Shadow of the forest

The journey was long and winding, the path through the dense forest never straightforward, always twisting in ways that made it impossible to tell which direction was truly the right one. The boy's legs ached from walking, but there was no time to rest. Kava, with his silver hair catching the dim light, moved ahead with purpose. Zeke, the lion, was at his side, eyes sharp and ever-watchful, his large paws silent on the forest floor.

The boy—still nameless to himself—followed them through the thick underbrush, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and anticipation. There had been no explanation yet, no real understanding of what was to come, but Kava's silence was as heavy as the forest itself. The River of Immortality, Kava had said, was a place of great power—a place that would show the boy the truth of his connection to the forest, to whatever lay ahead in his journey.

After hours of walking, they reached a clearing where the trees parted to reveal a wide, glistening river. The water shimmered in the soft light of dusk, its surface smooth and still, as though it had been untouched for centuries. The air here felt different, thicker somehow, as if the very atmosphere was charged with an ancient energy.

"This is it," Kava said, his voice a quiet murmur. "The River of Immortality."

The boy stepped forward, eyes wide as he took in the sight. The water was crystal clear, but there was something unnerving about it, something deep and ancient that whispered of untold secrets. He could almost hear the river itself speaking, calling him.

Zeke moved to the edge of the river, his amber eyes never leaving the boy. "The water holds power," he warned. "But it does not grant immortality. It will show you the truth of your soul, of your past, but the price is steep."

The boy looked at Kava for guidance, but the sage simply nodded toward the river. "You must immerse yourself in it. The river will reveal what you need to know. But you must be prepared. There is no turning back once you step in."

Taking a deep breath, the boy stepped toward the water. The coolness of it was inviting, but the weight of what was to come pressed on him like a heavy stone. His heart raced as he slowly lowered himself into the river, the water surrounding him in an almost comforting embrace.

He submerged his body, allowing the cool current to swirl around him, the river's quiet hum filling his ears. The world seemed to slow, the sound of the forest and the river blending into one continuous, soothing rhythm. For a moment, he felt at peace, his mind still for the first time since he had awoken in this strange world.

Then, as if from nowhere, a whisper reached his ears. The voice was soft at first, like the rustling of leaves in a gentle wind, but it grew clearer with each passing second. The voice was low, deep, and unmistakable.

"Arina…"

The name echoed through the water, through his very being, as if it had been carved into his soul long ago. The boy's heart stuttered, and his eyes snapped open. The world around him blurred, the water turning dark and swirling with strange symbols, each one like a vision of something far-off, something forgotten.

"Arina…" the voice repeated, louder now, more insistent, as if the forest itself was calling him by that name. It was his name, but he had never heard it before, not in this body, not in this life. And yet… it felt like it was always his.

The boy closed his eyes again, letting the voice wash over him, his body still, his mind a blur. It was as if the river was pulling him into its depths, showing him fragments of a life he couldn't remember—faces, places, battles, pain. The images were fleeting, too quick to grasp, but the feeling they left behind was undeniable.

Then, just as suddenly, the world grew quiet. The river's voice ceased. The boy felt the weight of the water lift, his body no longer sinking but floating, weightless in a sea of thoughts and memories. His eyes fluttered open.

The forest was gone. The river had vanished. Instead, he found himself lying on the riverbank, gasping for air, the soft earth cool beneath his back. He blinked, disoriented, the world around him steadying as his senses returned. The sky above was fading into twilight, the last rays of sunlight casting long shadows across the clearing.

Kava was standing by his side, his face unreadable as always. Zeke sat nearby, his tail flicking lazily, though there was a strange intensity in his gaze.

"What happened?" the boy asked, his voice hoarse.

Kava's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't answer right away. Instead, he looked at the boy for a long moment, as if weighing something unspoken in his mind.

"Did you hear it?" Zeke asked, his voice low and rough.

The boy nodded, still trying to grasp the reality of what he had experienced. "I heard the name… 'Arina.'"

"Arina," Kava repeated softly, almost to himself. "That is the name you were given in your past life. You were once a part of this forest, a part of something greater than you can imagine."

The boy's mind raced, struggling to comprehend the magnitude of Kava's words. "But… I don't remember any of that. Who was I?"

Kava's expression remained unreadable. "The river has shown you the truth, but you are not ready to understand it fully. The past is a heavy burden, Arina. And the forest will not let you forget. It is a part of you now, as you are a part of it."

The boy's heart pounded in his chest as the weight of the name settled over him. Arina. It felt right, but also foreign. Who had he been? And why had the forest chosen him? These questions swirled in his mind, unanswered, as the evening air grew colder around them.

The river, still flowing silently behind them, held its secrets close, just as the forest had. The boy knew one thing for certain now—his journey had only just begun.

And the truth, like the river, would slowly rise to the surface.