The Heart of the Forest

In the heart of the forest, nestled between ancient trees and overgrown vines, stood a small, rotting building. Its timbers were warped and green with moss, and the roof sagged under the weight of years. The windows were covered in grime, barely allowing any light to penetrate the darkness within. The place exuded an aura of fear, as if it held secrets best left undisturbed.

A royal nursemaid, her face pale and drawn, approached the building with hesitant steps. She carried a bundle wrapped in a worn blanket—Krueger, the child found in the cave. The maid’s heart pounded as she pushed open the creaking door and stepped into the dim interior, her mission entrusted by the king himself.

Inside, the air was thick with the smell of herbs and old wood. A wise woman, her hair silver and her eyes sharp with knowledge, was hunched over a table cluttered with bottles and dried plants. She looked up as the maid entered, her gaze piercing and knowing.

“The monster brought the child here,” the wise woman murmured, her voice gravelly with age. She approached the maid, taking the bundle from her arms with surprising gentleness. “Every being comes to a place with a purpose, even this one.”

The nursemaid watched in silence as the wise woman began her work, sprinkling a circle of powdered herbs around the child and chanting in a language long forgotten. The child remained still, eyes wide and unblinking.

“Never let the people know about this child,” the wise woman warned, her eyes meeting the maid’s. “He is different, and difference breeds fear. Keep him hidden, protect him from their eyes.”

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Three years passed, and the kingdom’s old market buzzed with life and chatter. The market was a maze of stalls and shops, each overflowing with goods. The cobblestone streets were crowded with people, their voices blending into a constant hum of activity. Here, merchants hawked their wares, and townsfolk bartered for the best prices. The scent of fresh bread and ripe fruit mingled with the more pungent aromas of livestock and fish.

In a quiet corner, a group of townsfolk gathered, their conversation hushed but urgent. They spoke of the young prince, their faces shadowed with unease.

“Have you seen him?” one man asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Aye,” another replied, glancing around to ensure they weren’t overheard. “He’s not like any child I’ve ever seen. His eyes… they’re not human.”

“They say he came from the forest,” a woman added, her expression fearful. “Brought in by a maid who’s since vanished.”

“I heard he never cries,” another whispered, looking around nervously. “Not a sound, no matter what happens. It’s unnatural.”

“Unnatural is right,” said an older man with a weathered face. “I remember the stories my gran used to tell, about the creatures that live in the deepest parts of the forest. Things that look like us, but aren’t.”

A younger woman leaned in, her eyes wide with curiosity and fear. “Do you think he’s one of them? One of those forest creatures?”

The older man shook his head, his expression grim. “Could be. The queen’s been cursed, they say. Maybe this is part of it.”

The group fell silent, each lost in their thoughts. The market’s clamor seemed distant, their words cloaked in the weight of their secret.

A burly blacksmith broke the silence. “It’s not just his eyes. Have you seen the way he moves? It’s like he’s not entirely… solid. Like a shadow.”

“They say he’s never been sick a day in his life,” murmured a middle-aged woman, clutching her basket tighter. “And that he can see things others can’t. Things that aren’t there.”

An old woman, bent with age, shook her head slowly. “Mark my words, that child’s got the forest in him. There’s dark magic at work here.”

“The prince is a monster,” someone finally whispered, and the words hung in the air like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over their hearts.

"A monster"

End of Chapter 2.

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