Mira had heard the whispers all her life. They called to her, soft and melodic, weaving tales of hidden treasures and forgotten worlds. On the eve of her eighteenth birthday, she decided she could ignore them no longer. With a lantern in hand and courage she wasn’t sure she truly possessed, she stepped into the forest.

The air was different inside—cool, heavy, and alive. The trees seemed to lean toward her, their branches stretching like arms reaching for a lost friend. As she ventured deeper, the whispers grew louder, forming words that only she could hear.