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Chapter 3: The Heart of Silverwood

The next morning, Alex set out early, determined not to let his grandfather’s warning stop him. He had told his best friend Clara to meet him by the edge of the forest. Clara was the adventurous type, always up for exploring the places other kids avoided. She had no idea about the book or the strange conversation with Alex’s grandfather—just that they were going on an adventure.

Silverwood loomed in front of them, an eerie silence hanging in the air. The forest was dense, the trees towering overhead, their branches twisting like skeletal arms. The sunlight barely pierced the thick canopy, casting long shadows across the forest floor.

“This place is kind of creepy,” Clara admitted, adjusting her backpack as they stepped into the forest. “But also kind of cool.”

Alex nodded, though his mind was elsewhere, focused on the map from the book. They followed the old path outlined in the pages, moving deeper into the forest. As they walked, the air grew colder, and the sounds of the town behind them faded into nothingness. It was as if the forest had swallowed the world whole, leaving only the two of them.

The deeper they went, the more Alex noticed strange things. The trees seemed older here, their bark gnarled and twisted, and there were odd markings on the trunks—symbols like the ones in the book. It was as if someone—or something—had been here before, leaving behind a trail for those who dared to follow.

“We’re close,” Alex whispered, his eyes scanning the trees ahead. The map had led them to a clearing, but something about the place felt wrong. The trees encircled the area like silent sentinels, their branches forming a canopy that blotted out the sky.

Suddenly, Clara stopped. “Do you feel that?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Alex did feel it. The air around them was thick with tension, as if the forest itself was holding its breath. There was an unsettling stillness, and Alex’s gut twisted with unease. Something was watching them.

“We should go,” Clara said, her eyes darting around the clearing. But Alex couldn’t leave. Not yet.

His eyes were drawn to the center of the clearing where a stone slab lay half-buried in the earth. On it, the same spiraling eye symbol from the book. Whatever secrets Silverwood held were buried beneath that stone, and Alex was determined to uncover them.

But as he stepped forward, the ground beneath him shifted, and the air grew colder still. In the silence, a low whisper rose from the trees—a sound like distant voices carried on the wind.

Alex froze, his heart pounding in his chest. Whatever was in Silverwood wasn’t just a legend. It was real, and it was waking up.

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