But today, he had no choice. His younger sister’s favorite locket—the only thing they had left of their mother—had been snatched by a playful wind and carried deep into the shadows of the "Forst," as the elders called it in their old tongue.
"Take it," the voice sighed, a gentle breeze ruffling Elias’s hair. "But remember: the Forst keeps what is forgotten. Do not forget her." the forst
The branches shifted, revealing a pair of golden eyes deep within the hollow of the trunk. There was no malice in them, only a vast, ancient curiosity. The forest, it seemed, wasn't a place of monsters, but a guardian of memories. But today, he had no choice