The woman gestured toward the cabin's dim interior. "Come inside. There's much you need to know."
Maya stepped over the threshold, the warmth of the fire barely pushing back the chill that clung to her bones. The girl stayed close, eyes darting nervously around the small room filled with old photographs and worn books.
The woman motioned toward a faded portrait hanging on the wall—a younger version of herself, standing beside Maya's mother.
"They were friends," the woman said quietly. "Long ago, your mother and I tried to stop what was happening here."
Maya frowned. "Stop what?"
The woman sighed. "Deurali is cursed. Not just the forest or the town—its very soul. Years ago, a tragedy struck. A girl much like the one you found was taken by the woods. Your mother—she gave everything trying to save her."
Maya's throat tightened. "But why didn't she tell me?"
"Because some wounds are too deep," the woman said. "Your mother made a promise to protect you—and to bury the pain. But the curse didn't end. It waits, hungry, and now it's drawn you back."
She knelt, looking Maya in the eyes. "The watcher you saw… she's not just a ghost. She's the spirit of that lost girl. Bound to these woods, forever seeking release."
Maya's heart pounded. "And the girl I found?"
The woman's gaze darkened. "She's the key. If you help her, if you break the curse, the watcher can finally rest. But the woods won't give her up easily."
Outside, the wind howled, carrying a mournful cry that sent a shiver down Maya's spine.
The woman's voice dropped to a whisper. "You're not just here by chance. You're part of this now. The dream your mother never fulfilled—it's yours to finish."
Maya swallowed hard, the weight of the woman's words pressing down on her like the heavy fog outside.
"I don't even know where to start," Maya admitted, voice barely above a whisper.
The woman rose slowly, moving toward a dusty bookshelf. She pulled out an old leather-bound journal, its cover cracked with age.
"This was your mother's," she said, handing it to Maya. "She wrote everything—her fears, her discoveries, her hopes. It's all here."
Maya's fingers trembled as she opened the journal. The pages were filled with neat, careful handwriting—notes on strange sightings, legends of the woods, and a desperate plea to break the cycle.
A particular entry caught her eye:
"The watcher is both a curse and a guardian. She holds the pain of all lost souls, and only one connected by blood can set them free."
"Connected by blood…" Maya echoed.
The woman nodded. "You. That's why the woods called you back. And why you saw her—the watcher."
Maya glanced down at the trembling girl in her arms.
"She's the reason you're here. To save her, you'll have to face what your mother couldn't. You'll have to go deeper into the woods, confront the darkness, and unearth the truth buried beneath the roots of Deurali."
A cold wind rattled the cabin windows, as if the forest itself was listening.
Maya's heart raced, but beneath the fear, a spark of resolve ignited.
"I will," she said firmly. "For her. For Mom. For Deurali."
The woman gave a small, sad smile.
"Good. Because time is running out."
Outside, the watcher's silhouette appeared again at the edge of the clearing—silent, waiting.
Maya took a steadying breath and stepped toward the door, the girl clinging tightly to her.
The forest awaited.
Maya stepped out of the cabin, the girl still clutching her tightly. The mist had thickened again, swallowing the path behind them. The watcher's shadow lingered at the tree line, unmoving.
"Stay close," Maya whispered, more to herself than to the child.
With every step deeper into the forest, the air grew heavier—thick with memories and something older, something restless. The trees seemed to lean in, their branches like twisted fingers.
Then, a faint glow flickered between the trunks ahead—an old lantern, swinging gently as if moved by a breath of wind that didn't exist.
Maya followed the light until she came to a small clearing. There, half-buried beneath moss and fallen leaves, lay a carved stone.
She knelt down, brushing the dirt away to reveal an inscription in a language she didn't recognize—ancient and worn.
Her fingers traced the symbols, a strange warmth spreading through her palm.
Suddenly, the watcher's voice echoed softly in her mind—a mixture of warning and pleading.
"Remember…"
Maya's eyes snapped open. She wasn't alone.
From the shadows stepped a figure—older, ragged, but with eyes sharp and filled with knowledge.
"I've been waiting for you," the figure said.
Maya straightened, heart pounding. "Who are you?"
The figure smiled faintly. "A guardian… like your mother once was. But the curse has a price."
"And what price is that?" Maya asked, clutching the girl closer.
"Sacrifice," the guardian said. "To break the curse, someone must stay behind. Bound to the forest forever."
Maya's breath caught. "No. It can't be me."
The guardian's gaze softened. "You have a choice. But the watcher will not rest until the debt is paid."
The wind whispered again, carrying the watcher's voice—
"Remember."
Maya's resolve hardened. For the lost girl, for her mother's memory, for Deurali—she would face whatever came next.