Interstice: The Curious, The Cautious, The Hollow (5)

 THE DARK
As they continued deeper into the forest, Eden’s wings fluttered close to her, drawing inward with every unfamiliar sound. Her light flickered faintly, responding to the strange silence that surrounded them—a silence too complete, as though the forest itself were listening.

The darkness thickened with every step. Trees crowded closer, their branches weaving together overhead until little remained of the sky. What light still existed slipped through narrow gaps between leaves, thin and fragile, vanishing before it could settle.

“Why are we going into the dark?” Eden asked, her voice quieter than before.
Hades did not slow. “Because some paths require it,” he replied. “Passing through darkness is sometimes the only way to see what waits beyond it.”

They continued along The Path.

Soon, even the faint traces of light disappeared. The forest became pitch-black, the air heavy and close. Eden’s steps faltered. Her wings folded tighter against her, feathers trembling as instinct took over.

Hades noticed.
He did not turn. He did not speak. But his pace eased—only slightly, almost imperceptibly—enough for her to close the distance between them.

Eden caught up, staying nearer now. The tension in her wings loosened little by little. Her light steadied, no longer flickering, faint but present—as if adjusting rather than resisting.

“There is nothing to fear in the dark,” Hades said without looking back. “It appears threatening because it is unknown. Once you pass through it, you will find it was never what you imagined.”

Eden watched his back as he led the way. “I was afraid,” she said. “But it became less so… when I realized someone was walking ahead of me, even in this darkness.”
Hades offered no reply.

They continued in silence.
After some time, the darkness began to thin. Slender rays of light slipped between leaves and branches, threading softly through the shadows. The forest loosened its hold, the air growing lighter with each step. They emerged from the trees and stepped into the light.

Hades stopped.
Eden did the same.
He turned to her then—for the first time since she had followed him—and said, “You see the light now. It feels different, doesn’t it? Not because it changed—but because you reached it after the dark.”

Eden looked around, then back at him. “It does,” she said. “It feels good… stepping into light after darkness.”
She smiled, a quiet return of the cheer she carried before.

“Come,” Hades said, turning away once more. “Let us go.”
Her smile faltered slightly. “Where?”
“Not into darkness,” he answered. “Only to a place I need to be.”
Eden hesitated for a moment—then nodded. “Then let’s go.”
And she followed him.