We continued walking in silence once more, the forest around us whispering like it knew every word we weren’t saying.
The further we walked, the quieter the forest became.
Even the birds had stopped singing.
The air felt heavy, thick like fog, but sharper somehow, pressing against the skin rather than brushing it. The ground underfoot was soft, each step sinking just a little deeper into the sand.
Eve slowed first. “Does anyone else—”
“—feel like they’re being watched?” Ashley finished.
Faelin glanced around.
“It’s not eyes,” she said softly. “It’s like the trees are… listening.”
Then the first whisper came.
Faint. Slithering. Impossible to tell if it was behind us or inside our minds.
“Why pretend you don’t want it, little sniper?”
Eve froze, her hand reaching for her dagger.
The voice was low, almost affectionate. “You keep it quiet, that spark. You could have him if you asked. He’d say no, but he wouldn’t mean it. You can see it in his eyes, the way he longs for someone else to take a step towards him.”
Her breath hitched.
“Shut up,” she muttered into the nothingness.
Ashley frowned. “Eve?”
But before Eve could answer, another whisper bloomed, softer, sweeter.
“Ashley,” it sighed. “You’d trade anything for your twin, wouldn’t you?”
Ashley’s eyes widened, and she swallowed hard, trying to push down her emotions.
“The way she smiled, the way she called your name. You dream of her every night. You could have her back, it’s just one step, one breath in the right direction…”
Ashley shook her head. “No. No, that’s—”
“You don’t need to live without her,” the voice coaxed, like a lullaby. “You could join her, be together again. You’d never have to feel guilty for living in her stead.”
Her hand trembled where it gripped her sleeve.
Then another voice, the same, yet not, rippled through the air, brushing across Faelin like a breath.
“But you,”it purred. “You don’t need anyone. Do you, little scholar? Clever thing. Already whole, already enough. The others fight and ache for what they lack. You? You’re complete… Except no one will miss you.”
Faelin’s jaw tightened and her walk faltered. “Stop it.”
“No one sees it yet. But I do. You could be so much more if you stopped pretending to be small. Everyone would be at your feet.”
The air grew colder and the mist thickened, twisting like smoke around our feet.
And then it spoke again, this time to me.
“Ahhh,” the voice sighed, deeper now, a vibration that crawled under my skin.“The half one’s favoritetoy.”
