In The Forest

The brown-haired boy with emerald eyes moved away from the window as soon as the girl disappeared into the dense woods. His jaw clenched in frustration, his thoughts racing. Slowly, he turned and made his way back to the stark white room, the soles of his boots echoing softly against the wooden floor. Sitting in the white chair, he ran a hand through his tousled hair, his brows furrowing as he stared at the empty bed.

A few moments later, the old man and woman entered the room. The man carried his usual axe, a symbol of his rugged personality, while the woman balanced a basket filled with freshly folded linen. Their faces mirrored concern.

"Did you get her?" the old man asked, his deep voice breaking the silence.

The boy shook his head, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. "No," he muttered.

"She probably got scared," the old woman said, her tone softer as she placed a comforting hand on her husband’s shoulder.

The boy stood abruptly, pacing the room. He rubbed his temples, trying to make sense of it all.

"The real question isn’t why she ran," he said, his voice sharp with determination. "The real question is how." 

The couple exchanged puzzled glances. "How what?" the old man asked. 

"How did she even get in?" the boy said, his eyes narrowing. "Why did the door show itself to her? Why did the stairs to our home appear for her?"

The old woman tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. "She must be special," she offered gently. 

"Your grandmother’s right," the old man added, nodding. "Our generation was blessed with the abilities to create this secret kingdom for those in need. Maybe she was meant to find it." 

The boy stopped pacing and fixed them with a stern look. "The door doesn’t appear for just anyone. It only shows itself to those who are a part of our kingdom, or those destined to be. And yet... she’s neither." 

Without another word, he turned and walked briskly toward the library, the couple trailing behind. The library was dimly lit, its walls lined with towering shelves filled with ancient books and scrolls. A large wooden ladder stood propped against one of the shelves. The boy climbed it with practiced ease as the old man steadied it for him.

Reaching the top, he grabbed a thick, dusty black book bound with faded gold lettering: The Secrets of the Forest. He climbed down swiftly and carried it to the large oak table in the center of the room. Dust clouded the air as he dropped the book with a thud and opened it to a section marked The Gate Keepers.

The boy’s voice was quiet but steady as he read aloud:

“‘Long ago, over four hundred years ago, the Kingdom of the Forest was plagued by dark magic. The trees withered, the animals fled, and darkness blanketed the land like a shroud. This malevolence was the work of the Dark Witch, Kaŕen.’” 

The boy’s expression darkened as he continued. “‘Two humans, gifted by the power of love—King Cameron James and his beloved Queen Isabelle—discovered the gate to the forest. Blessed with the gifts of light magic, they cast the Dark Witch away, restoring balance to the forest.’”

He skimmed through the pages, flipping faster. "I don’t need the whole history. Where’s the part about the Gate Keepers?" he muttered.

Finally, his finger landed on a passage. “‘After generations passed, the role of the Gate Keepers fell to a new couple. Eighteen years ago—’” 

The boy paused. His eyes widened slightly. "That’s the year I was born," he said, glancing at the old couple. "We had Gate Keepers back then?"

The old man nodded gravely. "A lovely couple, yes. But their story is a tragic one." 

The boy read on: "'The Gate Keepers were attacked. A beautiful child was born to them, but their joy was short-lived. It was said the Dark Witch sent her men to kill the Gate Keepers and reclaim the kingdom. The child—rumored to be neither a Gate Keeper nor an ordinary human—was foretold to possess the unique gift of seeing what others cannot.'" 

His voice trailed off, and his hands trembled slightly as he closed the book. "It can’t be her," he whispered. His face hardened as realization set in. "She’s the daughter of Queen Kaŕen." 

The old couple exchanged alarmed looks.

"How do you know that?" the old man asked cautiously.

"I... I saw the tiara in her bag," the boy admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. His voice dropped, filled with both fear and urgency. "But before you say anything, we need a plan to bring her back. If she’s who I think she is, she’s in grave danger." 

"How can you be so sure?" the old woman asked, her voice trembling slightly. 

The boy’s jaw tightened. "Because the Dark Witch isn’t gone. And if she finds out her daughter is here, she’ll stop at nothing to reclaim her." 

A heavy silence filled the room. The old man gripped the handle of his axe tightly, while the old woman sank into a nearby chair, her face pale. 

"What do we do?" the old man finally asked. 

"We start by finding her before anyone else does," the boy said, his tone resolute. "And then... we protect her. No matter what." 

As he bent down to pick up the book, a faint breeze swept through the library, rustling the pages. His gaze lingered on the illustration of the Gate Keepers, two figures standing guard before a radiant door. For a moment, he wondered if fate had brought the girl to their kingdom—or if it was something far more dangerous. 

With renewed determination, he slammed the book shut and turned to the couple. "We have no time to waste. Let’s go."