The Secret of the Forbidden Forest

“Find her!” Travis barked, striding briskly out of the modest house.

As Travis and his men closed in behind, Clara stood trembling at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles ached, and she bit her lower lip to quiet the anxious knot twisting in her chest. She had never dared to enter the forest – her knowledge of it came only from the librarian’s wary stories.

At the edge of the village, fog rolled in like a thick, ghostly wall, wrapping the ground and trees in cold, clammy grip. A strange chill crawled down Clara’s spine, prickling her skin with goosebumps.

“All right,” she whispered, taking a breath. “For dad,” she added, easing the tension from her shoulders.

Closing her eyes, Clara summoned her courage and stepped into the unknown, though the unease still clung to her like a shadow. Unseen, Travis and the villagers lingered behind, watching in silence.

“Should we follow her?” a young man asked quietly, stepping closer to Travis.

Shaking his head, Travis answered calmly. “The witch is exactly where she belongs. No need to worry. She won’t be back.”

CHAPTER 5: LEFT OR RIGHT?

Clara’s eyelids fluttered open, her head throbbing with a pain she couldn’t name. A low groan slipped from her lips as she pressed her fingers to her temples, hoping to ease the relentless pounding. Slowly, the sharp ache dulled to a persistent throb at the base of her skull she drew a steadying breath, opened her eyes fully – and her worries dissolved. Before her stretched a wondrous, unfamiliar world, unlike anything she had ever seen.

The path beneath Clara’s feet wasn’t the familiar green she knew – it gleamed with a dazzling emerald light, sparkling like a bed of precious jewels. She squinted against the radiant glow. Looking up, towering crimson roses arched overhead, their fiery petals stretching like flames licking the sky. The sight was both mesmerizing and overwhelming. To her left, a vast field of daisies spread wide – each snowy white petal and golden center emitting a soft, gentle light that brightened the entire landscape.

Clara couldn’t believe her eyes. Her lips parted in silent awe, her heart pounding fiercely as blood rushed through her veins like never before. She stood frozen, captivated by the magical sight, struggling to trust what she saw.

A soft crackle broke the forest’s stillness, making Clara spin around. Before her stood a deer unlike any she’d seen – its coat shimmering icy blue, glowing with ethereal light. Tiny, nearly invisible stars flickered around its body. Its antlers, deep blue and curved like ancient crowns, held her gaze. Its eyes, dark as night, reflected fear and curiosity – mirroring her own. The creature stood frozen, wary but brave.

“Hey…” Clara whispered, barely daring to breathe as she edged closer, drawn by wonder.

But the deer trembled and vanished, slipping away so fast Clara wondered if she’d imagined it.

“All right…” Clara sighed, tightening her grip on the bow. “It’s not so scary here… just a… magical forest…”

But as she stepped forward, a strange, haunting sound drifted to her ears, sending a chill down her spine.

No matter how beautiful, the melody carried a deep sadness Clara couldn’t ignore. Drawn by an irresistible urge, she sought the source behind it. With each passing moment, the music tightened its grip on her mind, pushing everything else aside. Slowly, Clara deeper into the forest, chasing the haunting tune. After a few moments, Clara spotted a figure among the towering crimson roses – a woman seated at a transparent piano that shimmered with every shade of winter’s light. Her icy blue fingers barely brushed the keys, wrists moving with effortless grace. Lost in her music, the woman’s skin was pale blue like ice, sparkling like fresh snow. Her royal blue hair was pulled into a neat bun at the nape of her neck, revealing a slender neck and fragile shoulders. She wore a long, pristine white gown that flowed elegantly – sleeveless, with an open back, emphasizing her ethereal grace.

Mesmerized, Clara couldn’t look away as the stranger’s tears fell onto the glassy piano keys, each drop coaxing gentle, sorrowful notes.

Suddenly, the moment shattered. Clara stepped on a small bush and jumped back as a tiny blue creature darted from the leaves. The rustle of emerald grass broke the ice maiden’s melody, and she froze, eyes sharp and watchful on Clara.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Clara said softly, stepping forward with a quiet apology.

But the woman sprang up and vanished swiftly, slipping away in the opposite direction.

Unwilling to let the enigmatic woman vanish without a trace, Clara dashed after her. The stranger gripping the hem of her white gown, raced ahead, her movements a blur of ethereal grace. She halted abruptly, confronted by a magnificent deer crowned with regal blue antlers. With the fluidity, the woman mounted the creature, casting a final look at Clara. Her delicate hand caressed the deer’s mane before they both melted into the shadows of the forest.

Clara stood frozen, eyes wide with disbelief. The clearing now felt emptier than ever, the air heavy with the lingering echoes of the mystery that had just unfolded. She ran a trembling hand through her tangled hair, her heart pounding like a war drum.

“Did I imagine that?” she whispered, half-laughing to hide the tremor in her voice. She fidgeted with the hem of her cloak, scanning the otherworldly forest that felt both too quiet and too alive.

Clara crept closer to the towering rose, her breath caught in her throat. With a trembling hand, she traced her fingers along its thick, thorny stem. But the instant her skin brushed the plant, its enormous leaves shuddered, then whipped out and struck her arm with a sudden, sharp blow. Clara recoiled, wincing as crimson scratches bloomed across her skin.

“Are you of the human kind?” a sharp female voice demanded.

Panic surged through Clara’s chest, making her stumble backward. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she lifted her gaze – and froze. Before her, towering above the forest floor, was an unimaginable sight: a massive rose, its petals thick and velvet-smooth, parting to reveal a human-like face emerging from its core. The blend of plant and person was so surreal, so eerily beautiful, that Clara’s mind struggled to accept it.

“Lost your tongue?” the Rose demanded, its voice a sharp, thorny whisper tinged with impatience.

Clara shook her head quickly, her voice caught in her throat, unable to form even a single word. The Rose let out a dismissive huff, giving her a long, appraising look before slowly adjusting its stern. Clara exhaled shakily, releasing the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She opened her mouth to speak—

– but an irritable voice sliced through the air from the other side.

“Must you be so loud?”

Startled, the brunette flinched and turned toward the sound. A towering white daisy loomed before her, its face hidden deep within its golden center.

“Me?” Clara asked uncertainly, pointing a finger at herself. But as she squinted, she realized the Daisy wasn’t even looking at her – its eyes were locked on the Rose, narrowed in anger.

“Say that to yourself!” the Rose snapped, its petals trembling with fury. “You probably lured the human here, and now there’s an outsider in our territory!”

“Human?” The Daisy’s head drooped as if stunned. Only then did she turn her gaze to Clara. “Is this a human?”

Steeling herself, Clara managed a small measured smile. She cleared her throat and spoke softly but firmly, her voice slicing through the sudden hush among the flowers.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” she said evenly. “I’m Clara Miller.”

With grace, she lifted the hem of her dress and dipped into a polite curtsy.

Clara’s mind raced – Am I actually talking to magical flowers? The thrill was real, but so was the knot tightening in her chest over her missing father. Taking a breath, she softened her voice and called out, “Lady Rose?”

The Rose bent slightly, and Clara took a cautious step back and hurried on, “My father’s gone missing. The village guards brought him here. I need to find him. Do you – Oh!”

Before she could finish, something light brushed against her ankle. She gasped and looked down. Two tiny creatures peered up at her, eyes bright and unblinking.

Before Clara stood two diminutive beings with disproportionately large heads perched atop their slight bodies. Their limbs were short and fine, and around their torsos fluttered gossamer fins, so delicate they resembled the wings of a dream. Small, curling horns – like a fragile diadem unraveling into soft spirals – adorned their heads. Their ears. Reminiscent of butterfly wings, framed faces whose eyes – dark as a starless night – glistened with an inquisitive glow as they gazed upon the girl. One of the creatures was the color of summer sky, its skin peppered with tiny, rounded bumps. The other glowed a gentle pink, adorned with graceful white markings. Both shimmered faintly, their hues shifting like living gemstones in the light.

“What are you?” the brunette asked, inclining her head slightly, her smile warm and inviting.

The creature mirrored her gesture, then darted behind the stem of a rose with swift grace.

“So, what was it you wanted to ask us?” the Rose prompted, her petals curling in curiosity.

“Oh, right,” Clara stammed, suddenly remembering. “I wanted to know if any of you have seen my father.”

“Your father?” the flowers echoed, leaning in as one.

“Yes. my dad,” Clara said, raising her hand to show his approximate height. “He’s a little taller than me.”

“Does he have short petals?” the Daisy asked.

“Petals?” Clara blinked. “You mean… hair?” she clarified with a half-smile. “Yes, his hair is short.”

“And what color is it?” the Rose leaned in closer, eyes bright.

“Um… well, human color,” Clara faltered. “Dark brown mostly, but turning white in places.”

“Oooh!” the Daisy squeaked, her petals quivering with excitement. “Dark brown! So rare!”

The Rose leaned in, narrowing her eyes. “And what does he smell like?”

“Smell?” Clara’s brow furrowed. “Um… soap, sometimes coffee.”

“Coffee flower!” the Daisy clapped her leaves. “So exotic!”

“And his… leaves – uh, arms? Arms,” another daisy piped up. “Are they… long or short?”

“Normal human arms,” the brunette said, exasperated.

“And how many stems does he have?” the Rose asked, determined.

“Stems?” Clara nearly groaned. She raked a hand through her hair. “One! Just one stem! I mean – One body!”

The Daisy gave a disappointed sigh. “How boring…”

Clara let out a frustrated breath. “Okay, that’s enough… Please, just answer my question… Have any of you seen him or not?”

The flowers seemed to pause in quiet contemplation, exchanging silent glances as if weighing their thoughts. Amid the gentle stillness, two tiny creatures suddenly darted back to Clara, twirling joyfully around her. She bent down tenderly, and they responded with soft affection – nuzzling her hand and brushing their delicate bodies gently against her skin.

“I wonder what kind of creatures you truly are…” Clara whispered, her lips curved in curious wonder.

She stroked the pink one with a light touch while the blue creature continued its graceful dance nearby.

“Did you see him, or not?” Clara asked, her eyes lifting with hopeful anticipation.

Without waiting for a reply, she sank fully to her knees, feeling the cool, velvet grass beneath her.

“Did you see him, or not?” she repeated, leaning in.

The Daisy was the first to giggle.

“It depends on who you’re talking about.”

“My father,” Clara said hesitantly.

The Rose let out a sigh, leaning forward as if to address a particularly clueless child. “My dear, you’re asking the wrong question.”

“Exactly, exactly!” the Daisy chimed in, bouncing excitedly. “The question should be: Were we even looking in the right direction at the right time when a man who could be called a father happened to pass by?”

“..What?” Clara blinked, trying to keep up.

“You’re too straightforward,” the Rose scolded, shaking her petals disapprovingly.

“Okay, hold on,” Clara said, raising a hand to pause the conversation that was spiraling out of control. “Just tell me this: did you see a tall man, with short… petals?“she added, grimacing a bit as she forced the word out.

“Oh, we saw lots of men,” the Daisy said with a mischievous twinkle.

“Too many,” the Rose sighed, as if remembering something particularly tragic.

“One wore a magnificent green robe,” the Daisy continued, voice dreamy.

“And another had a hat so ridiculous I nearly withered from the horror,” the Rose added dramatically.

“And there was one who tried to speak in poetry, but his rhymes were so awful I thought I’d drop dead on the spot,” the Daisy put in with a theatrical shudder.

Clara let out a long sign rubbing her temples.

“All right, let’s try this again – just a yes or no: did you see a man who looked like the one I described?”

The Rose and Daisy exchanged puzzled looks.

“Well, let’s see…” Daisy began.

“Maybe,” Rose said thoughtfully.

“Then again, maybe not…”

“It’s hard to say.”

“But, one of the lumistars might have seen him,” Daisy added suddenly, brightening.

Clara set aside the growing urge to hit herself with something.

“Lumi… what?”

“Lumistars,” Daisy exclaimed. “Those little cuties twirling around you!”

Clara glanced at the two tiny creatures that had been by her side the whole time.

“So, that’s what they’re called,” she murmured, rising from the emerald grass.

“You’re lucky they’ve taken a liking to you,” the Rose said with a knowing nod.

“They’re choosy,” the Daisy added.

Clara sighed, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.

“You know what,” she said abruptly, cutting off any more of their banter, “I think I’d better just go and find my dad myself.” She straightened her posture, steeling herself for the search ahead. “No offense, but I don’t have time to waste.”

“Where are you doing?” the Rose asked, curiosity glinting in her voice.

“Forward, I suppose,” Clara shrugged. “I hardly have a choice but to keep moving.”

“But there is no path forward,” Rose said softly, her calm tone catching Clara off guard.

“What do you mean, there is no path?” Clara turned to her, brows furrowed. “There’s always a way forward.”

“You really don’t know where you are, do you?” Rose’s petals trembled as she regarded the brunette closely.

“I think I know where I am, but…” she hesitated, her voice faltering. “Could you just – explain it to me?”

“You’re in the Garden of Lumirona,” Daisy called out from a cluster of blossoms.

“The what garden?”

“The Garden of Lumirona,” Rose echoed.

“Oh God…” Clara muttered, dragging her hands down her face. “So I’m not in the Forbidden Forest? Or is this… is this part of it? Where am I supposed to go now?”

“Oh, why worry?” Daisy chirped, her petals rustling with excitement. “You can go right or left. Or left and then right! Or right and left! So many choices!”

Clara stared at her. “What? Are you mocking me? How can I go both right and left at the same time?”

“Well,” Daisy said, swaying slightly, “you could go left first, and then if you change your mind, nothing stops you from going right after. It’s so freeing!”

“Freeing?” Clara groaned, exasperated. “I need to find my father, not wander in circles.”

“Then go wherever your heart leads you~” Daisy sang. “If you go left but decide to go right – ”

“I got it!” Clara cut her off sharply. She let out a heavy sigh and fixed a hard stare at the flowers. “Look. This is my first time here. I don’t know the rules. I just want to find my dad. If you’ve seen him, tell me where he is, and if not – just help me figure out how to start looking for him.”

The flowers bent toward one another, murmuring among themselves. A hush fell.

“You can always go right, if you’re tired of left,” Daisy mused, twirling a petal.

“Usually, fathers head left in this garden.” Rose gave a solemn nod.

Clara’s shoulders slumped, her head heavy with frustration. These flowers are useless, she thought, gritting her teeth. Absolutely useless.

She clenched her fists, ready to push forward on her own. “I can’t waste any more time.”

As the flowers shifted from gentle murmurs to heated arguments, Clara seized the moment to search for her father. But where could she go? No path lay open to her except the one leading back to the village – a place she had no desire to return to.

Lost in thoughts, she made up her mind, trusting her instincts, and set her course toward the field of daisies.

Daisies seem less treacherous than roses, she thought, as if to reassure herself.

Clara walked slowly, her eyes tracing every daisy she passed. She noticed something strange – the flowers seemed to get smaller the farther she went, almost as if they were shrinking step by step. After what felt like hours, she finally found herself standing among daisies that looked just like ones back home, familiar in their size.

“This place is starting to scare me,” she whispered, casting a quick glance over her shoulder, and looked forward.

The emerald path in front of her had vanished, swallowed up by an endless stretch of wild grass. The blades were bright and fresh, but not a single flower dared to bloom. Far off in the distance, towering columns rose, and as Clara edged closer, a weathered wooden sign came into view.

“The Garden of Lumirona,” she read aloud.

Clara wished she had her notebook with her. She wanted to write everything down – call it The journey of Clara Miller. She held her bag tighter, a little thrill mixed with the nervousness in her chest.

Then she smiled, just a little. Maybe this place is too special to tell anyone about, she thought, her smile fading as she moved on.

The tall grass reached her waist, rustling with each step. She moved through the field, arms slightly outstretched, feeling the space around her. A light breeze tangled in her hair, carrying the scent of fresh grass. The ground under her boots was firm but gave just enough to remind her it was alive. Each step felt like stepping into a different life – one without the constant noise of her village. Here, silence wrapped around her, steady and calm. She never thought freedom could feel this real. The cool air sent a shiver through her, but Clara didn’t hurry to shield herself. This moment was too precious to miss.

“If only mom and dad could see this…” she whispered. Her voice barely carried the silence.

Suddenly, she felt something soft brush her leg. It was the blue lumistar.

“Have you been following me like a shadow?” Clara laughed, crouching down to pet it.

A second lumistar, the pink one, floated in from behind.

She looked at them both, an idea sparkling. “Do you want to come with me?” she asked, even though she didn’t really expect an answer.

To her surprise, they both nodded, hopping in place and flicking their butterfly-like ears.

“Oh!” she gasped, grinning. “Well then, I guess I should give you names.”

Clara turned to the blue one first. “You’ll be Zoey.” Then she pointed at the pink one “And you’ll be Lily. That way, I can talk to you properly.” She paused, smiling at the two creatures. “By the way, I’m Clara.”

The little creatures watched her quietly, their butterfly-like ears twitching now and then.

“Well, you’re not exactly chatterboxes,” Clara said with a soft laugh, standing up.

“Alright then,” she said, hands on her hips, voice a little brighter. “Let’s figure out what to do next, and how to find my dad.”

She scanned the endless field ahead.

“Any ideas on how to get out of here?” she asked, but only the wind answered.

Clara smiled to herself and glanced at the lumistars. “Okay, let’s just keep moving forward. The field had to end eventually.” And with that, she stepped ahead.

A wide field stretched out before them, fading into the bluish haze of the horizon. Silence surrounded them, broken only by the soft sway of grass in a gentle breeze. Clara’s footsteps were the only other sound.

Time lost meaning as they kept walking. Slowly, Zoey and Lily began to lag behind.

“Don’t worry, we’ll reach… something soon,” Clara said, trying to encourage them, though their tired eyes begged for a break.

Hours passed, slow and unchanging. Now Clara carried Lily in her arms.

“We’re almost there,” she whispered to herself. “No one said this would be easy.”

Another hour went by. Zoey now rested on her back, the extra weight pulling at every part of her.

“I’m so… tired…” she murmured, feeling her strength slip away.

She stopped and took a deep breath, closing her eyes, hoping a moment’s rest might help.

“Get down, you’re too heavy,” she sighed, still eyes closed.

The lumistars jumped down quietly as Clara sank to her knees, worn out.

“It feels like we’ve been walking forever,” she whispered.

“Yeah, it does feel that way,” came a voice behind her, making her freeze.

“Who’s there?” she demanded, her trembling.

“I’m the Guardian,” replied a soft, calm voice – a woman’s voice.

Clara turned slowly, rising to face the speaker.

Standing before her was a girl who looked like a living statue, every feature sculpted with impossible precision. She radiated a presence both divine and fragile – a goddess carved in marble. Yet cracks ran along her body, some so deep they had opened into gaps, from which small, glowing yellow flowers bloomed.

The Guardian regarded Clara with eyes that revealed nothing.

“And who are you?” she asked, her voice so quiet that Clara had to lean in to catch her words.

“I… I’m Clara,” she replied, still dazed. “You said you’re a Guardian?”

“Yes,” the girl answered simply. “I am the Guardian of this field.”

“Is this place… magical, too?” Clara asked, astonished.

“This is the Field of Frozen Time,” the Guardian explained. “It’s also a portal to other worlds.”

“And that’s why I can’t leave?” the brunette pressed, desperation creeping into her voice.

“It’s impossible. No matter where you walk, you’ll always return to the same place.”

Clara glanced around, letting the words sink in. Her eyes landed on the sign that read “The Garden of Lumirona.”

“All this time… I’ve just been standing still?” she asked, her voice trembling in disbelief.

“Yes,” the Guardian confirmed/

Clara blinked, struggling to process it.

“So… I’m stuck here? Forever?”

“Maybe.”

For a moment, silence hung in the air. Clara let out a sigh and drooped her shoulders. She looked around: the endless field, the sky without a sun, the grass still in the wind.

She turned back to the Guardian and took a deep breath. “Will you help me get out of here?”

“That depends on where you want to go,” the Guardian said, her head tilting slightly.

“I don’t know exactly,” Clara admitted. “I just want to find my dad.”

“Then I can’t help you.”

“Why not?”

“How can I help you if you don’t know where you need to go?”

Clara frowned and stepped closer. “I need to find him. I want to find him.”

“Then go to your father,” the Guardian replied.

“But I don’t know where he is,” Clara insisted.

“Neither do I.”

Clara’s hands clenched at her sides. She forced herself to breathe, to stay calm. After a moment she looked up and asked, “Can you at least find out where he is?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on…” Clara started pacing, frustration bubbling up. “There has to be a way. If this is a portal, then I should be able to go somewhere, right?”

“Yes,” the Guardian said simply.

“Then open a portal to wherever my dad is.”

“You don’t know where he is.”

“So what?”

“If you don’t know where he is, how can I open a portal there?”

Clara ran her fingers through her hair and kept pacing, her boots scuffing the ground.

No, this won’t do. At this rate, I’ll never find my father, she thought. The brunette glanced at the Guardian, then straightened, raising her hand.

“Don’t go anywhere,” she said firmly, pointing at the girl. Then she turned to Zoey and Lily. “Come with me.”