The Secret of the Forbidden Forest

The hem of her dress brushed the grass as she ran toward the sign. The air thickened with the scent of daisies, and Clara found herself surrounded by white petals once more. She slowed as she reached the mist from which she’d first arrived.

“This is where I started,” she murmured, glancing around.

She stared at the tall, drooping roses, then shut her eyes. Her shoulders trembled. After a moment, she took a deep breath.

“How can I get out of here?” she called, her voice echoing.

The flowers stood utterly still – no rustle, not the faintest stir. Clara frowned, her lashes flattering as she blinked rapidly.

A moment ago they were chattering nonstop, and now they’re silent…

“What am I supposed to do now?” Clara muttered, glancing at the lumistars. Doubt gnawed at her.

She scanned the surroundings, took a deep breath, and stepped forward.

“If there’s nothing there, then there’s nothing to fear,” she whispered, more to herself than to Zoey and Lily, who walked beside her.

The farther Clara went, the darker the path became. The air turned stale; colors dulled, and the flowers thinned until they vanished completely.

“I don’t like this…” she muttered, coming to a halt.

Ahead, the ground lay scorched and dry, lifeless as if rain hadn’t touched it for years. A foul, rotting stench drifted from the shadows.

“Oh God…” Clara grimaced, raising her hand to cover her nose.

The smell was thick and musty, clinging to everything, turning each breath into a struggle. Clara hated what she saw – and what she smelled.

“I hope you’re alive, Dad…” she whispered, stepping cautiously forward.

The stench grew heavier with every step, a dull ache rising behind her eyes.

Just hope there aren’t any beasts here… The thought flickered uneasily in her mind.

Only then did the full weight of it settle on Clara: she was deep within the heart of Forbidden Forest – steeped in dark legends, a place from which no one who entered ever returned. How had she never considered the wild beasts lurking in the shadows? What if the same fate awaited her? What if the forest hid something far worse – something too terrible to name? The foul stench was the first warning.

“But I can’t turn back,” she whispered, panic rising like a swelling tide. “Dad is still here…”

Despite the rising panic, Clara pressed onward. Her heart thudded faintly, as if desperate to break free and flee. Anything to escape the suffocating silence ahead. The air hung dry and still. Then, before her, a narrow crevice appeared – the mouth of a cave, its depths swallowed by impenetrable darkness. Clara swallowed hard, tightening her grip on her bag and the leather strap of her quiver.

“Dad..?” she whispered, voice trembling.

No sound answered her. Only Zoey’s and Lily’s eyes turned toward Clara, wide with silent confusion. They couldn’t understand why she would step into that soul-frightening abyss when every instinct screamed to run. Closing her eyes, Clara took a steadying breath, willing the trembling to subside. She slipped her bag from her shoulders, setting it gently on the dry earth: an unnecessary weight if she needed to flee. Gripping her bow tighter, she nocked an arrow and pulled back the string with practiced ease.

“Well,” she whispered, staring into the impenetrable shadow ahead. “Let’s go.”

One step. Then another. Though the crevice still lay some distance away, unease crawled through her veins, and goosebumps prickled her skin.

The lumistars, who had watched with wary eyes until then, suddenly bolted away. Their footsteps faded into the eerie silence of the forest – if it could even be called that. Clara tensed. If even these creatures fled, she knew she was about to face a true danger. And with all her heart, she wished to meet nothing – no one – there.

Clara took a deep breath and stepped forward. A few cautious steps brought her to the entrance. Squinting, she spotted a narrow stone staircase winding down into darkness. The top steps caught faint light; beyond that, only shadow.

“I hope this isn’t the road to the underworld…” she murmured, bracing herself to enter.

Clara barely had time to react before a sudden tug on her cloak yanked her backward. The breath was knocked from her lungs, and a sharp pain tightened around her throat. She crashed to the ground with a dull thud that echoed through the silence. Her face contorted in a grimace as she clutched her aching back, teeth drenched tight.

“Damn it…”

Before she could push herself up, a small weight landed on her knees. She looked down to see Lily, the pink lumistar, blinking up at her with innocent eyes.

“Lily..?” Clara frowned. “Did you push me?” She hardly expected a response, but Lily nodded cheerfully, a spark of pride in her mischief. Zoey quickly joined them, casting a worried glance toward Clara.

The girl rose slowly, brushing dust from her palms, her eyes shifting between the lumistars, the ominous cave entrance, and the bow lying a few feet away.

“You don’t want me to go in there?” she asked softly, pointing a tentative finger toward the dark maw.

The lumistars shook their heads in unison, their butterfly-like ears twitching as if to emphasize their silent warning.

“But what if my father is in there?” Clara squinted, arching a brow with a touch of disbelief. “Have you thought about that?”

The little creatures exchanged uncertain glances and shook their heads once more.

“So… you haven’t thought about it? Or are you sure he’s not there?” The brunette’s lips curled into a faint, rueful smile. “Honestly, I don’t understand you.”

Clara let out a tired breath and stooped to grab her bow, her hand trembling just a bit. She kept her gaze on the ground, her voice barely a whisper. “I guess I still have to check,” she said, mostly to herself.

Before she could even straighten up, Zoey and Lily perked up, their small bodies tense with worry. They darted around her legs, their faint flow flickering like anxious fireflies.

“Hey, what’s – » Clara started, but her words caught in her throat as Zoey sprang at her, paws pressing hard on her.

“Zoey, what are you…”

Lily darted in from the side, her small teeth catching the hem of Clara’s dress.

“Hey, hey, hold on!” the brunette exhaled, staring at the little ones in surprise.

The lumistars didn’t let up. Zoey pushed against her, steady and insistent, while Lily scrambled up her leg, grabbing at the wristband of Clara’s dress to haul herself into her arms.

“Oh, God…” Clara breathed out, struggling to keep her balance under the sudden weight.

Lily wrapped her tiny paws around Clara’s shoulders and pressed close, her little teeth tugging on a stray strand of hair, pulling it down just enough to make Clara wince.

“Seriously, you’re like a sack of bricks,” Clara muttered through clenched teeth, sinking to her knees to keep from dropping Lily.

Her back ached beneath the weight of the small creature, but Clara pressed a gentle palm against its fragile spine. With her other hand, she quietly untangled the tiny paws caught in her hair.

“All right, that’s enough. I’m not going in there – happy now?” Clara snapped, casting Zoey a sharp glance as she carefully set Lily down.

She sighed heavily, bending to retrieve her bag and quiver from the dusty ground. The soft click of arrows brushing together broke the silence. Then, resolute yet weary, she stepped away from the dry path. The lumistars, clearly pleased with themselves, bounced happily alongside Clara, exchanging quick glances and soft chirps. Clara rolled her eyes, but the faintest smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

These little ones are surprisingly entertaining… Maybe I should keep them close.

With that thought, she stepped onto the wide emerald path where it had all begun.

Now that the tight grip of anxiety had loosened, Clara’s eyes swept over her surroundings with fresh clarity. Nestled among the towering flowers were musical instruments – each crafted from ice or some other delicate, shimmering material that caught the soft light.

A guitar lay nearby, its strings as fine and fragile as spider silk. Close by, a harp stretched skyward, its frame etched with golden patterns that glowed faintly. Further along, a harpsichord radiated a gentle, ethereal light, while a frost-covered flute shimmered with a tender blue glow. Resting on a small stone was a lithophone, its smooth plates gleaming like polished ice.

They must love music here… Clara thought, a flicker of curiosity stirring within her. The memory of a girl playing a sorrowful melody on a beautiful piano echoed faintly in her mind.

Clara lifted her head, her eyes flickering first to the Daisies, then shifting to the Roses. The flowers stayed silent, still and unmoving as before, and for a moment, Clara wondered if the whole strange conversation had been nothing more than a trick of her mind.

“Let’s not waste time,” she whispered to herself, stepping toward the Roses.

I hope there’s something useful here…

But how wrong she was, moments later finding herself once again in an endless field.

“What kind of infinite loop is this?!” Clara exclaimed, frustration tightening her voice.

“It is an endless field,” the Guardian appeared suddenly.

“Yeah, I kind of guessed that.”

“Very well.”

Clara let out a sharp, convulsive sigh, threw her hands up toward the sky, and groaned in defeat.

“That’s it. I give up. I’ll just build myself a hut out of grass and stay here forever.”

“That is possible.”

“I was being sarcastic!”

She dropped to the ground, exhaustion pressing down on her like a weight.

“So… what now?” she murmured, almost too quietly to be heard.

The Guardian’s voice came gently but clearly. “Decide where you want to go.”

Without hesitation, Clara’s reply was firm. “Somewhere with water.”

“Very well.”

The Guardian closed her eyes, and the yellow flowers began to glow with a radiant light, their soft luminescence swirling gently on the breeze. In an instant, a majestic circle of golden light blossomed around Clara, encasing her in a warm, shimmering embrace.

“Good luck,” she said softly as Clara felt herself falling, the world slipping away beneath her.

Her bag slipped from her shoulder, landing with a dull thud on the ground.

CHAPTER 6: FAIRIES

Clara tumbled into the abyss, her entire body seized by a cold, paralyzing terror. A scream tore from her throat, shattering the silence and ricocheting off unseen walls as she plunged endlessly downward. Wind clawed at her hair, its icy fingers whipping her face. Her heart slammed so hard in her chest she thought it might burst, each frantic beat echoing like a drum of despair. Two lumistars circled her, their bodies aglow in the half-light. Slowly, her scream ebbed into a hoarse whisper. Confusion crept in – she wasn’t shattering on the ground; she was just… falling. The panic began to melt away, leaving a gnawing sense of wonder. Tentatively, Clara forced her eyes open.

Golden and blue hues shimmered on the walls around her, weaving a tapestry of light that danced and shifted with an otherworldly grace. It was breathtakingly beautiful – and impossibly strange.

This shouldn’t feel so calm, she thought, her mind swirling with questions.

“Are we falling endlessly?” Surprise flickered in her eyes, her voice edged with a wry humor that only half-masked the anxiety beneath. “How much longer do we – ”

Suddenly, her breath caught. A cold shock slammed through her body – a brutal impact with water. The liquid enveloped her in an instant, dragging her under with a violent splash that ripped the air from her lungs. Terror blazed anew as she struggled to hold her breath, but the water forced its way in, bitter and sharp, searing her chest with burning pain. Every cell in her body fought to expel the invasive fluid, but the instinct to breathe only intensified, like a vice around her ribs. She thrashed blindly, her limbs flailing in the murky depths, gasping for something solid. Waves buffeted her from every direction, disorienting and spinning her in a darkness that pressed like an iron weight. She was utterly adrift, powerless.

She was drowning.

Her head spun, her eyelids heavy and fluttering from exhaustion, only to snap open again with a desperate will to survive. She strained to catch even the faintest glimmer of light – any sign of salvation. Her body convulsed in a panicked, clumsy fight against the relentless water, but every movement felt sluggish, every muscle uncoordinated. The water pressed in from all sides, a merciless force that offered no chance to breathe, no mercy to her desperation.

A wave seized her nearly unconscious body, lifting her in a series of unsteady, desperate thrusts. Clara felt the water pressing against her, urging her upward – a slow, disoriented realization breaking through the fog of confusion: she was rising. She forced her eyes open, her vision blurring as murky shadows and flashes of light danced before her. The waves grew stronger, their force undeniable, pushing her higher and higher. Then, with a gasp – raw and ragged with pain and relief – Clara burst through the surface. Water streamed from her face, her hair plastered in heavy strands against her skin. She gulped at the air, coughing and retching the liquid from her throat. Her lungs burned, but at last, blessed oxygen filled them, driving the panic back, if only for a moment.

“Who are you?!” demanded a voice – authoritative and unyielding, cutting through the ragged rhythm of Clara’s breathing.

It was a woman’s voice, harsh and unfamiliar, yet already wearing on Clara’s nerves.

“Whoever I am,” she rasped, between coughs that racked her chest and spatters of water from her lips, “just let me catch my breath – then ask whatever you want…” She rolled her eyes, eyelids heavy with exhaustion, and let them fall shut.

The ground beneath her was unyielding, jagged stones pressing into her back, their sharp edges biting cruelly into her skin. Each breath felt like it scraped against her ribs, but at least she was breathing.

“Don’t you dare to be rude!” the stranger snapped, her voice sharp and cutting.

Clara groaned, irritation surging through her like a wave.

“Just leave me alone,” she muttered, her voice low and rough. “I’ve had enough of this magical world already.”

She hadn’t expected the reaction that followed. Gasps of disbelief rose around her, followed by a chorus of reproachful whispers.

“You’re one of the Banshees?!”

“Who?!” Clara asked, blinking in confusion.

The brunette rolled over and pushed herself up to her knees, ignoring the pain from the sharp rocks pressing into her skin. Her eyes widened as she took in her surroundings: a cavern vast and majestic, its walls adorned with patterns of sea-foam green that shifted and shimmered. High above, a round opening let in a single shaft of sunlight that bathed the chamber in a pale glow. Beneath her, jagged black stones jutted from the ground, forming a rough path that led toward a brilliant, snow-white temple.

Clusters of figures – neither fully human nor entirely other – gathered near the temple’s entrance.

“Who are you?” the brunette asked softly, her voice trembling with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

Before her stood water fairies – soldiers of this world. They encircled the temple, gripping battle spears, eyes sharp with distrust. The nearest fairy stepped forward, closing the distance to the still-stunned Clara.

The fairy was breathtaking – her skin a soft, ocean-washed blue, as if kissed by the waves themselves. Her black hair, braided intricately, tumbled down her back, woven through with delicate silver threads that caught the light with every subtle movement. Her eyes shone like golden treasures hidden beneath the sea’s depths. Graceful, wave-like patterns traced from her shoulders down to her arms, flowing seamlessly across her skin. Around her wrists, thin bracelets made of tiny seashells glimmered faintly. She wore a garment light as a seafoam, strands of seaweed woven through airy layers that draped gently over her form. In her hands, she held a long battle spear, glowing with a golden light – as if carved from pure sunlit gold.

Leaning forward, spear poised, she repeated her question, voice firm and unyielding:

“Who are you?”

“I…” Clara began, but the words caught in her throat, hesitation freezing her in place.

This new world seemed far more beautiful than the Garden of Lumirona, but its charm had all but vanished in the face of danger.

“If you don’t answer, I’ll kill you,” the fairy warned, her voice calm yet sharp as a blade. The spear’s tip glinted coldly in the soft light, close enough that Clara felt the brush of its power on her skin.

A tremor ran down her spine: her life hung by a thread. Panic threatened to seize her tongue, but she fought to steady herself. Rising unsteadily to her feet, she felt the stones crunch beneath her boots, every sound painfully loud.

“I’m Clara,” she began, brushing wet strands of hair from her face. “I’m from a village nearby, and – ”

“You’re sure you’re not one of the Banshees?” the fairy interrupted, her eyes narrowing.

“I – I don’t even know what that is!” Clara stammered, the fear thick in her chest. “I just need to find my father. I’ll leave as soon as I do, I swear!”

Around her, other fairies emerged – ethereal yet watchful. The beauty of the world blurred with the threat that loomed from every side, and Clara felt fear and awe twisting within her, every breath a fragile truce between life and death.

“Who are you?” Clara asked quietly.

“We are water fairies of Mirissia,” replied the fairy nearest to her, her golden eyes gleaming beneath delicate braids of black and silver.

“Water… fairies..?” Clara echoed in surprise. “I… I always imagined fairies differently…”

But the confused almost suspicious expressions that fitted across their faces made her heart skip a beat. Hastily, she added, her voice brightening with forced cheer:

“I mean – » she fumbled, “you’re far more beautiful than I ever thought fairies could be.” A nervous smile played on her lips.

Best not to anger them, she thought, hoping her compliment might ease the tension that crackled in the air.

The fairies began to close in around Clara, their graceful movements as fluid and silent as the sea.

“Come with us,” ordered the one who had first spoken, her golden eyes cold and unyielding.

Clara obeyed without hesitation, though every step felt like treading on thin ice. A chill emanated from these beings – unseen yet tangible, a cold that sank deep into her bones. She knew, with a certainty that turned her blood to ice, that they could destroy her with a single breath if she dared to resist.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, weak in the heavy silence that surrounded them.

In response, the lead fairy cast her a cold stare that cut deeper than any blade.

These fairies are scarier that Travis’s guards, Clara thought, tension tighter and tighter inside her.

When they reached the white temple, Clara’s focus was drawn – almost against her will – to the walls, where grotesque grimaces of fear were carved into the stone. Shadows danced among the twisted faces, and for a moment, she felt as though the very air in the temple breathed dread.

Grim

“Stand here,” ordered one of the fairies, her voice sharp and cold. She pointed to the center of the hall, and Clara moved to obey, planting herself in the center of the vast black circle etched into the floor, every step echoing ominously in the silence.

A sudden flash memory surged – a similar circle, like the one the Garden had conjured. A cold fear gripped her chest. What if this was another trap? What if she was dragged underwater again or thrown into an even darker, more terrifying realm?

Fairies were unpredictable, and Clara wasn’t prepared for any more surprises.

“Wait!” the brunette called out, eyes locked on the fairies as they began closing the circle around her. “I’m not here to hurt anyone. Please – I just need to get out of here and find my father. I swear, I’ll leave after that. You won’t have to see me again.”

The silence was broken by a sharp voice.

“And why should we believe a word you say?”

Clara’s breath caught in her throat as she stepped back – only to bump into something she couldn’t see. Panic flared, the fairies stared at her, their eyes unfeeling.

“I… I don’t know how to prove it,” she said, voice trembling. “I swear, I don’t want anything from you. Please…” She struggled to find the right words. “I just want to find my father. I didn’t mean to come here.”

“There are no accidents,” one of the fairies said, her voice low and mocking.

“W – wait!”

Before Clara could react, the fairies slammed their arrows to the ground. A low hum filled the air, and darkness blurred the edges of her vision until she felt herself falling – like sinking into an icy sea.

***

“She’s been sleeping for quite some time. You didn’t kill her, did you?”

“No, Commander.”

The water fairy watched as her Commander studied Clara with a cold, unwavering stare. The brunette lay on the damp dungeon floor, her body tense, struggling to piece her sense together.

“You may go,” the Fairy Commander said, just as Clara’s eyelids fluttered open.

The water fairy bowed and departed in silence, leaving the two of them alone.

“Who are you?” Clara asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Everything around her seemed to sway and blur.

Her body was too weak to lift her head, the hunger and exhaustion making her limbs heavy and her mind slow.

“You may call me Tora,” the stranger replied calmly.

She stood completely still, her long black hair cascading her shoulders. Behind her, silvery, half-transparent wings shimmered faintly. Her eyes – black as a moonless night, so different from the amber of fairies – watched the brunette without blinking.

Clara squeezed her eyes shut, shivering on the cold, damp floor. The air hung with moisture, wrapping her in a clammy chill. Yet somewhere beneath that cold, a curious warmth spread through her, as if she were submerged underwater, still somehow able to breath.

Everything felt unreal, but Clara’s exhaustion dulled her and scattered her thoughts.

“Where am I?” she whispered, voice shaking.

“You’re in the underwater prison, Clara,” Tora said, a faint smile playing on her lips. “You should eat something first. You won’t find your father on an empty stomach.”

Dizziness spun in Clara’s head, but she pushed herself up.

“How do you know?”

“In the underwater prison, everything about you is known,” Tora replied softly.

“And even that time you hit a boy when you were a kid,” a sudden voice echoed.

Clara’s eyes darted around, panic rising – there was no one else in sight. Only Tora stood across the bars, watching her quietly.

“Who said that?” she asked, her voice unsteady, eyes locked on the fairy. “How do you know?”

“The souls of the other dead prisoners,” Tora replied calmly. “They see everything.”

“What?”

“Just by being here, they see through you. Every memory, even the ones you thought were lost. They remember things you’ve tried to forget. There’s no point in hiding anything.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” Clara brows furrowed.

“Here, eat this,” Tora said, sliding a strip of seaweed through the small gap in the bars.

“You’re trying to poison me, aren’t you?” Clara stepped back, suspicion tightening her voice.

Tora tilted her head slightly, studying her with that same unreadable expression, as though Clara were an unusual insect rather than a person.

“If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be standing here talking.”

Clara froze. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Yes,” Tora said simply, extending the seaweed again.

Clara frowned, shifting her gaze from the fairy to the strange, dark green mass in her hands.

“I don’t eat…” She made a face. “…wet grass.”

“It’s not grass.”

“Oh, great, that makes me feel so much better.”

Tora blinked, clearly missing the sarcasm.

“These seaweeds will keep you nourished even without human food.”