ECHOES OF THE FORGOTTEN

CHAPTER 5: THE MYSTERIOUS ELDER

The morning sun barely pierced the thick clouds hanging over Hollow Grove as Lena, Sam, and Ivy gathered in the small clearing near the edge of the forest. The air was heavy with moisture, and a dense fog clung to the trees, giving the surroundings an eerie, dreamlike quality. Lena clutched the old journal Mr. Blackwood had given her; its leather cover worn smooth from years of handling. The events of the previous night still weighed heavily on her mind, but she knew they couldn't stop now. The path ahead was uncertain, but they had to follow it, no matter where it led.

Sam paced back and forth; his usual energy subdued by the tension in the air. "So, who is this guy we're supposed to meet?" he asked, glancing at Ivy.

Ivy leaned against a tree; her arms crossed over her chest. "He's an old friend of my grandfather's. I've only met him a couple of times, but from what I've heard, he knows a lot about the town's history—things most people have forgotten or choose to ignore."

"Do you think he'll help us?" Lena asked, her voice quiet.

Ivy shrugged. "I hope so. If anyone knows about The Echo and The Keeper, it's him. But we have to be careful. The town council doesn't like people digging into the past, especially when it comes to things like this."

Lena nodded, a sense of unease settling over her. The memory fragments from the orb still haunted her, and the more she thought about them, the more she felt like something was terribly wrong in Hollow Grove. She couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, even now.

After what felt like an eternity, Ivy straightened up and motioned for them to follow her. "Come on, he lives just a little further in."

They walked deeper into the forest, the fog growing thicker with each step. The trees loomed tall and ancient around them, their branches twisting together overhead like skeletal fingers. The only sound was the soft crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional rustle of wildlife in the underbrush.

Finally, they reached a small, secluded clearing where a tiny, weathered cabin stood nestled among the trees. Smoke curled lazily from the chimney, and the scent of burning wood mingled with the damp forest air. The cabin looked like it had been there for centuries, its wooden walls covered in moss and ivy, blending almost seamlessly with the surrounding foliage.

Ivy approached the door and knocked lightly. For a moment, there was no response, and Lena's heart began to race with nervous anticipation. Then, the door creaked open, revealing an elderly man with a long, white beard and deep-set eyes that seemed to hold the weight of many years. He wore a tattered brown robe, and his gnarled hands clutched a wooden cane that looked as ancient as he did.

"Ivy Monroe," the man said in a raspy voice, his gaze softening as he recognized her. "It's been a long time."

"Hello, Mr. Hawthorne," Ivy replied, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Thank you for agreeing to see us."

Mr. Hawthorne's eyes shifted to Lena and Sam; his expression unreadable. "These are your friends, I take it?"

"Yes," Ivy said, nodding. "This is Lena Rivers and Sam Carter. We need your help, Mr. Hawthorne. It's about the town... and The Echo."