The Forgotten Lake
May 11, 2025
The forest was quiet as Mira pushed through the dense underbrush, her breath shallow and quick. She had been walking for hours, following the winding path that was more suggestion than trail, its edges fading into the wild. The towering trees above her seemed to whisper in the wind, but there was no one else around. The world was still.
Her companions had fallen behind some time ago, disheartened by the thick fog that clung to the ground like a living thing, and the oppressive silence that had begun to set in. But Mira was different. She felt the call—the pull toward the lake that had been whispered about in legend. It wasn’t a place of peace, but one of power. And Mira was determined to find it.
The Forgotten Lake, they called it. An ancient body of water hidden deep in the heart of the forest, where the boundary between the living and the dead was thin. Many had tried to find it, but none had returned. Some said it was cursed; others claimed it was a portal, a bridge to another world.
Mira didn’t care about the legends. She cared about the truth.
After another hour of stumbling through the wilderness, she caught sight of it—a clearing ahead, bathed in a strange, silvery light. Her heart leapt in her chest. She had found it.
The lake was unlike anything Mira had ever seen. The water shimmered, reflecting the moonlight despite the fact that the sun had long since set. There was no sound—no ripples, no birds, no insects. Just an eerie stillness that made the air feel thick, as if it were holding its breath.
She stepped closer to the edge, her boots sinking into the soft earth. The surface of the water was smooth, like glass, but there was something hidden beneath. Shadows moved beneath the surface, just out of reach, like ghosts trapped within the depths. Mira’s fingers brushed against the cool surface, and for a moment, she thought she felt something respond—a soft, pulse-like thrum, deep and unsettling.
“What is this place?” she whispered to herself.
Before she could pull her hand away, a voice came from behind her.
“Be careful, Mira.”
Mira spun around, startled, her hand instinctively reaching for the dagger at her belt. Standing a few feet away was Thorne, his features obscured by the hood of his cloak. His eyes were dark, filled with warning, but his expression was unreadable.
“How did you find me?” Mira asked, lowering her hand but not fully trusting him. “You should’ve stayed with the others.”
Thorne gave a soft chuckle, his voice like gravel. “You were never meant to find this place alone.”
Mira frowned. “What do you mean?”
Thorne stepped closer to her, his gaze never leaving the water. “The Forgotten Lake is not just a place—it is a reflection of the soul. The spirits that dwell here are not kind. They know when someone seeks them, and they are never far behind.”
Mira glanced at the still water, uneasy. “Spirits? You’re telling me this is a place of the dead?”
Thorne nodded slowly. “Not just the dead. The lost. The broken. The forgotten. People come here hoping for answers, or for something more, but the lake only takes what it desires.”
Mira looked back at the lake, determination burning in her chest. She couldn’t turn back now. “I didn’t come here for answers,” she said firmly. “I came to find something. Something that belongs to me.”
Thorne didn’t respond immediately. He only watched her, his eyes narrowing in understanding. “You seek the Heart of the Lake,” he said at last.
Mira’s breath caught in her throat. “How do you know that?”
“It is why you came, isn’t it?” Thorne’s voice was almost gentle now. “The Heart of the Lake is a powerful artifact, but it’s also a curse. It doesn’t give—it takes. Those who seek it often lose everything.”
Mira stepped back, her pulse quickening. “I don’t care. I need it. I need to save them.”
For a moment, there was a flicker of emotion in Thorne’s eyes—something like pity. But he said nothing. He only watched as Mira took a step closer to the water.
The air around the lake seemed to shimmer, and the fog thickened, swirling around her ankles like a living thing. The water began to ripple, slowly at first, then faster, until the surface churned violently. A low, rumbling growl rose from beneath the water, and Mira felt a strange pull in her chest—an ache that made her heart race.
She knew it was the Heart of the Lake. It was calling to her.
The shadows beneath the water began to shift, taking shape—figures, dark and indistinct, rising from the depths. They hovered just beneath the surface, their movements slow and deliberate, like specters waiting for something. For her.
Thorne’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Leave now, Mira. It’s not too late.”
But Mira couldn’t tear her gaze away. The figures beneath the water were now more defined, their faces twisted in agony, their eyes pleading. One by one, they reached toward her, their hands emerging from the depths.
“They want me,” Mira whispered, fear threading through her words. “They want me to join them.”
“No,” Thorne said, his voice urgent. “They want to pull you in. You don’t belong here. The Heart of the Lake belongs to the lost—those who have already given up. Don’t let it take you.”
But it was too late. The figures surged toward her, their hands closing around her ankles, pulling her closer to the water.
“No!” Mira shouted, struggling against their grip. She tried to pull away, but the pressure of the lake’s grasp was too strong, and the water began to rise around her, cold and suffocating.
Thorne stepped forward, his hands outstretched. “Mira, hold on! You have to fight it!”
Mira’s breath came in ragged gasps. The figures were pulling her under, and for a moment, she thought she could feel her consciousness slipping away—fading into the depths with the rest of the lost souls.
But then, a surge of defiance flared inside her. She wouldn’t let it take her. Not like this.
With one final, desperate scream, she broke free from their grasp and stumbled backward, her feet slipping on the wet earth. The figures beneath the water hissed in frustration, but they did not follow her.
Thorne caught her, steadying her with a firm hand. “You’re safe, for now,” he said softly. “But the Heart is not done with you.”
Mira’s heart raced as she stared into the dark, still water. “What does it want from me?”
Thorne’s voice was grim. “It wants your soul, Mira. And it will keep calling until it has it.”