Whispers of the Forgotten Forest (Sample)

Chapter 1: The Mysterious Whisper

Lira crouched low, her breath steady, her eyes trained on the deer grazing at the edge of the meadow. The animal was unaware of her presence, its delicate legs stepping cautiously through the grass, head dipping to graze. Lira's bowstring was pulled out, the arrow poised between her fingers. She felt the familiar surge of focus, a quiet determination to make the perfect shot.

But just as she was about to release the arrow, something shifted in the wind.

A faint sound, like a murmur, reached her ears. It was soft at first, almost indistinguishable from the rustling of leaves. She hesitated, her arrow trembling slightly. The deer lifted its head, sensing something too, its ears twitching, alert.

Lira let out a slow breath and adjusted her aim. Her fingers loosened on the string, and the arrow flew, swift and true. The deer darted forward, but not fast enough. The arrow struck, and the animal staggered before collapsing in the grass.

It was a clean kill. Lira should have felt the satisfaction that usually accompanied a successful hunt, but instead, she found herself distracted by the sound she'd heard. The whisper.

She stood, her dark leather boots sinking slightly into the soft earth as she approached the fallen deer. The whisper had been so strange, like a voice calling from far away, barely audible but undeniably there. It hadn't been the wind, not exactly. It had felt... intentional.

Lira glanced toward the distant line of trees at the edge of the meadow, where the forest loomed, dark and dense. The Forgotten Forest. Its towering trees stretched toward the sky like sentinels, their branches twisted and ancient, draped with moss. No one from the village ever ventured near it. The elders had made sure of that, warning of the dangers that lay within—of the curse that had plagued the forest for generations.

But the whisper... it had come from that direction. She was sure of it.

She shivered despite the warmth of the late afternoon sun, her gaze lingering on the forest's shadowed border. It stood as a wall of mystery, so close and yet worlds away from the village. For as long as she could remember, the stories of the Forgotten Forest had been woven into the fabric of her life. Elders spoke of it in hushed tones, warning the children to stay away, while the adults shared rumors of those who had wandered too close and never returned. Lira herself had never been tempted to test the boundaries of the forest. Not until now.

The whisper had unsettled her, but it also stirred something deep within, something she couldn't quite place. A strange pull, as though the forest itself was calling to her, beckoning her to step beyond the safety of the meadow and into the unknown.

She shook her head, forcing herself to focus. There was work to be done. The deer would need to be dressed and brought back to the village before sunset. Her family depended on her hunts for their livelihood, and she couldn't afford to be distracted by strange sounds or superstitious thoughts.

Kneeling beside the fallen deer, Lira pulled a knife from her belt and began the familiar task of skinning the animal. Her hands worked swiftly, but her mind remained elsewhere, drawn back to the whisper in the wind, to the forest that loomed ever closer in her thoughts. The pull was growing stronger.

By the time she finished, the sun had dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the meadow. Lira slung the deer's carcass over her shoulders and began the trek back to the village. The weight was heavy, but she was used to it. Hunting had been her life since she was a child, and she had learned to rely on her strength and skill in the wild. The village of Elderglen, where she had grown up, was small, nestled in the valley between rolling hills and the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Most of the villagers were farmers, toiling in the fields, but Lira had always preferred the solitude of the hunt.

As she walked, the whisper came again, faint but insistent. This time, it was clearer—almost like a voice, calling her name. Her heart skipped a beat, and she stopped in her tracks, listening.

"Lira..."

The voice was soft, barely more than a breath, but it was unmistakable. Someone, or something, was calling to her. She turned her head slowly toward the forest. The trees stood silent, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. But the pull was undeniable now, a tug at her very core, urging her forward.

Lira swallowed hard. She'd heard the stories all her life, and she knew better than to trust the whispers of the forest. The elders said it was cursed, a place where dark magic had once thrived and where no living thing could survive for long. But standing here, hearing the whisper again, she felt something she hadn't expected. Curiosity.

It was dangerous, she knew that. But the pull was stronger than fear.

She shook her head, trying to dispel the thoughts. She couldn't afford to entertain such reckless ideas. The village depended on her, and her family needed the food she provided. She had responsibilities. Still, as she resumed her walk, her gaze lingered on the tree line, and the whisper seemed to follow her.

By the time she reached the outskirts of Elderglen, the sun had almost disappeared, leaving the sky painted in hues of purple and orange. The village was quiet, smoke rising from chimneys as families gathered for their evening meals. Lira made her way through the familiar streets, the weight of the deer pulling at her shoulders, but her mind was elsewhere, still fixated on the mysterious voice that had called her name.

She reached her home, a modest cottage with a thatched roof and a small garden out front. Her father, Jonathan, was sitting by the fire, sharpening a knife. He looked up as she entered, his weathered face breaking into a tired smile.

"Good hunt?" he asked, his voice rough from years of hard work.

Lira nodded, dropping the deer onto the wooden table with a thud. "A good one. Should last us a while."

Jonathan grunted in approval. "Good. Winter will be here soon enough. We'll need every bit we can get."

Lira nodded absently, her thoughts still lingering on the whisper. She knew she should tell her father about it, but something held her back. Jonathan was a practical man, grounded in reality, and he had no patience for tales of magic or superstition. He would likely dismiss her concerns, telling her it was just the wind playing tricks on her mind.

But Lira knew it was more than that.

After a brief dinner, Lira retreated to her small room at the back of the house. The walls were lined with simple shelves, where her hunting gear and a few treasured possessions were kept. A single window looked out toward the forest, and as she lay on her bed, she found herself staring at it, lost in thought.

The whisper had felt so real, so urgent. And the pull... it was still there, a quiet but persistent tug in the back of her mind. She tried to push it away, to focus on the steady routine of her life in the village, but the forest had already rooted itself in her thoughts. It was as though it had awakened something deep within her, something that had been sleeping for a long time.

She could feel it now, more clearly than ever—the forest was calling to her.

Sleep did not come easily that night. Lira tossed and turned, her dreams filled with strange visions of twisted trees and shadowed paths. In her dreams, she wandered through the Forgotten Forest, the whisper growing louder and louder until it filled her ears, drowning out everything else. She felt the weight of something ancient, something powerful, lurking just beyond her sight. It was as if the forest itself was alive, watching her, waiting for her.

When she finally awoke, the morning sun casting soft light through the window, the pull was stronger than ever. Lira sat up, rubbing her eyes, trying to shake the remnants of her dreams. But they clung to her, vivid and unsettling.

She knew what she had to do.

The whisper had called her. The forest had called her.

And she could not ignore it any longer.