The town of Eldergrove had always been quiet, its streets lined with crooked houses and trees that seemed to lean in toward one another as if whispering secrets. No one knew exactly when the first curse was placed, but it was said that long ago, a group of travelers came through the woods seeking shelter from a storm. They were never seen again, and the forest became known as the Hollow Veil. Years passed, and the stories grew. Children would be warned not to wander too far into the woods after dark, for the wind carried voices that did not belong to any living soul. The elders spoke of an ancient pact made with something older than time itself, a being that demanded offerings in exchange for protection. But no one could say what the offering was, only that those who ignored the warnings often disappeared without a trace. One autumn evening, a young woman named Elara arrived in Eldergrove. She was a researcher, drawn by the legends of the cursed land. She had studied folklore for years, fascinated by the idea that some places held echoes of the past, even if they were just stories. She rented a small cottage at the edge of the village, where the trees grew so thick that the sunlight barely reached the ground. At first, everything seemed normal. The villagers were polite, though they kept their distance. They offered her food and advice, but never asked about her work. She spent her days walking through the woods, sketching the strange carvings she found on old stones and listening to the wind that moved through the trees like a distant lullaby. One night, she found a path she had never seen before. It was narrow, overgrown with ivy, and led deeper into the forest than she had ever gone. Curiosity pulled her forward, and she followed it until the trees thinned, revealing a clearing bathed in moonlight. In the center stood a stone altar, covered in moss and symbols that pulsed faintly as if alive. She knelt beside it, brushing away the dirt with trembling hands. The symbols were unlike anything she had ever seen—flowing, almost organic, as if they had grown rather than been carved. As she traced them, the air around her shifted. A cold breeze swept through the clearing, carrying with it a sound like a thousand whispers. She stood abruptly, heart pounding, and turned to leave. But the path was gone. In its place stood a towering figure, cloaked in shadows. Its face was obscured, but she felt its gaze upon her, heavy and knowing. She tried to run, but the ground beneath her feet seemed to resist, as if the earth itself was holding her back. The figure stepped forward, and in its hand was a small, black box. It opened the box, revealing a single, glowing ember. Then, it extended the box toward her. Elara hesitated, then reached out. The moment her fingers touched the ember, the world around her dissolved into darkness. When she awoke, she was back at her cottage, the morning sun filtering through the window. The events of the night felt distant, like a dream. But the ember was now resting in her palm, warm and pulsing with a soft light. Days passed, and the ember began to change. It grew smaller, flickering more frequently, as if it were consuming something within her. She noticed that the villagers no longer spoke to her, and the trees in the forest seemed to watch her more closely. She tried to leave the town, but every road led back to Eldergrove, as if the place itself refused to let her go. One night, she returned to the clearing. The altar was still there, but now it was surrounded by other figures, each holding their own ember. They did not speak, but she understood. They were bound to the same fate, their lives slowly fading as the embers burned. She looked down at the ember in her hand and realized the truth: the curse was not about taking, but about giving. Each person who entered the forest gave something of themselves, and in return, the forest kept them safe. But the cost was steep. As the ember dimmed, she felt a deep emptiness inside her, a hollow space where memories once lived. She had given part of herself, and now she wondered if she would ever find it again. The last thing she saw before the darkness took her was the figure from the clearing, watching her with a silent, knowing smile.