The Forst Direct

He found the locket caught on a low-hanging branch of a tree that looked more like a frozen giant than a plant. As he reached for it, a voice like rustling leaves whispered in his ear. "Few return for what is lost," the voice murmured.

Elias grabbed the locket and ran, bursting back into the sunlight of the meadow just as the sun began to set. He looked back once, but the silver birches were still, and the shadows were deep and silent once more. the forst

Elias stood at the edge of the tree line, his boots sinking into the soft, black earth. He had lived in the village of Oakhaven his entire life, and for all eighteen of those years, he had been told the same thing: Never step past the silver birches. He found the locket caught on a low-hanging

"Take it," the voice sighed, a gentle breeze ruffling Elias’s hair. "But remember: the Forst keeps what is forgotten. Do not forget her." Elias grabbed the locket and ran, bursting back

The branches shifted, revealing a pair of golden eyes deep within the hollow of the trunk. There was no malice in them, only a vast, ancient curiosity. The forest, it seemed, wasn't a place of monsters, but a guardian of memories.