The Echoing Woods

Every town has its legends, and for the small village of Greystone, it was the tale of the Echoing Woods. They said the forest had a voice—a sentient whisper that lured travelers off the path with promises of answers to their deepest questions. But no one who followed the whispers ever returned.

For Elara, a struggling journalist desperate for a breakthrough, the woods were more than a story—they were her ticket to fame. Determined to uncover the truth, she packed her camera, a notebook, and a lantern, setting out under the light of a crescent moon.

As soon as she stepped into the forest, the air grew heavy, and the world seemed to quiet. Her lantern cast long shadows, and the trees appeared to lean in, as though listening. Then it began—a soft, melodic whisper weaving through the branches.

“What do you seek, wanderer?” the voice murmured, faint yet clear.

Elara froze, her breath hitching. She had expected eerie silence, not this. Summoning her courage, she called out, “Who’s there?”

“What do you seek?” the voice repeated, closer this time.

Elara’s instincts told her to run, but her curiosity won out. “I seek the truth about this place. Who are you?”

The voice laughed, a sound like rustling leaves. “Follow, and you shall see.”

The light from her lantern flickered, dimming as a faint glow appeared deeper in the woods. Against her better judgment, Elara followed, weaving through gnarled roots and thick underbrush. The glow led her to a clearing where an ancient tree stood, its massive trunk split open to reveal a hollow interior bathed in golden light.

Inside the tree, a shifting form began to materialize—a being made of light and shadow, with eyes that glimmered like stars. “You’ve come far, seeker,” it said. “Ask your question.”

Elara hesitated, her pulse racing. She had so many questions—about the forest, the missing people, the source of the voice. But something deeper stirred within her, a question she hadn’t dared to ask herself.

“Why do I feel so lost?” she whispered.

The being’s eyes softened. “Because you search for answers in others when they are within you. But the woods do not give without taking. Are you willing to pay the price for clarity?”

Elara’s heart pounded. “What’s the price?”

The being extended a hand, and the forest grew unnaturally silent. “Your voice, your stories, your words. You will leave here empty of the weight you carry, but you will never tell your tale.”

The offer was both terrifying and tempting. To be free of the questions that haunted her—but at the cost of her identity as a writer? She swallowed hard, torn between fear and longing.

As dawn broke, the villagers found Elara standing at the edge of the forest, her lantern extinguished and her notebook blank. She had returned—but she could no longer speak, her voice now part of the forest’s eternal whisper.