We Were Right About Magic

The Silver Locket

The forest was heavy with the moisture left by a recent rain shower. The ground was soft and wet beneath Iris' feet - she could feel it squishing between her toes as she walked. She wished there was more moonlight through the canopy of treetops that made up the forest; without it she would have to walk slowly, feeling for tree roots and branches ahead of her in the darkness. A cool breeze blew past, sending a shiver down her spine. An owl hooted from somewhere deep in the woods, and another answered from behind her. She heard a low rumbling sound fading away, then coming closer again. Something heavy was stirring. Soon, the rumbling stopped, and all was silent once more. Iris held her breath in dreadful anticipation.

Against the black of the night, a shimmering figure rose. A ghostly apparition of a man, shrouded in deathly pale wisps of light. He rose slowly, his body shimmering with an eerie glow. His eyes were filled with pain and sorrow, and a burning hunger for justice. He surveyed the forest and the surrounding area, his face a mask of rage. He spotted Iris before she had a chance to hide. Her lungs were fire in her chest. His steps were heavy and deliberate as he strode toward her.

"I can smell your fear, girl." His voice rumbled through her body like distant thunder. "Why are you here?"

The scent of burning leaves stung her nostrils as she was forced to take in a breath. The man was towering above her, at least two heads taller. His hair was long, so long that the tips reached his knees. His muscles were bare for a moment, rippling as he moved. A dark cloak materialized, covering his body. Then a sheathed sword in a baldric. His eyes glowed with an unearthly light, and at the edges of his mouth was a thin line of white as if he was scowling.

Iris' fear was palpable. She trembled as if it were the dead of winter. She tried to find her voice, but only sharp shallow breaths arrived. His eyes roved her body, studying her every detail, before settling on her eyes once more.

"It's dangerous to be in the forest at night."

"I know," she squeaked. It was high pitched and pathetic. "I was on a hunt, lost track of time."

"Is the hunt worth your life?" he asked.

Iris gulped before answering. "Yes. My family is hungry."

The man cocked a brow. "Alas, you're empty-handed."

"I am unlucky," she whispered. "My name is Iris. What are you called?"

The man took a step back as if dazed. His face contorted, deep in thought. "I think I was called Gavril. I... I was unlucky, as well."

Iris sucked in as much air as she could, digging up whatever courage was left in her chest. "What happened to you?"

Just like that, Gavril's face brimmed with rage once more. "I was betrayed. Killed unjustly and cruelly. My murderers have escaped with impunity."

"You... were killed? So, you are from the realm of death. I thought as much. You're not the first spirit I've met in these woods. Do you know how long ago since you lived?"

His eyes flashed with fury as he threw back his head and roared, the sound echoing off the ancient trees around them. Summoning all the strength of his soul, he thrust his arms outwards and felt the energy surging through him like a tidal wave. The air around him shimmered with dark power as spirits of the dead answered his call, joining him in his vengeance, offering their power as his own.

"Show me where Lydia's Tower is," he demanded, teeth bared.

Iris' jaw set. There was no way she was going to tell the spirit that was actually where she was heading. She didn't want him to know where her family was. All she could do was agree. She would get him close enough and then try to lose him.