Mysteries In obscurity
The glow of the morning sun got through the cloudiness of rest, yet Selene's body felt heavier than expected, similar to a stone sinking underneath the heaviness of something concealed. Her brain replayed the occasions from the prior night — dim shadows, gleaming eyes, the murmur calling out to her. She shocked upstanding, her heart dashing as she attempted to consistent her relaxing.
It was only a fantasy, she told herself. It must be.
In any case, as her eyes arrived on the soil streaked garments she had thrown on the floor, reality came crashing back. The timberland, the special raised area, the unusual figure — it was all genuine. A shudder ran down her spine, and she folded her arms over herself, attempting to shake the waiting disquiet.
"Selene?" Her dad's voice called from ground floor, sharp and anxious. "Get up. I want your assistance."
She looked at the little mirror by her bedside, her appearance pale and drawn, silver eyes gazing back at her. She flickered in shock, her breath getting as the unnatural light blurred from her look, getting back to their standard delicate dim.
What's befalling me?
Pulling herself from bed, she sprinkled water all over, attempting to clear her head. She was unable to allow her dad to see her like this — he previously floated excessively, continuously watching her with the stressed force that came from losing her mom. Assuming he thought anything uncommon, he'd at no point ever given her far away from him access the future.
Selene dressed rapidly, compelling herself to move like everything was ordinary, as though her reality hadn't moved for the time being. When she ventured into the kitchen, her dad was pacing, his temple wrinkled with concern.
"Where were you the previous evening?" he requested, his voice abrupt. His eyes scanned her face for replies, like he previously thought something.
"I — " Selene wavered, the memory of the figure in the forest glimmering to her. She was unable to come clean with him. He'd lock her away assuming he realized how close she'd come to the taboo backwoods. "I was unable to rest, so I took a stroll close to the stream."
Her dad's eyes limited, his lips squeezed into a meager line. "You know not to meander around evening time, particularly with the full moon. There's an explanation we have curfews, Selene. The forest aren't protected."
"I avoided the woods," she lied, her voice consistent regardless of the beating in her chest. "I guarantee."
He didn't look persuaded, yet he let it drop, dismissing with a snort. "There's work to be finished. The horse shelter needs fixing before winter, and I really want your assistance with the domesticated animals."
Selene gestured, thankful for the interruption. She followed him outside, letting the daily schedule of homestead life pull her back from the edge of her viewpoints. Yet, as she worked, she was unable to shake the irritating sense that something — or somebody — was watching her. The hairs on the rear of her neck remained on end, and each shadow appeared to move with an unmistakable overflow of energy.
By early afternoon, Selene's nerves were frayed. She cleared sweat off of her temple and rested up against the wall, gazing out toward the far off line of trees. The backwoods appeared to be more obscure than expected, its profundities impervious and cold. Some place in that dimness, answers looked for her.
As though on prompt, the murmur returned.
"Selene… "
Her breath got. She hadn't envisioned it — there was no mixing up the voice. It was weak, very much like previously, yet it was there, pulling at her, asking her to return.
Her dad's voice slice through the spell, and Selene snapped back to the real world. "Get the apparatuses from the shed, will you?" he called, neglectful of the inward fight seething inside her.
Selene gestured rapidly, getting some distance from the trees, yet her psyche was at that point made up. She was unable to overlook the force any more. Something in the woodland believed that her should track down it, and on the off chance that she didn't, the secret would just develop further, the murmurs stronger.
Soon thereafter, when the sun had plunged beneath the skyline and her dad had resigned to his room, Selene unobtrusively got out the secondary passage, her heart beating with expectation. The night was cool, the air fresh as she cleared her path through the town roads, cautious to try not to be seen.
She moved rapidly toward the woodland, her means light and conscious. As time passes, the murmurs developed stronger, directing her along the way. As she entered the forest again, the feeling of commonality washed over her. It was like the trees perceived her, inviting her back.
Be that as it may, the further she wandered, the more the disquiet returned.
At the point when she arrived at the clearing from the night prior to, the stone special stepped area stood cold and quiet underneath the twilight. The figure was gone, yet the air actually hummed with the energy she had felt previously.
Selene moved toward the raised area circumspectly, her fingers brushing against the harsh surface. "I'm here," she murmured into the murkiness. "What is it that you expect from me?"
Briefly, there was just quiet.
Then, the voice replied.
"You are the remainder of the bloodline, Selene. The opportunity has arrived for you to stir."
Selene's heart hustled. "Stir?" she repeated, dread holding her chest. "Your meaning could be a little more obvious."
Before the voice could answer, a stir in the shrubs behind her sent her twirling around. Her eyes enlarged as a figure got out of the shadows, however this time, it wasn't the strange presence she had seen the prior night.
It was a lady, shrouded in dark, her eyes shining with an unnatural light.
"You shouldn't have returned," the lady murmured, her voice dribbling with malevolence. "Presently, there's no way but forward."
Before Selene could respond, the lady lifted her hand, and a flood of force shot through the air, ramming into Selene with a power that thumped the breath from her lungs. Torment emitted in her chest as she fell to the ground, wheezing for air.
The final thing she saw before haziness gulped her was the lady's chilly, victorious grin.