Whispers of the Turning Seasons (part 30)

The chamber beneath the river pulsed with a slow, rhythmic glow—almost like a heartbeat. Evelyn felt it beneath her boots, through the icy stone floor, through the air itself. The symbols carved on the walls shifted, never staying still long enough for her to fully grasp their meaning. They moved like constellations rearranging themselves.

Dr. Hale stood at the center of the chamber, the ancient book still open in his hands, its pages fluttering despite the still air. “The river chose this place for a reason,” he said. “Your mother understood that. She tried to protect you from it. But she couldn’t erase what you are.”

Liam stepped between Evelyn and Hale as if shielding her. “Enough of your riddles. Let the captive go—now.”

Hale didn’t look at Liam. His eyes were locked entirely on Evelyn. “You still don’t understand, child. He isn’t my prisoner.” He pointed behind him toward the bound figure on the stone pedestal. “He’s here because of you.”

The captive—covered in dirt, snowmelt, and dried blood—slowly lifted his head. His face came into the light.

Evelyn felt the chamber tilt.
Her breath shattered in her chest.

“No…” she whispered.

The man’s eyes were unmistakable.
The same shade of winter-green as hers.
The same shape.
The same intensity.

“Dad?” she breathed.

The man winced, almost as if the word burned him.

Hale smiled softly. “There it is.”

Evelyn stumbled backward. Her father—who had vanished when she was eight, presumed dead after a hiking accident—was here, bound, bruised, and surrounded by symbols meant for rituals centuries old.

Her voice cracked. “You’re alive… all this time—why didn’t you come back?”

Her father spoke at last, voice hoarse. “Because I couldn’t. Your mother made me leave… for your safety.”

The glow in the chamber intensified, vibrating through the floor.

Hale closed the book with a heavy, echoing thud. “It’s time she hears everything.”

Liam pulled Evelyn closer. “Evelyn, don’t listen to him. He’s been manipulating this from the start.”

Her father shook his head weakly. “No… Liam is wrong. Hale didn’t bring me here to harm you. He brought me because the chamber needs an heir. And only someone of our bloodline can survive the awakening.”

Evelyn’s pulse hammered in her ears. “What awakening?”

A deep rumble shook the chamber. Dust drifted from the ceiling. The river above them roared as though responding to something ancient awakening underneath it.

Her father’s eyes locked onto hers—urgent, desperate.
“The chamber is coming alive, Evelyn. It’s been waiting for decades. Your mother held it off as long as she could. But now… it has to choose.”

Hale stepped forward, eyes burning with knowledge—dangerous, unwavering faith.
“You were born for this. The symbols resonated with you the moment you entered the forest. The storm followed you because you are the catalyst. Your bloodline was always tied to this place.”

“No,” Evelyn whispered. “I don’t want any of this.”

The glow in the symbols flared—responding to her fear.

Her father shouted, “You don’t get to choose, Evelyn! The chamber chooses!”

A blast of light erupted from the symbols—spiraling upward, swirling around Evelyn like a vortex.

Liam lunged, trying to reach her, but the light threw him backward into the stone wall.

The chamber roared.
The symbols spun like galaxies.
The river above them churned violently.

Evelyn screamed as the light wrapped around her hands, her arms, her chest—warm, ancient, sentient.

Dr. Hale stepped back, awe in his face.
“It’s happening.”

The chamber carved its will into reality.

Evelyn Harper
was finally awakening.