Amarachi
The Forest of Whispers
Deep in the heart of an ancient forest, where the trees grew taller than any building and the shadows stretched long into the night, there was a legend. It spoke of a place known as the Forest of Whispers, where the trees could speak and the wind carried voices of the past.
Lena had always been drawn to the forest. As a child, her grandmother had told her stories about it—tales of spirits, hidden treasures, and the mysterious figures who lived among the roots and branches. But now, as an adult, Lena couldn’t shake the feeling that the forest was more than just a myth.
One late autumn afternoon, Lena decided to venture into the woods alone, determined to uncover the truth. She packed a small bag, took a deep breath, and followed the narrow, overgrown path that led into the depths of the forest.
—
The further she walked, the quieter the world became. The only sound was the crunch of leaves beneath her boots. The trees seemed to close in around her, their gnarled branches twisting like old fingers reaching for the sky. The sunlight barely penetrated the thick canopy above, casting everything in a perpetual twilight.
As she walked deeper, Lena began to hear it—the faintest murmurs, like distant whispers on the wind. At first, she thought it was just the rustling of the leaves, but the voices grew clearer.
“Turn back…”
“It’s too late…”
Lena stopped in her tracks, her heart pounding. The voice had been so real, so close.
“Who’s there?” she called out, her voice trembling.
No answer. Only the wind and the rustling of the trees.
—
She continued walking, but now, with each step, the whispers grew louder, as if the forest itself was speaking to her. The path twisted and turned, and she soon realized she was no longer sure which direction she was heading. The trees seemed to shift, their trunks growing thicker, their branches forming patterns that resembled faces.
A cold chill ran down her spine as she heard the voice again.
“You shouldn’t have come…”
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows—a woman, pale as moonlight, draped in a flowing white gown. Her long, dark hair cascaded around her face, obscuring her features.
Lena’s breath caught in her throat. The woman’s presence was both haunting and familiar, as though Lena had seen her before in a dream.
“Who are you?” Lena asked, her voice barely a whisper.
The woman didn’t answer at first. She simply reached out and touched the trunk of a nearby tree. The bark seemed to shimmer under her touch, and Lena’s heart skipped a beat. The woman’s hand slid down the tree, and the whispers grew louder, more urgent.
“It is time to remember…”
—
Lena took a step back, her mind racing. “Remember what?”
The woman finally looked at her, her eyes deep and endless, like pools of midnight. “You are not here by chance. The forest called to you.”
Lena’s head spun. “I don’t understand…”
“You will,” t
he woman said softly. “But first, you must listen to
