeze. Nothing.
The Stillward Pool.
We stood on the edge, staring at it. No one spoke. Even James, who usually couldn't shut up, was quiet.
That's when we noticed something strange.
The reflections.
They were all wrong.
In the water, we stood side by side — but our mirrored selves… didn't.
Arisa's reflection was turned away, like it was looking into the trees.
James's wore a faint, worried frown. Real James was calm.
And mine… mine was smiling.
Slow, crooked, knowing.
My chest tightened.
"Do you see that?" I whispered.
"I'm not sure what I'm seeing," Arisa said, her voice barely above a breath.
James took a step back. "This place is like a trap."
"No," I said. "It's a test."
I took off my shoes and stepped forward, feet sliding into the glassy water.
It was freezing. But not just cold — memory-cold. I felt moments brushing my skin like whispers: laughter, tears, voices I hadn't heard in years. My fifth birthday. My father's voice. The first time I lied to someone and meant it.
The water didn't ripple. It opened.
Just slightly — a glow beneath the surface. Gold and soft, like liquid sunrise.
There it was.
Aurumglass.
A smooth, golden shard, half-buried in the silt, glowing faintly like it was alive. It didn't shine like metal — it shimmered like memory. Like truth.
I reached for it.
The moment my fingers touched the surface, the world tilted.
I wasn't in the forest anymore.
I stood in a different room — our kitchen back home.
I was ten.
My dad was alive.
He was laughing, cooking scrambled eggs in a way that only he could — too much pepper, too little egg. My younger self sat at the table, swinging my legs, talking about aliens and mirror dimensions.
He said, "You always look in the mirror like it owes you something."
My mom laughed. "Maybe it does."
It was the last day before the accident.
The last day we were all normal.
Then everything froze. The air shimmered, and a voice whispered from behind me — not loud, not harsh, but clear.
"This is who you were.
Can you face who you are now?"
I turned — and I was back in the forest, chest heaving, the Aurumglass clutched in my hand.
It was warm.
And it was mine.
Arisa and James rushed toward me. "What happened?" Arisa asked, grabbing my arm.
James looked at the stone. "It… glows."
"I saw something," I said. "A memory. A real one."
"That's what it does," Arisa whispered, brushing her fingers over it. "It shows your core. Your truth."
"But why?" James asked. "What does it want?"
Before I could answer, the water stirred.
We all looked down.
Our reflections were gone.
In their place were three symbols — etched beneath the surface.
A mask. A crown. And an eye.
And behind them, far beneath the glassy surface… something moved.
Just for a second.
But it was enough to make us all step back.
The forest around us shifted again — windless, soundless, watching.
There were more mysteries than we thought.
This was just the beginning.